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MoreWarhammer40,000storiesfromBlackLibrary
TheBeastArises1:IAMSLAUGHTER2:PREDATOR,PREY
3:THEEMPEROREXPECTS4:THELASTWALL5:THRONEWORLD
6:ECHOESOFTHELONGWAR7:THEHUNTFORVULKAN8:THEBEASTMUSTDIE9:WATCHERSINDEATH
10:THELASTSONOFDORN11:SHADOWOFULLANOR
12:THEBEHEADING
SpaceMarineBattles
WAROFTHEFANGASpaceMarineBattlesbook,containingthenovellaTheHuntfor
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CoverBacklistTitlePageWarhammer40,000TieronValerianAleyaTieronValerianAleyaTieronValerianAleyaTieronValerianAleyaTieronValerianAleyaTieronValerianAleyaValerianAleyaTieronValerianTieron
ValerianAleyaTieronValerianAleyaTieronAbouttheAuthorAnExtractfrom‘TheHorusianWars:Resurrection’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.
HugethankstoNickKyme,AaronDembski-BowdenandJohnFrenchfortheirinvaluablehelpinplanningthisstory.
TIERON
Ihaveconsideredit.Makinganendto itall.OfcourseIhave.I lookedto theskies.Isawgoodsoulssuccumbtoweakness,andfoulsoulsseizetheirmoment.Whatofit?Wealldoubt.
I have lived over two hundred standard years. Too long, I think now. I haveburied twowives, and seen seven children enter service and leaveme for thevoid,andstillIremainhere,old,stubborn,inirritatinglygoodhealthdespiteanatmosphereoftoxinsbothnaturalandpolitical.I am alone again now. Strange to say that, surrounded as I am by thequadrillionsof theThroneworld, andyet it is truernow than it has everbeen.The faces pass me by. I know all of them. I know their histories and theirallegiances. I see the plots they hatch and hear thewhispers theymake undergilded archways, and I grownumb to it all, for itmatters so little.Evennow,hardagainst theEndofTime,whenthedeathrattleofourspecieshasbecomeaudibleeventothethick-eared,theystillgraspforalittlemoreofthethingswehavealwaysdesired–coin,power,knowledge,gratification.We are yet animals, at heart. Nothing has changed that. Not even He couldchangeusreally,thoughIthinkHewantedtoonce.IliketobelievethatwemustbeadisappointmenttoHim.Ifwearenot,thenHisambitionsforusmusthavebeensoverypoor,andthatstrikesatallIbelieveandholddear.I amAlexei Lev Tieron, and I was a supremely powerful man. I was not awarrior,norwasIawitch,norwasIacommanderofgreatvessels.MypowercameonlyfromtheLexImperialis–acoldsource,butanancientone.Likeso
manywithinthebureaucracythatswathesus,Iwasprotectedbywordswrittenonparchment.Itgavememystationanddefinedit.Withoutthispieceofpaper,themeanesthive-gangercouldhaveendedmewithimpunity–shewouldhaverippedthejewelsfrommyfingersandtriedtosellthemforweapons,andnonewouldhavecometomyaid,forthisgalaxyonlyrecognisesstrength.Buttherearemanykindsofstrength.Ilearnedthisduringschola,whenIwasassicklyasIamnowhale,andthesmooth-limbedscionsofnoblehousessoughttocrushmyspiritwiththeirbrutishness.Imighthavediedinthathatefulplace,hadInotpossessedtheonetalentthathaspreservedmeeversince–theabilitytodeflecttheambitionofothers,tomakeitswerve,todirecthatredontoatargetotherthanmyself,toemergefromthelatticeofcompetingegosintactandwithnooneawareofwhatveilshavebeencastovertheirstupid,powerfuleyes.No, Iwas not awitch. I just understood the pull of glorywhile having littleattractiontoit.Isawaman,orawoman,andIknewwhattheydesired.Iknewwhattosaytothem,andIknewwheretodirectthem.Iftheywishedtodomeharm,Ifoundthempreymorealluring.Iftheywishedtohelpme,Iextractedasuitable price. Thus I weaved my path between the paths of others, evadingdeathwhileitdevouredmyrivals,untilIreachedthepinnacle,gazingbackonalifeofdissemblanceandbrokereddeals.Compromisewasmyway,andforthatIamdespised,butthatisasitshouldbe.TheEmperorhasmanyservants,andwecannotallbepower-armouredkillers,canwe?I hadmany titles. This Imperium adores titles. The governor of the lowliestbackwaterrockwillhaveahundrednames,eachmoreludicrousthanthelast.Asfor myself, only one really mattered: Cancellarius Senatorum Imperialis.Chancellorof the ImperialCouncil, inLowGothic.Shouldyoube inclined totracethattitlebacktoitsorigins,youwillfindthetruemeaningofthewords.Iwasadoorkeeper.Iwatchedpeoplecomeandgo.Imadenoteoftheirintent,Ihadsoftwordswiththeoneswhocarriedtheweapons.Iconsideredthosewhomightbebettersuitedtomoreexaltedpositions,andthosewhomightbebetterextinguished.Overtime,thatcapabilitygeneratedamixofterrorandattraction.ManywereafraidofwhatIcoulddotothem;othersspeculatedwildlyonwhatImight desire, so that they might buy me and make me their creature. I wasalwaysamusedbybothreactions,forIdidnotactfrommaliceandIcannotbebought. I was a cipher. Even now I wish for nothing other than that which Ialreadypossess,forIpossessaverygreatdeal.I served in that station for nearly eighty years. I saw the composition of theHighTwelvechangeover that spanasdeathand rivalry took its toll.Someof
those lords were vicious, many of them narcissists. Two were positivelypsychotic,andIremainconvincedthataslimmajoritywerealwaystechnicallyinsane.And yet – here’s the thing – theywere all quite superlative.You doubt this?Youwish to believe that themasters of the Imperium aremen andwomenofgrasping inadequacy, forever squabbling over their own ambitions? Believeaway.You’reafool.There are twelve of them. Twelve. Consider what that means. More humansoulsnowlivethanhaveeverlived.IntheabsenceoftheactiveguidanceofHewhositsontheThrone–mayHisnamebeblessed–itisthosetwelvealonewhohave guided our ravenously fecund species through ten thousand years ofsurvival,withinauniversethatmostassuredlydesirestochewonourcollectivesoulsandspitthegristleout.Many lessermortalsmight havewished, in their idlemoments, that they toocould have risen to the heights, and sat on a throne of gold and ordered theImperiumas it ought tohavebeenordered–but theydidnotdo it, and theseonesdid.They faceddown thedemandsof the Inquisition, thebelligerenceofChapterMasters, thecondescensionofmutantNovators and the injunctionsofsemi-feral assassins, and held their power intact. They orchestrated everyresponse to every xenos incursion and patiently calibrated the defences of theEndlessWar.Theywithstoodinsurrectionsandcivilstrife,zealotryandmadness.Everyoneof them is amasterormistressof themost strenuousand themostacutecapability,thoughtheyburnoutquickly–Ihaveseenit–forthecaresofhumanityareinfiniteandtheythemselvesaremostassuredlyfinite.Somockthemifyouwill,andtellyourselfthattheyhavefattenedthemselvesonthelabourofthemassesandthattheydwellingloriousignorancewhilethegalaxysmoulders to its inevitableending.That is idiocyandit is indulgence.Iservedthemforagoodmortalspan,judgingthemquietlyevenastheygavemetheirorders,andItellyouthatthoughtheyhadtheirmanyflaws,theywere,andhavealwaysbeen,thegreatestofus.Ineverthoughtitwouldend.IneverthoughtIwouldlivetoseethedawnofadaywhentheHighLordsdidnotgoverntheImperiumasthehighestarbitersofthe Emperor’sWill. In this, as in somuch else, I have lived to seemy error.Now, as I contemplate whatmust come next, I understand the true import ofwhatIwitnessed.ForthefirsttimesinceHedrewmortalbreath,theynolongerrule.ForthefirsttimesincetheEmperorwasplacedontheHolyGoldenThrone,theHighLords
nolongergoverntheImperiumthatpreservesHismemory.Thisishowithappened.
Irememberthedate.Irememberthetime,andremembertheangleofthedyingsunthroughmybanquetingchamber’swindows.Youneednotbedetainedwiththe figures, forall thathaschanged. In time, I suspectwewillmeasure thingsfromadifferentfulcrum,fortheycannotremainastheywere.What is important? Idonotknowanymore.Mybellywas full, as itwas sooftenthen.Iwasdiningwellfromatablesetwithsilverplatters.Allof itwasreal–fruitsconveyedfromthefarthestreachesoftheSegmentumincryo-tanks.IfeltthetightberriesburstinmymouthasIchewed.Oneofthosealonewouldhaveboughtahivespireonalesserworld,butwewereonTerra,atthetopofthepyramid,andbarelygaveitathought.Perhapsthatoffendsyou.Perhapsyouthinkthatwewereinsensitivetoindulgeourselvesatatimewhensomanywantedforthebasicnecessitiesoflife.Icarenothingforyourjudgement.Icarenotforpietyofanykind,andIdonotregretthewaywewerethen.Weweresophisticatesswimminginaninfinityofresources, and we laboured for our luxuries. Above all, do not mistakeindulgenceforcorruption–theirelisionisfrequentbutnotinevitable,whateversomeinquisitorsmightthink.Ilookeddownthetable,andsawthebalanceofpowerarrangedateveryplacesetting.Themightyweredeckedintheirheavygownsofoffice,weigheddownwithmedallionsandcaskets.Theirfleshwasbronzedorblackorgold,paintedwiththefiligreeoffineMartianimprovements.Theymurmuredtooneanother,keeping heads bowed so thewords did not travel beyond the hearing of theirpresent counterpart. They were accompanied by pleasure-companions – -catamites, courtesans and confidantes, who were arrayed even morespectacularly in jerkins and gowns of silk and ruffs of lace. All skin wasflawless,alleyeswerebright,allconversationwasfluid.Iheldcourt,andenjoyeddoingso.IsawtheLordConstableoftheSynopticonlean in close to the neck of the Mistress Plenary of Catacombs and breathesomething intended to be scandalous. She absorbed the information withoutreaction,whichwaslittlesurprise,assheknewhewasdestinedforremovalinaweek’stime.SheknewthatbecauseIhadtoldher.Shewasthesponsorof theonewhowould replacehim,so I judged itprudent tokeepher informed,onlyaskingforthestandardlevelofdiscretioninreturn.Theywereallatthesamegame,myguests–angling,jostling,manoeuvring–
and that gaveme no little pleasure, as theywere all stepping, to a greater orlesserextent,tothemovesIhadgiventhem.I took another bite, then reached for a golden goblet of opalwine.My handswereheavywithsilver,myarmsdrapedwithacloakofthickvelvet.OnlyasIdrewtherimtomylipsdidInoticethepresencehoveringatmyarm.Ihadno servitors inmyemploy. Idetest them,andevennowwillnot admitthem tomy chambers. All my staff were human-normal, trained at the finestscholaeanddestined forpositionsof theirownwithin theAdeptusTerra.Thiswasoneofthosewhohadexcelled–astudentpluckedfromtheScholaHavrathbefore he had turned fifteen standard, now my poison-catcher, his bloodswimmingwithanti-toxins.‘Lord,’hewhisperedsoftly,loweringhishead.Iturnedtohim.‘Whatisit,Galeas?’‘Forgiveme.TheMasterawaitsinyourreceptionchamber.’Ididnotneedtoaskwhichone.TherewerethreeMastersamongtheTwelve.TheMasterof theAstronomican,LeopsFranck,wouldnothave travelledherewithout warning, for he never went without an entourage of over a hundredattendants and that required planning;while theMaster of theAdministratum,IrthuHaemotalion,wouldnothavedeignedtovisitme,butwouldhaverequiredmetovisithim,suchweretherequirementsofprecedencethathesetgreatstoreby. That left one: the Master of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica, Zlatad AphKerapliades.Myheartsank.Iwasenjoyingmyself.Kerapliadeswasabore,amanatrophiedbyhisworkandshrivelledintoadrabkernelofpessimism.Ifhehadcomehere,itwouldbeduetosomedireportentdeliveredbyhisranksofdream-speakers.The portents scryed byKerapliadeswere always dire, and had been since hisfirstblindedinterpreterhadbeenboundtotheGod-Emperor’sholywill.But he was a High Lord. If he was here, then I needed to be with him. Iobservedrank,forallmymanysins–notevenmymanyenemieseveraccusedmeotherwise.‘Thankyou,’ I said toGaleas in the closed-speechofourhousehold. ‘Ensurehe’scomfortable–Iwillbetherepresently.’Ididnotmoveimmediately.OtherswouldhaveobservedGaleasleaving,andto follow him too swiftlywould have invited speculation. I ate somemore, Idrank some more, I planted a seed of gossip in the mind of the UrbaniusCardinal of the Opheliate Tendency and exchanged pleasantries with a majorgeneraloftheAstraMilitarumsegmentumcommand.
Whenthetimewasright,whentheebbandflowoftheconversationhadtakenitsowncourse,Irosefrommyseatandpulledmyrobesaroundme.‘You’llhavetogetalongwithoutmefora littlewhile,’ Isaid. ‘Trynot toeateverything,oreachother,whileI’mgone.’Then I was out into the corridors, padding along the polished floors of mydomain. Iwasdimlyawareofmovement in theshadows–mycadresofcloseprotectionbodyguards,hangingwithinlas-shotrange,trackingmyeverymove.AftersomanyyearsIbarelynoticedthem,andevenhadtheynotbeencladincameleo-plateImighthaveforgottentheyweretherealtogether.My aide-de-camp Anna-Murza Jek fell in alongside me, her long gownwhisperingovertheblackmarble.‘What’sgoingon?’Iasked,neverbreakingstride.‘He’sflankedbyhisnulls,’shesaid,speakingquicklyasshealwaysdid.‘Thatmakesthingsdifficult.Thisisaguess–he’sworriedaboutCadia.’‘I’mworriedaboutCadia.’‘Idon’thavemuchelse.’‘Runagrid-searchoverhisseniorstaffmovements.’‘Alreadyunderway.’‘HowmanyofourpeopledowehaveintheScholastia?’‘Thirty-seven.’‘Makecontactwiththemall,andhavereportsinmychamberbeforedawn.’‘Alreadyunderway.’Ireachedthedoorstomyreceptionchamber,turnedtoJekandsmiled.‘Whenyou’redone,haveadrink.’‘Ifthere’stime,lord,’shesaid,bowingandwithdrawing.Thedoorsopened.My reception chamberwas awonderful place. It ought to have been– I hadeighty years to refine it. The objects within it were the most exquisite, thedecoration a study in good taste. On occasion, despite all the changes, I stillspend time there,enjoying it.TheHighLordshave theirownpalaces,and thespiresoftheSenatorumarethemostmagnificentintheentiregalaxy,butIstillprefertheoasisImadethere.ItactsastheexemplarofthemessageIwishedtosend at all times – that we are more than guns and fury. We are an ancientspecieswithsubtletastes.Weareintelligent.Andwearestillhere.‘Mygreetings,Master,’Isaid,closingthedoorsbehindme.Kerapliadeswasstandingbeforeasandstone fireplace.Hegaveno indicationhehadanycomprehensionofhowvaluableitwas–overtwelvethousandyears
old, fashioned in pre-Unity Francia, literally irreplaceable – but I could notblame him for that. He spent his days in iron-ribbed spires determining howmanythousandsofhumansoulswouldbefedintothemechanismsoftheThroneand how many hundreds would be doled out to lives of unremitting duty assanctionedImperialpsykers.Imighthavebeenlessthanequable,hadIbeeninhisplace.‘Isthechambersecure?’Kerapliadesasked.His long face, a bony white-grey with sunken black eyes, regarded memournfully. He was nearly two metres tall, with high-bunched shoulders andlongslenderarms.Hisrobesofofficeweresimple–black,heavyfabrichanginginlongswathes.Hewasflanked,asJekhadwarnedme,byhistwonulls,whosepsychicdampeningaurawaspalpableeventome.‘Allmychambersaresecure,Master,’Isaid.‘Youknowthis.’‘Iknownothinganymore.’Kerapliadesleanedonasteelstaffwithanironeyeatitstip.‘Itookarisk,cominghere.’Helookedatmewithrheumyeyes.Ihadnevermanagedtofindoutjusthowmuch he could see through them. Almost all astropaths are blinded by theircreationritual,andthosewhoretainsomevisualfunctionaredamagedinotherways,sotheysay.Ineverlikedtospeculatetoocloselyonwhathiseyesmusthaveseensincehisownsoul-binding.‘Wespeakinconfidence,’Itoldhim,andthatwastrue.AnythingtoldtomebyoneoftheCouncilwouldneverbedisclosedtoanotherunlesstheywishedittobe.Kerapliadeslimpedawayfromthemantelpiece.Therewerechairseverywhere,butIknewhewouldn’tsit.‘It’sCadia,’hesaid,asifthatconveyedeverythingthatneededtobesaid.Welldone,Jek,Ithought.ForaslongastheImperiumhadexisted,Cadiawaseverattheforefrontofitsdeliberations.Over the last twohundredyears–my lifetime– theHighLordshaddevotedanever-increasingamountoftimetothatoneworld.Regimentshadbeen thrown into the void to bolster it. Space Marine Chapters had beenpetitioned to reinforce itsapproaches.Armour-wrightsandstrategeoshadbeensecondedtoaugmentitswallsanditsfortresses.Therewereotherbattlezonesofimport–Armageddon,Badab–inwhichwewerestretched,butintruthnoneofthemmatteredbesidesCadia,forifthatworldfellthenthebalanceofpowerwehadcultivatedfortenthousandyearswouldbeendedatastroke.‘Youhavetidingsfromthesector?’Iasked.
‘None.’‘Wellthen,’Isaid.‘Intheabsenceofthat–’‘Youdonotunderstandme.’ItwasthenthatIfirsttrulynoticedtheMasterwasnothismoribund,desiccatedself.Iwasusedtoseeinghimgloomy.Iwasnotusedtoseeinghimscared.Hislonggrey fingers clutched at his support, and even that didnot quell the fainttrembling.‘Wecanhandle thevisions,’hesaid,andhenolonger lookedatme.Idonotthinkhewaslookingatanythinginthechamberjustthen.‘Idonotaskanyofmyalpha-level astropaths toundergowhat Iwouldnotmyself. Iwitnesswhattheywitness.Iundergothesametrials.’Ilethimspeak.Iwillbetruthful–hismannerdisturbedme. Kerapliadeswasnottheconfessionalsort.Iwonderedifhismindhadfinallybeencrackedbythestrainputonit,yethedidnotshowsignsofmania,justakindofdread.‘Probing that close to the Eye has always been perilous,’ he went on. ‘Butnow–nothing.Noterror.Noscreamingvisions.Acurtainhasbeendrawnacrossit.’I did not knowwhat to say to that.We had been at full-scale war over theCadian Gate for over five years, and during that time we had relied on theAdeptusAstraTelepathicaforthevastbulkofourknowledgeofhowourforceswere faring. There had always been interference, and ambiguity, and oftencontradiction,butneversilence.InmynaivetyIevenwonderedwhetheritmightbeagoodthing–thatthenightmaresunleashedbyourenemiestheremightbefinallyabating.ThenIlookedattheMasteragain,andsawimmediatelythatitwasnotagoodthing.‘Tellmewhatyouneed,’Isaid.‘Need?’ Kerapliades barked a dry sort of laugh. ‘I need a thousand morepsykers – stronger ones, not the dross I get from the Black Ships now.’ Heblinked.Hisbreathingwasshallow.‘Thisisdifferent,chancellor.Ican’treadityet,butmybloodtellsmetrueenough.Don’tbemisledbythiscalm–itcomesbeforecatastrophe.’He had told me similar things before. I might have learned to ignore thewarnings,ifitwerenotforthehorrendousexpressiononhismournfulface.‘TheTwelvemustmeet,’hesaid.‘AndDissolutionmustbeenacted.’So thatwas it.Another throwof thisolddie.Despitemyself,myheart sank.TheargumentshadbeenscouredoverandoverformoreyearsthanIhadbeen
alive,andtherehadneverbeenaresolution.‘Idonotthinkthatwillbeeasy,’Isaid,alreadydetermininghowsuchathingcouldbedone.‘Camerainferiorisnotscheduledforanotherthreemonths.’Kerapliadeswhirledaround,fixingmewithhisstrange,swimmingeyes.Ifeltabrief tremor, just for a moment – a flash of insight into his colossal psychicpower.Itwasnotmeantasa threat,I think, justamomentarylapseincontrol,buttheeffectwasstillstartling,likeplacingone’shandonstaticelectricity.‘Youcanmakeithappen,’hesaid.Possiblyso.‘Haveyouspokenofthistoanyoftheothers?’Iasked.‘None,’hesaid.‘Then Ibegyou–donot.Notyet. Iwillmakemyapproaches– itwouldbebestcomingfromme.’‘I know,’ he said, and a grim smile cracked his features. ‘You havewormedyourway into theconfidenceofusall,doorkeeper.Sometimes I thinkyouarethemostdangerousmanonTerra.’Perhapshemeantthattobeflattering.‘Yougivemetoomuchcredit,’Isaid.‘Imerelyaccommodate.’‘Soyousay.’Thehollowlookinhiseyesreturned.‘Doit,though.Dowhathastobedone.Ifyouneedcoin,ifyouneedanything,letmeknow.’Thatwasanamusingthought.Ihadmorecointhananyofthemknew.Icouldhave bought half the Council with it already, were any of them remotelyinterestedinsuchthings,but,totheircredit,noneofthemwere.Iftheyhadvicesthentheywereallconnectedtopower,notavarice,andbaublesheldlittleswayoversuchsouls.‘Of course, there isonedifference, this time,’ I venturedcautiously,knowingthatIwastellingKerapliadessomethinghealreadyknew.‘TheLordBrachhasnotyetbeenreplaced,andsooneseatisempty.’‘Yes,andyouknownowwhatmustbedone,doyounot?’‘IdonotchoosetheHighLords,’Isaid.‘Gotoseehim,’hesaid.‘Idonotthinkhewillreceiveme,’Isaid.‘Youwillfindaway,’hesaid.Andthatwasit.Thatwaswhyhehadcome–toplantthisideainmyhead,togive it his blessing. I judged from this that he had support fromothers of theTwelve – he would not have advanced it if not. He was bound by the LexImperialis frommaking overt approaches himself, aswere all his peers in theCouncil,butthatwouldneverstopthemfrommakingtheirviewsknown.
It put me in a delicate position. Half the Council had always been againstDissolution, half for it. A reconfiguration might not change that, and byintervening now I risked aligning myself with a losing cause – a dangerousthing,evenforamanlikeme.Iwould need time to think. Iwould need time to conferwith Jek andplot aroute through this. The tides of intrigue in the Palace could rise fast and fallfast–thetrickwasnottobecarriedbythem.Ibowed.‘I’mhonouredthatyoucame,Master,’Isaid.Kerapliadesdidnotreturnthebow.‘I’llbewaiting,’hesaid,limpingtowardsthechamber’sdoors.Hisnullswentwithhim,makingmyfleshcrawlastheypassedme.Oncehewasgone, Iwaitedawhile,ponderingwhat tomakeof thevisit.Hisfearhadnotbeenfeigned.IstillfounditunsettlingtowitnessfearfromaHighLord,andthataloneweighedmoreheavilyonmethananythinghehadsaid.After a suitable interval, Jek reappeared, looking curious. ‘Anything ofimportance?’sheasked.‘Notsureyet,’Isaid.IwasawareIhadguestswaiting.IplacedmyhandsonJek’stothankherforherconcern,butcouldnot linger toconsulther then– thatwouldhavetowaitforafewhours,bywhichpointImighthavesettledtheissuesmoreclearlyinmyownmind.Iwentbacktowardsthediningchamber,graduallyresumingmyappearanceofjovialityasIwalked.BythetimeIre-entered,myfacewasfullofsmilesagain.‘Whatkeptyou?’askedthewomansittingonmyleft,justasthefinalcourseswerebeingdelivered.‘Greatmattersofstate?’‘A little indigestion,’ I said, reaching for the sorbet. ‘Not that there’s muchdifference.’
VALERIAN
Wewereneversoldiers.Wheneverweareseenoutsidethewallsofthisplace,asrareasthatis,itisinourmartialaspect.Wearecladingold,justaswewereintheearliestdayswhenHewasourlivingcaptain,andmortalsfallontheirfacesas ifbeforegods.Tothem,itmustseemasifwearewrathincarnate.Tothem,itmustseemasifwewerecreatedfordestructionandnothingelse.ButwewereHiscompanions,once.WeweretheonesinwhomHeconfided.WewereHis counsellors, wewereHis artisans.Wewere the first glimpse atwhat the species could become, if shepherded aright and unshackled from itsviciousweaknesses.Of course,wewere taught to fight.He knew thatwarwould come. Itwas anecessarypartoftheascension,thoughitwasneverdestinedtolastforeternity.Wewere the guardians of a new age, and had to be strong enough to keep itsecure.Wefailedinthat,andnowwearthemarkofthatfailureintheblackrobesthatcoverourauramite.Itisapermanentreminder,replacingthecloaksofblood-redthatonceadornedourbattleplate.Itweighsheavywitheveryoneofus,forweknowmoreofthenatureofthefallthanmost.Westillrecitetheoldstories,andwestudyinthelostarchiveswherewealonearesufferedtotread,andsodonothave the comforting illusions of ignorance to salve the wound. In a galaxydefined by ignorance,we remember.We cultivate the shards of the thing thatwasbroken,andremainawareofwhatwouldhavebeen.Ithinksometimesthatthisknowledgeisthemostsevereofourmanyburdens.
Anybrutalsoulmayfightifhehasthegoalaheadofhim.Wefightknowingthatour truest purpose lies behind us, and all that remains is faithfulness to anextinguishedvision.Butstillwepreserve.Wetendthethingsofvaluethathavesurvived.WeseektoembodyHiswillinallthings.WecleavetoHislightasthedarknessgathers.Weinterpret,westudy,wedelveintothephilosophyoftheages.We havemany duties.But that is just as it should be, forwe are not simplecreations.Theaeonshavechangedusinmanyways,butnotinthat.Wewereathousandthingstoathousandsouls,butwewereneversoldiers.
I amValerian, Shield-Captain of the Palaiologian Chamber of the Hykanatoi.Likeallmybrothers,Ihavemanyothernames,carvedinalongtrailoneaftertheotheralongtheinsideofmybreastplate.Somenameswereearnedincombat,manymorewereearnedaftercontemplationofthemysteries.Wecleavetothisoldpractice,thoughIdonotknowforcertainifweobservetheritualscorrectly.Somuch has been lost as themillennia unwind, andmost significant of all iscertainty.Inourtheology,wetalkofthespeculumcertusandthespeculumobscurus.Thefirst of these is the study of what is already known. If this strikes you aspointless,allowme to respectfullydemur, for it isone thing toknowwhat theEmperorsaid,andquiteanothertoknowwhatHemeant.Heleftnowrittentestimony.TheentiretyofwhatweknowofHimisrevealedeitherthroughtherecordsofremembrancersortheecstaticvisionsgiftedtothefaithful.Andthus,whenathingisplacedinthecanonofthecertus,theintentionbehind it can never be fixed with surety. There are arguments nearly tenthousand years old concerning single utterances committed to parchment ahundred years after He spoke last from mortal lips. There are savants in theTowerofHegemonwhohavedevoted theirentire lives to the interpretationofsuchfragments,andwedonotscornthem,fortheirstudyisthestudyoffate’sweftitself.Evennow,itispossibletogainenlightenmentthroughmeditationonthewordsofthosewholivedthen.But if the matter of the certus provokes debate, then that is nothing to thecontroversy of the obscurus, for the Emperor leftmuch unsaid thatHewoulddoubtlesshavemadeclearintime.TherewerethingsHewouldhavewishedustoknow,hadthereonlybeentheopportunitytoplaceitonrecord.Welookoutfrom our spires at the realm of mankind as it exists now, and we can onlyspeculatewhatHis intention is towards it. This is the study of the Emperor’s
Will,revealedindreamsandthepatientscrutinyofarcanelogic.Ifsuchmattersboreorbaffleyou,thenforgiveme,fortheyaretheobjectsofmyveryexistence.Iamnamedphilologusbymy brothers–thescholar.IfIdidnothavemymanyotherduties,Icouldimaginealifeimmersedintheminutiaeofsuchphilosophy.Thatmayappearasindulgent,andawasteofthegiftsgiventome,butsuchwouldbetomisunderstandtheprecipiceonwhichweteeter.WithoutHim,wearelost.Everythingislost.OuronlysalvationisthroughtheinterpretationofHisWill, andasaconsequenceofour failurewemustdivinethismuchasablindmanmightdivinethepatternofmarksonanunseenpage.And,inanycase,Ihaveneverhadtheluxuryofanindulgentlife.Foralongtimenowthewallsweguardhavebeencrumbling.Enemiesassailusfromeveryquarter, striking even at the heart of the most heavily guarded citadel in theImperiumofMan, forcingus tobecomewhatwewerenever intended tobe–purevengeance,puredefiance.Inthat timeI tookupmyspear,andfoundadifferentartistrythere,but thosewerenotthefirstbattleswefought.Theytookplacewithinthewalls,andwereconductedwithourownkindamidtheveryPalacewhereHeyetdwelt,dormantinHisdeathlessvigil.Ididnotknowitthen,backbeforetheskieswerecleavedand the foundations of all creationwere rocked, but it began at thatmoment,withthearrivalofamortalmantothehallsoftheundying.
Hewasoverweight,withawryfaceandsparsecurlsofage-whitenedhair.Hecarriedhimselfpoorly,almostapologetically,asifheweresomehowsurprisedtobeinstantiatedatall.Hisdress,however,wasfarfrommodest–athickrobeofpurpleoverlaidwithachasubleofgold.HeboreiconsoftheHighCouncil,thedouble-headedaquilasurmountedbytheskull-within-halo.I knew his name, but had never met him in person before. That was notespeciallyunusual– even the senior staffof theAdministratum ran intomanytensofthousands,thoughthisonewasmoreinfluentialthanmost.Outoflonghabit,virtuallyunconsciously,Ireachedajudgementonthefastestmethodofkillinghim.Ifoundtheoptimalresults–lessthanamicrosecondofeffortrequired–slightlyamusing.‘ChancellorTieron,’Isaid.Ididnotbow.Therearesomewhosee thisabsenceof traditionalcourtesyasarrogance, but in truth we only bow to the Master of Mankind, for to dootherwise would be the most profound dis respect. I attempted to be non-threatening, however, and extended my hand to usher him into my private
chambers.‘Shield-captain,’Tieronsaid,bowingconventionallyandgoinginside.Iwasnotwearingarmour,onlythesimpleblackrobesofmyorder.Evenso,IwasoverathirdtallerthanTieronandfarmoreheavilybuilt.Myroomswerenodoubtsparser thanhewasusedto,beingun-dressedstoneandsolelycandlelit.Theonlyrelieffromtheausterelinescamefrommypilesofhideboundbooks,somesurroundedbyglitteringstasisfieldstopreservethefragilecontents.‘I’m grateful for this audience,’ the man said, settling into the chair I hadselectedforhim.Itookmyplaceopposite.Iwouldhavepreferredtostand,butdidwhatIcouldtomakethingslessawkwardforhim.‘There isnothing tobegrateful for,’ Isaid. ‘Thechancellorof theSenatorumImperialisiswelcomehereatanytime.Yourburdensmustbeheavy.’He smiled a dry smile. ‘Nothing in comparison to yours,’ he said. ‘I’ll notdetain you longer than necessary – I request an audience with the Captain-General. I’m aware it’s difficult, but I’m acting on behalf of theCouncil. It’sbeenhard to knowwho to approach, as Iwas informed that both tribunes areindisposed,so–I’llsayitagain–I’mgratefulforyoumakingthetime.’Tieronwascorrect–bothtribuneswereindisposed.Heracleonwasperformingritualdutiesinhiscapacityasmasterofthe HataeronGuard,theCompanionsoftheEmperor,andwouldnothaverespondedtoasummonsfromanyone.Italeo,his counterpart,was engaged in holywarfare andwas similarly impossible toreachforallbutthemostvitalofcauses.Thechancellor,Ihadbeentoldbymyamanuensisbeforehand,hadbeenpreparedforthefirstcircumstance,butnotthelatter.Yes,theCustodiansfight.Yes,wehavebeendoingsoformillennia.Howelsecould it be that our fellowship remains prepared? Only the nature and theparameters of our warfare were at issue in those days of transition, not theessentialmatterofit.‘TheCaptain-GeneralisawareofthesituationwithintheCouncil,’Isaid.‘It’sadelicatestage,’Tieronsaid.‘Understandme,Idon’tactonbehalfofanyfaction,butI’mbeholdenwhenanyofthemaskme.’‘Understood.’‘Butyou’reawareofthedebates.’‘Perfectly.’‘Andthatmattersinthewararereachingacriticaljuncture.’IsuspectthatnooneintheentireImperiumknewthatbetterthanus.‘TheCaptain-General statedhisopposition to takinga seaton theSenatorum
Imperialisfifteenyearsago,’Isaid.‘Hisviewshavenotchanged.’‘Buttheseatmustbefilled,’Tieronsaid,quietly.Hewas an effective performer. I have seenmen andwomen enter into blindpanicwhenconfrontedwithoneofourkind.Thechancellorwas afraid– thatwasnatural–buthewasneitherfoolishenoughtohideit,norcravenenoughtolet it master him. He clearly knew what the settled position of the AdeptusCustodes was, yet must also have known that our master had come close toaccepting the honour following the death of Speaker Iulia Lestia of the OrdoMalleus, fifteen years ago.Now that ChancellorBrachwas gone too, anotherchancepresenteditself.‘Isthereunanimityinfavour?’Iasked.Thequestionwassuperfluous–weknewthepositionsofallelevenremainingHighLords–butIwasinterestedtohearTieron’sresponse.‘I’veserved theCouncil foreightyyears,’hesaid. ‘I’veneverknownit tobeunanimousaboutanything.’Heleanedforwards inhisseat,cuppinghishands.‘When Dissolution was last proposed, the vote was split evenly, six for eachmotion, and thusno actionwas taken. I can’t helpbut think thatmatters havebecomemoredesperatesincethen.Theproposalhereissimple,shield-captain–toplacethequestionintoyourhands.’‘Thatis,ifalltheLordscasttheirvotejustastheydidbefore.’‘Asafeassumption.’‘Nothinginthisgalaxyissafe,though,isit?’‘Hencetheneedtoconsiderthis.’Ismiled.Ilikedthisman.There had been a time when I despised mortals. In the early years of myservice,whenmyphysicalperfectionhadbeenachievedbutIknewlittleofthedeeper truthsof theuniverse, I saw themas irritants, impediments,everapt tostrayintocorruptionorfutility.ItwasNavradaranof theEphoroiwhochangedmymind.Hehasspentmoretimeoutside theconfinesof thePalace thanmostofus,andhiscounselhadagreat effect onme. In these darker days, I see humans as essentially children,which is not intended to belittle them.They have the potential to be somuchmore, but we, their guardians, will never lead them into that future if weconcentrateexclusivelyontheirinescapablefailings.Allfail,eventhegreatestofus.We,perhapsaboveall,oughttorememberthat.‘YouaretroubledbyCadia,’Isaid.Henoddedearnestly.‘Nothingtroublesmemore.Ireadthedispatches,Ihave
nightmares.Realnightmares,ones thatkeepme fromgetting the sleep Ineed.That’sthebackgroundtoallthis.That’swhat’schanging.’‘Itisoneworld.’‘It’stheGate.’‘Oneofmany.’Heshrugged.‘You’llknowmoreofthatthanme,butI’lltellyoutruly,theHighLordshaveneverbeenasanxious.Theythinkwe’llloseit.’‘Tellmethis,then–whatdifferencewouldDissolutionmake?’‘Idon’tknow.I’mnotamemberoftheCouncil.Myonlytaskhereistosettheoptionsbeforethosewho’lldecide.’I regarded him carefully. As we had been speaking, I had been making myassessment.Hewasclever,thatmuchwascertain.Thatclevernesswasdamagedbyadegreeofebullience,whichmaywellhavebeenover-compensation fromsomedeeper-seatedsenseofdoubt.TheImperiumasitexistsrewardsthestrongand the savage – this Tieron was clearly neither, and so had been forced todevelopotherstrategiesforsurvival.Icouldnotblamehimforthat.My masters would want to know if he could be trusted, though. My initialfeelingwas thathecould. It ishard todeceiveus,even for themost subtleofsouls,andIdoubtedTieronwouldbothertotry.‘Wearenotapartofyour Imperium,’ I said. ‘We involveourselveswithin itonlyifwedeemHiswilldemandsit.Doyoureallythink,chancellor,thatyourproposed audience with the Captain-General could have any influence on hisfinaljudgement?’Thiswasthequestion.Thiswaswherehelostorwonit.Iwaitedforthereplywithsomeinterest,andwaspleasedtoseethathedidnothesitate.‘Nottobeimpious,’hesaid,lookingmeintheeye,‘butyes,itmostcertainlycould.’‘Youareconfident.’‘I’mawareofthestakes.’‘Youthinkwearenot?’‘Justfiveminuteswithhim,’Tieronsaid,seriously.‘Thenwe’llsee.’
ALEYA
Inatimewhensomuchwaslost,wewerefound.It truly amazes me now, thinking back, knowing more than I did, that theImperium’s grasp on us had been let slip so completely.We held within ourhandsthekernelofsalvation,andwewereforgotten.Tobe sure,wehadalways served,here and there– they still had togarrisontheirBlackShips,andtherewereinquisitorswhounderstoodourvalue–butinessencetheyhadletuswither.IexplainedthistoValerian,alongtimelater,whenIwasstillangry.Hedidhisbest to understand that, but I could not help contrast the life he had enjoyed,cloisteredinhishallsofgold,immersedinthefinestandtheoldestthingsofafadingempire,whenwewereintheemptiness,scratchingforsurvivalashorrifictideslappedatourankles.Itwas all so stupid. That’s the great danger that condemns us – not daemonblades,butdumb ignorance.We’vebecomeastupid race,glorying in theeasygoalsofangerandpiety.Thenagain, I’mawaremyperspective isunusual.You see realitydifferently,lackingasoul.It’saharderplace,Ithink.Itsedgesaresharper.Therearenogodsinmyworld.Thethingsotherpeoplesee,Idonot.EvenHeisnotagodtous,thoughsayingthatoutloudwouldsoonseemeinagaolandontheracks.NotthatI’deversayitoutloud.NotthatI’deversayanythingoutloud.Idon’ttalkmuchthesedays.
I calledmyself awitch-seeker long before the rank became established again.
Thatwaswhatwedid,huntingthesoul-weakfromthelongshadows.Itwaslikeaninstinct.Thatwasallwehad,forThroneknowswehadlittleelse.Ourchamberwasnine-strong.Sevenofushadtakenthevow,twomorewereundergoingtrials.Intheancientpast, itwassaidthatthevowwastakeninthepresenceof theEmperor,but thatwasobviously impossible forus–wecouldnotevenreliablygettoTerra,letalonenegotiateanaudiencewiththeguardiansof the Throne.We observed the old rites as best we could, convening in ourdraughty old tower onArraissawith our chipped armour and blunted swords.None of us knew, when we spoke the words, if we did so correctly, but wemaintainedthefaith,andthebindingeffectwasasstrongforusas ithadbeenforoursistersingenerationspast.Thelastaudiblewordstopassmylipswere,‘Isovowit.’Actually,that’snottrue.Atthetime,though,Icertainlybelievedittobe.Afterthat,itwasallgestureandnuanceandThoughtmark.Ipreferredit.TheclarityIhave always sought came more easily when not distracted by the twitter ofpointless,fleetingutterances.If Ihad tomakeonechange,one singlechange thatmight restore somethinglike spine to this decaying Imperium, it would be this: say less, do more. Abattle-signgesture is the thing itself, the firstmovementof thesword-thrustorthetrigger-pull,notthespokencommand,whichisadifferentact.Somuchtalk,solittleaction.NowthatI’veseenTerraitselfI’veseenhowbaditcantrulybe.Therearehumanswhospendtheirentirelivesdrowninginwordswritten and spoken, bleeding their limited existence out over pointless verbaljockeying.Andtheysaywehavenosouls.MynameisTanauAleya.Iamoftheanathemapsykana,whatusedtobecalledanull-maiden,or–evenstupider–aSisterofSilence.Whocameupwiththosetitles? Not one of our order, that’s for sure. Probably a High Lord. They’remostlyidiots.Wedidn’thaveorganisedranksbackthen.Iservedundertheonewhohadkeptthingstogetherforalongtime,awomanwhosememoryIrevere.Istillhopetomeetheragain,forIdon’tthinkshecanpossiblybedead.Itwouldhavetakenawhole tideof theshedim tokeepherdown,and they’dbeshrieking thewholetimewhileshepulledthemapart.HernamewasSisterAtarineHestia,andshewastheonewhofoundusall,backwhenTerrahadallbutforgottenweexisted,pulledusup,beatsomesenseintoourhive-trashheadsandmadeuswarriors.Ithinkitmusthavebeenlikethatonahundredworlds,sometimeswithofficial
blessing,sometimesunderactivepersecution,butalwaysthere,gatheringinthedark,doingwhatwehadbeenmadetodo.Whomade us like this? I don’t know. I don’t thinkHe did. I thinkwewerealwayswaiting,playingdifferentparts,waitingforourtimetocomeagain.We’llallhaveourversionsofwhenitstarted.Forme, itwasout in thevoid,running silent, closing in on the benighted staging post of Hellion Quintus,where I had reason to believe there was a woman who had sold her soul todamnationforabriefescapefromthehellofliving.Iwasrightaboutthat.Iwasjustwrongabouteverythingelse.
I entered theHellion orbital zone on a single-personCull-class interceptor. Inthose dayswe rarely used fully crewed sub-warp vessels. Even highly trainedcadres of human-normals found it hard toworkwithus, so inmany casesweoptedforservitor-equippedships.Thosethought-deaddroneswerestillcapableof twitchingwhen Iwalked past them. Somewhere deep inwhat remained oftheirlimbicfunctionavestigialhorrorofmestillsquatted,whichwasannoying.Youcouldslicehalftheirbrainsopen,tietheirnervesintoloops,andstill theycouldbarelyremaininthesamechamberasus.Itwould beworse in the staging post, but Imight be able to get in and outwithoutattractingmuchattention.Hellionwasoneofthosethrowbackstations,builtsometimeintheverydistantpastwhentraderswouldstillattempttomakewarpjumpswithoutproperlysanctionedNavigators,thenfindthemselvesstuckinscream-spaceandhavingtoabortrapidly.Thevagariesofwarpconduitsbeingwhattheywere,thestationgrewuparoundwhatold-timecaptainsusedtocallabail-shaft–asafewellinrealspacesquattingatthebaseofawholeclusterofcapillaryexits.Foratime,soourintelligencetoldus, theplacehaddonewell,even attracting some military spending from the sub-prefect’s resiliencecommander to beef up its guns. The usual hangers-on turned up – permanenttraders,thieves,missionaries,pleasure-bringers.Theysaiditwasquitetheplacebackthen,ifrougharoundtheedges.Notnow.Nooneflewawarp-hullnowwithoutawholeteamofNavigatorstoguideit.Evencontemplatingmakingajumpwithoutmanydays’preparationandtheGeller fields at full integritywasmadness– the etherwas likeboilingoil,andrumoursaidmoreshipswerebeinglostnowthanwerebeingbuilt.ThatwasbadnewsforHellion,andalltheotherhalf-cocked stationsspinningwithin the old bail-shafts. Hardly anything dared to make the passage. Thebulkersstoppedcoming,asdidtheNavytenders.Theonlyshipsthatpliedsuch
routesnowweretheonesthathadareasontostayhidden,andthatdiminishedthe quality of Hellion’s occupants further. Respectable people drifted away,leavingwholesectionsofitsspiralstructureechoingandempty.Sotherewehadit–ahalf-desertedvoidstationfullofcontrabandrunnersandslavers operating off themajorwarp routes as the empyrean fizzedmadly allaroundit.Youdidn’tneedtobeaseertoguessthatitwasaweaklink,aplacewheremortalfallibilitywouldfindplentyofhookstogetentangledwith.Thatwasn’t all, of course.Wehad ourmethods, our informers, our hunches.We’d seen a pattern of events develop over the past few decades – cells ofshedim-worshippershadgrownmorenumerous,andwecouldn’tburnthemfastenough, especially considering the need to remain out of sight of the jumpierunits of the Adeptus Arbites. Hestia herself had immolated a secret societycalled the Circlet locked deep down under the shipyards orbiting Eyrinan V.Before theyhadalldied,wegotsomegarbled information that ledus tootherassociatedbedsofheresy,amongthemHellionQuintus.SohereIwas,cladinmyoldarmour,mycharredflamerinmyhand,watchingthedarktwistofmetalturningslowlyintheabyss.Ilettheservitorshandlethecommtrafficfordocking,whichinvolvedthemshuntingbinaricresponsecodesto similarly lobotomised creatures at the other end.We came in low, under aheavysupportingbeamforoneofthestation’sbigspokes.I finalised suitingup, andopened the airlockdoors into aplace that stankofhumanurine.Therewasnoonewaitingforme,notevenautomatedguard-units.Thecorridor’slumensstrobeduncomfortablyonlowpowerlevels.Iactivatedmyhelm’scartographicscannerandisolatedthechamberIneeded.There was a direct route through the lower strata, avoiding the station’spopulatedzones,whichmademytaskalittleeasier.Iwentquickly,huggingtheplentifulshadows.MostofthelivingthingsIencounteredwereservitor-grade,blindandlimpingcreatures of metal and pulled-flesh that ignored me. A few human-normalslingered in thosewells of darkness, and as soon as they laid eyes onme theylookedevenmorenauseousthantheyhadbefore,beforehurryingaway.Icaughtsight of flashes of grey in the dark, and filmy eyes, and emaciated handsclutchingatraggedcloak-ends.Humanity,Ithoughttomyself.Masterofthestars.Soon one of thosewretcheswould get amessage up towhat passed for theauthorities in that place, alerting them to the strangely armoured interloperskulkingalonginthegloom,butbythatpointIplannedtobelonggone.
Ireachedmydestination–alockeddoorsetamidawholerowoflockeddoors.Theplasteelwaspittedandspottedwithrust,andinthecentreofthepanelwasasmallarmourglassslide-viewer.Imighthavechosentodepressthesummon-chimeandwaitforsomeonetopulltheviewer’sshieldingback,butlongexperiencehadtaughtmethatmyuniquerepulsiveness could be detected even through a solid mass, so I seized themechanismwithmygauntlet,activatedafreeze-gripandshatteredit.ThenIwasthrough,kickingthedoorasideandscanningbeyondit.Idetectedmovement fromsixwarm-bodieswithin– twoupclose, fourmore furtheroff.Las-fire criss-crossed out of the gloom, aimed immediately and accurately. Iduckedundertheworstofit,lettingmyarmourdealwiththerest.ThehotstenchofscorchedauramitefilledmynostrilsasIopenedupwithmyflamer.Icaughtthetwoclosestinthatinferno,andsoonheardthecounterpointoftheirscreams.Alasgun’spowerunitblew,showeringtheconfinedspacewithaburstof static, but by then I was already pushing through the shimmering flame-curtainstotheonesbeyond.Theyfiredback,andIperceivedoutlinesofarmouredbodiestremblingintheheat-shake. Nothing they possessed could harm me. My presence alone wasenoughtomaketheirfleshrebel,andIcouldsmellpanicintheirgestures.Iusedmyflameslikeaflail,pullingthemroundandmeltingtheircrudearmourplates.Even as they were dying I learned something of them. They were betterequipped and better armed than the cultmembers I had expected, whichwasgood, as it indicated we’d found a higher breed of degenerate. I glimpsedsnatchesofbarefleshastheirarmourcrispedaway–paleanddiseased–beforeittoowasconsumed.Theydidnotrun,despitetheirfear.Neverletitbesaidthathatredhadblindedmeentirely toquality– Icouldappreciatea foewhostoodtheirground.Soon, though,onlyoneremained– thewomanIhadcomefor,backingawayfromme.Shewasportly,swathed ina layerof fat thatwasprobablysyntheticand designed for endurance during void transit. She was wearing the slackuniformof amaintenance supervisor,markedwithpalegrey runesof relevantexpertise,butshewasnomaintenancesupervisor.Evenoneoftheungifted,evenoneoftheverystupidestofourspecies,oughttohave been able to spot it – thewrongness, hanging over her like foul flatus.There were no visual cues, just a certain manner, a certain bearing, and itshriekedoutmoralsqualor.I let the flamer gutter out. She looked atme, her eyes half-steady, holding a
lasguntwo-handed.Shehaddarkhair,mattedwithgreasysweat.She grinned atme twitchily. I could see shewas terrified. Perhaps she knewbetterthanmostwhatIlackedthatIshouldhavepossessed.‘Theytoldusyou’dbeadanger,’shesaid.I don’t know what she expected me to do then. Talk to her? I wasn’t evenremotelytempted.Talking,likemostthings,isaskillbuiltonrepetition.Afterawhile,youloseeventhemotivationtopractise.I looked around the chamber. Documents were spread out across dark irontables,amongthemdata-slatesandsecurecomm-canisters.Ononeofthewallswasagreatchartmadeofwhatlookedlikeanimalhides,onlypartburnedawayby my flamer. It contained symbolic representations of planetary systems,connectedbyaskeinofwarproutesetchedinadarkbrownfluid.‘Too late, anyway,’ she said, trackingmewith herweapon, a standard-gradeitem that hadno chanceof troublingmy armour. ‘Doesn’tmatter now. It’s allending,andverysoon.’I found her certainty intriguing. Most invective from cultists was bluster,designed to bolster their own courage more than anything else. This wasdifferent.Shealmostsoundedsorryaboutit.Ilookedbackather,andsherecoiled.Herlipcurledback,shetookastepawayalmostbeforeshe’drealisedit.Letmetellyousomething.Younevergetusedtoit.Youneverlosethewounds.Yougrowup,yourwholelife,surroundedbypeoplewholoatheyouforareasontheycan’tevenarticulate,anditgetsstuckunderyourskin.Thetraininghelps,ofcourse.Welearntechniques.Wehaveoldmantrastorecite,tellingourselvesthat we are in reality the greatest of His servants, which is less aboutboastfulness than self-preservation, but you never really believe it, and everyflinch,everyappalledexpression,twiststheoldknifealittlebit.‘Iwon’ttellyouanything,’shesaid,defiantly.Whatastrangenotion.ShethoughtIwastheretoquestionher.Iopenedtheflamerupagain,dousingherinacolumnofheart’s-blood-fire.ForamomentIwatchedherwritheandjerkwithinthehotpurification,herbodyablackclotagainstthescreenofunleashedenergy.Solookatmenow,Ithought,allowingmyselfasliverof savagepleasureatthespectacleofthiswoman’sjustandwarrantedsuffering.Ilettheexecutiongoontoolong.Iuseduptoomuchsacredfuel,whichwasasinHestiawouldnotfindeasytoforgive.BythetimeIwasdone,herbodywasasteamingheapofembers,lacedwiththelastboilingremnantsofherbloodand
elements.I shut offmy flamer’s promethium line. I took a longbreath. I let the heavycloudsofheatdissipate.ThenIwentovertothechart.Unsurprisingly,thematerialwasnotanimalhide,butsomethingfouler.Moresurprisingly,itwasacoherentrepresentationofwarpspace, suchasmightbeusedby aNavigatoror an Imperial general. Iwasnoscholaroftheempyrean,butIcouldunderstandagreatdealofwhatitdepicted.Tomyeye,itlookedlikethekindofschemausedbyatacticalwar-planner–analmanacofsystems,arrangedintheesotericorderimposedbywarpcurrents.Itookapictofthedataforlaterstudy,andmovedovertothepilesofcomm-canisters.Manyweremarkedwithrunesofwarding–smearsofblooddesignedtoinvokecursesonanyonetamperingwiththemwithouttheproperinitiation.Iactivated hololith-beams from their emitters, and got little back but fuzzy,scrambledimagesformytrouble.Theywereeithererased,ormyunsanctionedusagehadautomaticallywipedthecontents.I had to revisemyopinionsof this rabble again.Theywerebehaving almostprofessionally.Iwent back to the smouldering body of thewoman. She had been clutchingsomething before I had burst in – what looked like a hand-mirror, framed inheavybronzeintheshapeofagaspingmouth.AsIpickeditup,Ifeltasparkofenergycurlacrossmyfist.Theflatsurfacewascloudy,markedwithhalf-imagesthatstillscudded.Iwasabouttoshatterit,recognisingaproscribeddevicethatcouldbedissectedatleisureonmyreturntothehomeworld,whentheglasssuddenlyclarified.Ifound myself looking into the dead eyes of something much, much moretroublingthantheburnedwomanatmyfeet.Iwillbehonest–myheartmissedabeat.There’snoshameinthat.TherearefewamongthelivingwhocanlookuponthefaceoftheEnemydirectlyandnotfeelaspasmoficeclutchattheirhearts.Itwasraretoseeoneoftheminsuchamanner.Ihavekilledtheirkindbefore,of course. I take no greater pleasure than seeing a cursed warrior of the OldLegionsdieatmyhands,fortheyareamongthegreatestofthefoesweface,andeminentlycapableofendingusjustaswearecapableofendingthem.Wemadethe study of their ways the focus of our scarce resources, scrutinising theirancient iconography and their base heraldry for anything that might help usunderstandtheirintentions.SoIknewwhatitwasIlookedat.Itwasnotalivefeed,butthelaststutterof
whateverarcanecommunicationhadbeeninusebeforeIentered.IwasstaringatawarriorofthegreatestofallthehostsoftheEnemy–theself-styledBlackLegion.Isawit throughveilsofrisingmist,butcouldperceiveclearlyenoughthe ebon death mask, rimmed with greenish gold. I had faced these unholyfightersbeforeincombatonlyonce,manyyearsago,andcouldvouchfortheirextremedeadliness.Of all thevariouswarbands andmongrel battalionsof theEnemy,itwasthisLegionthateverportendedtheworstdaysaheadforus.Icouldnotunderstandwhatwasbeingsaid.Thelanguagewasdistortedbytheextreme distance, or mangled by sorcery, or perhaps spoken in some gutturalbattle-code, but its very presence here changed thewhole tenor of this action.Somethingnecessaryyetroutinehadjustbecomecritical–iftherewasanylink,eventheslightest,betweentheCircletandtheOldLegionsthenwordofithadtobetakenbacktoHestiaimmediately.I moved quickly, collecting the remaining canisters, intending to place boththemandthemirrorwithinanull-casketonboardmyinterceptor.I tookdownthehidemapandrolledittightly.AsIwent,Ilaidchargesaroundthechamber,givingthemonlyafewminutestocountdownbeforegoingoff.Soonaftermydeparture thiswhole levelwouldbepurged, leavingnohintofwhathad takenplacewithin.Theneedforhastewaspressing.Itwasonly as I reached thebrokendoorway that I heard theword that trulyknockedmeoffbalance.Amidallthegrowlsandhissesofthestill-activefeed,there came a name so familiar that no distortion could disguise it. Thelegionnairespokeitlikeanexpletive,sharpandvicious,andthustherecouldbenomistake.Arraissa.Istartedtorun.
TIERON
Inthosedaysitfeltlikethetasksbeforeuswouldneverend.TheCouncilactedwithgreatpurpose,as faras Icouldascertain,but itwasscarcelysufficient tomeet the growing tide of demands. We did not need Kerapliades’ counsel toknowthat thewarwasgoingbadly,andyet thespecificsstilleludedus.Warpstorms were rising to levels never witnessed by the living, astropathic choirssuccumbed to madness, deafness or torpor, and my attempts to gain furtherinformation through the usual web of contacts yielded very little. Somehow,throughthatoddsenseofherdintuitionthatalwaysranaheadoffirmtidingsonewayortheother,theThroneworldbegantopanic.WebegantoreceivemorereportsthanusualfromthePalaceguards,allofthemcomplainingofseditioninthegreatslum-pansoutbeyondthegargantuanwalls.Itwasnothingtheregularenforcerscouldn’thandle,butthefrequencybotheredme.Thesewerenotcarefullyplannedrevoltsagainst the tyrannyof theLords,but spontaneous uprisings, confused and without purpose. When the leaderswereinterrogated,theycouldsaynothingotherthanthatamadnesshadseizedthem.Theydidnotpleadfortheirlives.Inmorethanonereport,itwassaidthatthey preferred death to what they thought was coming, which I found bothcontemptibleandunsettling.Muchofwhatpassedacrossmydeskremainedunread,suchwasthevolumeofmissives that came my way, rising out of every avenue like a foetid tide offloodwater. Therewas a sense, I remember, of things coming apart, of seamsgraduallyunpicking,oftheleversofcontrolnolongerpullingonthemachinerybelow.
Thatwashardlynew.Ihadhadthesamesensemanyothertimes,andyetorderhadalwaysbeenrestored,thewilloftheThroneclampedbackontoanunrulypopulace.Idon’trememberthinkingthatthiswouldbeanydifferent.OrperhapsI did. It’s hard now to recall, forwe did not restmuch then, and our dinnersbecame less fine andmore hurried, andwe shuffled endlessly from citadel tocitadelwithourparchmentbundlescarriedbytrainsoflumberingmenials.I met a general from the Cadian high command. His name was AlberichHarster, andhehadbeenbackonTerra for threemonthsby then. Iwas fairlyused to dealing with senior figures of the AstraMilitarum, though had neverquiteshakenoffmyvaguesenseof inferiority in theircompany.Youmayfindthis odd, given the mightier warriors I was used to dealing with, such asValerian,but inmymindthesewereanentirelydifferentcategoryaltogether–almostbeyondhuman.MenlikeHarsterwerewhatImighthavebecome,hadIbeen made of harder stone, and the lingering suspicion never left me that Isomehow hadn’t tried enough, and that my world of scholars and expensivewineswasaninsulttothosewhodieddailyinthetrenches.IfHarsterfeltthesameway,hegavenosignofit.Hewasoftheoldschool–calmlydeferentialwithoutgivingmuchaway.Herespectedmyrank,likeallthemilitary did, andwas diplomatic enough not to betraywhat he thought of itsbearer.IreceivedhiminthesamechamberwhereKerapliadeshadspokenwithme.Bydayitlookedmuchthesameasitdidbynight–Terra’ssludge-greysunlightdidlittletoleaventheoppressivegloomhangingoverallmyfinefurniture.‘General,’Isaid,offeringhimadrinkandtakingaseat.‘Chancellor,’hereplied,refusingitgraciouslyanddoinglikewise.Hewasabigman,hisneckcordedandtightupagainsthisdresscollar.Alongscarrandownhisrightcheek,bisectinganaugmeticeyesocket.Hisfleshwastannedtight,solidlikeoldleather,andhisgrey-whitehairwascroppedshort.‘Whendoyougoback?’Iasked.‘Twoweeks,’hereplied.‘Youtakethehopesofusallwithyou.’His expression did not flicker. ‘I take half a million soldiers, in fifty fresh-raisedregiments.Ithastakentenyearstomusterthem,andonlynowdoIhavethecommissiontodepart.IpraytotheThronetheywillnotarrivetoolate.’Iabsorbedtheimpliedinsult.ThewheelsofImperialbureaucracygrindslowly,andhecouldhavenoappreciationofhowdifficultataskitwastoraisesuchanarmyover such a short spanof time.Truthbe told, tenyearswasnothing– I
haveknownittakefivetimesaslongtogatherlesspotentforcestogether.‘Youhavebeenfightingalongtime,’Isaid.‘Tellmeofit.’‘Weendure,’Harstersaid,stiffly.‘Thelinewillnotbreak.’‘Come,general,’Isaid,placingmyring-heavyhandsinmylap.‘IfIwantedacatechismIwouldhavegonetoapriest.Tellmehowittrulystands.’For the first time, a shadow of unease fell across his features. He hesitated,knowing that it might be a test of fidelity to the public line we spun to themasses. After only a moment, though, the uncertainty passed. He had beenfightingtoolongtobeworriedaboutwhatImightdotohim.‘Halfamillionwillnotdoit,’hesaid.‘Tentimesthatwouldnotdoit.’Inodded.‘We’venotheardfromCadiaforalongtimenow.’‘Iknow.’‘That’s making all sorts of rumours fly around. The Gate might already bebreached,theysay.’‘I’veheardthoserumours.’‘You’llstilltravelthere?’Harster’s grey eyes – one natural, one ringedwith iron – stayed steady. ‘It’swhereourdutylies.’Despitemyself, thatcaughtme. I lookedat thisman,whohadmanyyearsofnatural life left tohim,andnodoubthad thecoinand influence to finda lesssuicidalposting,andsawwhatthosebrutesatthescholacouldbecome,oncetheedgeshadbeenknockedoffthem.Iwilladmitit–Ifeltshame.‘Whatcanbedone?’Iasked.He understood what I was getting at. I wished to know what the AstraMilitarum would make of our great undertaking, and whether they couldcountenanceit.‘I’veseenthingsnosanemanshouldsee,’hesaid,takingakindofroughpridein that, though it hollowedout his expression. ‘I’ve seen theAngels ofDeathdefeated.You think thatpossible?Ididn’t,but I’veseen it.There’sstrength intheuniversegreatereventhantheirs.Someofitdwellshere,theytellme,heldfast by the ancient law.’ His gaze, steel-hard, simply didn’t change. I’d havefollowed this one into battle, if that had beenmy calling. ‘They’re old laws.They’reoldhabits. Imightsay, if Iwereasked, thatwecan’tafford themanymore.’Ipursedmylipsinthought.Iwantedtothankhimforthat,butIsupposedhehadlittleuseforthanksfromsuchasme.‘Isee,’wasallIsaid.
Hewasgettingimpatient.Iknewwhenhislanderwasscheduledtotakehimuptothefleethanginginorbit–athousandslab-hulledtroopcarriers,escortedbyeveryNavyfrigatethePraesesCommandcouldscrapetogether.Afterameagretwoweeksofnodoubtunderstaffedpreparation,theywouldbegone,soIgotup,andwatchedhimdothesame.Wewalkedtothedoorwaytogether,meshufflingundermyheavyrobes,hestridingawkwardly,carryingoldwounds.‘MayHepreserveyououtthere,general,’Isaid,standingatthethreshold.Hegavemeacurtnod.Wewerebothobservant,butneitherofusthoughtthatitreallyworkedlikethat.Iknewwithperfectclaritythatthemanwasgoingtohisdeath,aswerethehalfamillionsoulshetookwithhim.Whetherthatwouldachieve anything, whether it would even slow the collapse, was anotherquestion.‘Wefightoutthere,’hesaid,makingthesignoftheaquila,thenlookingattheover-fashioned pillars of gold around him. ‘You fight in here. I don’t knowwhichofushastheworsejob.’Thenhewasgone,turningonhisbootheelandlimpingdownthecorridor.‘Ido,’Imurmured,watchinghimgo.
The engagement putme in a foulmood. For the first time in a longwhile, Ifound the bottomless mire of Terra’s slow-working procedures pointless andfrustrating.Iwasasmuchamasterof thosemazesasanywhohadever lived,andyet thewheels turnedwith agonising slowness in the faceof annihilation.Everythingtoldusthatthewallswouldbebreached,thatthefloodwouldrisetoengulf us, and yet we did what we had been doing for ten thousand years –raised fresh regiments, sent entreaties to wilful ChapterMasters, argued overprecedenceandsectorcommandsinCouncil.I strode down the corridors towards my secure command hall, ignoring themanystaffwhoattemptedtogetmyattention.All but one. I could never refuse Jek,whowas asmuch a part ofme asmysynthetic lungs.Shewasn’t asoldandbrokenas Iwas, andyethad thequickmind and steady intelligence needed to thrive in this old fen of competingrivalries.‘Howwashe?’ sheasked,walkingbrisklybesideme.That’swhatwealwaysseemedtodo–conducthurriedconversationswhileonthemovetosomefreshcrisis.‘Itbreaksmybloodyheart,’Igrowled.‘It’shisduty.’Thatwordagain–duty.Perhaps,once,therehadbeenmorethan
that.‘Tellmehowwestand,’Isaid.‘We have an agreed date,’ she said, letting a note of triumph slip into thestatement.Thiswaswhatwe’dbeenworkingfor–sloggingfordaysandweekswith the offices and sentinels and gatekeepers of the Twelve – and I finallylookedupather.‘TheNinthofDecimus.Allhaveagreed.’‘EvenRaskian?’‘EvenRaskian.’OudOudiaRaskianwas Fabricator-General of theAdeptusMechanicus, andthe hardest of all the Twelve to pin down to a general assembly at theSenatorum,sincehisphysical formwasmorebuilding thanbodyand requiredextensivemodificationtotravelfromMarsatall.ItwouldtakeeightBasilikonmegalifters to get him to the Palace, and all that required tedious orbitalclearance.Still,he’dagreed.We’ddoneit.‘Atlast,somegoodnews,’Imuttered,stillwalking.Aheadofmeloomedtheheavybronzedoorsofmycommandhall,flankedbygun-dronesandabraceofhouse guards in purple livery. ‘It doesn’t give us much time to organise theorders of inquiry. Arx has been pushing for her damnable intra-ordo summitmadness,andit’sgottostayofftheagenda.’You’llunderstand,Ihope,theneedfortheflurryofnameshere,forthepoliticswascomplicated–KleopatraArxwastheInquisitorialRepresentative,andhadbeenagitatingforagrandreorganisationof the labyrinthine layersofcellsandcabalswithinherpurview,somethingthatrequiredamajorityoftheHighLordstowarrant. Iwanted this tortuousand largelyadministrativeproposalnowherenearthetable,foritcouldonlydelaythetrulyimportantmattersathand.‘I’ve put out feelers, chancellor,’ said Jek. ‘The Provost is opposed, so weshouldbeabletodeferuntilthenextscheduledsession.’As the doors opened, revealing the vast domewithin,mymindwasworkinghard.Ibarelysawthehundredsofmenialsandsavantstoilingovertheircomm-stationsandscholaricpedestals.Throughhighwindowsaboveus the toweringprofile of the Inner Palace could be seen against the sky, all of it grey andmonolithic.Forsometime,virtuallytheentiresetofmechanismsatmycommandhadbeendevoted toa singlegoal– toplace the issueofDissolutionbefore theTwelve,andgetthemtomeettoconsiderit.Atthestart,Ihaddonesooutofasenseofduty toKerapliades;asIhad learnedmore,andspoken to those likeHarster, I
hadcometoseeitastheonlytaskingthatmadeanysenseatall.Andmorethanthis–Iwantedittosucceed.Remember this: history records thewarriors and the sword-bearers, but therewerealwaysthosewhodidwhatwasnecessarytogetthemtobattle.Thatwasmyrolenow,theonecontributionIcouldmake.‘Mymindissluggish,’Isaid,makingmywayuptomystrategiumplatform–ahexagonal plane of rippled marble overlooking the great expanse of workers,studded with a mighty polished stone table and encircled with floating picterlensesandhololithcasters.‘Ineedtosetthingsintheirrightplace.’Jekjoinedmeatthetable’sedge.Isummonedaread-outofourrunningtacticalsituation,andlithcastsflickeredintotranslucentlifearoundme.Everymemberof theCouncilhadanentry there, scored invivid red runes. Ihada teamattachedtoeachone,shadowingtheirmovementsandreportingontheirconversations. Itwouldhavecomeas little surprise to them toknow thattheirinnercourtswereinfiltratedbymyspies,fornodoubtmyownorganisationwassimilarlyriddled,butmypeoplewerebetter.Ilookedoverthedata.Despiteeverything,alltheentreatiesandthequietbribesand the appeals to reason, the matter remained poised. The structure of theCouncil had been designed to encourage consensus. It was twelve-strong,making it hard to pass contentious acts, for an even vote ensured that theproposal remained unacted. Any member could choose to support, reject orabstain.Atpresent,weknewthatDissolutionhadthefirmsupportoffivemembersoftheCouncil:KleopatraArx, the InquisitorialRepresentative;UilaLamma, thePaternovalEnvoyof theNavigatorHouses;KaniaDhanda, theSpeakerof theChartists Captains; Merelda Pereth, the Lord High Admiral of the ImperialNavy;andtheoriginatorofitall,Kerapliades.Wealsoknewthatfivememberswould vote against: Oud Oudia Raskian of the Adeptus Mechanicus, IrthuHaemotalion,theMasteroftheAdministratumandtheprimusinterparesoftheCouncil; Baldo Slyst, the Ecclesiarch of the Adeptus Ministorum; AvelizaDrachmar, the Grand Provost Marshal of the Adeptus Arbites; and LeopsFranck,theMasteroftheAstronomican.Sothen,fivefor,fiveagainst.Oureffortsoverthepastweekshadbeendirectedto the sole undecided member – Fadix, the Grand Master of the OfficioAssassinorum. The assassins often abstained from votes, since their interestswere generally served nomatter what policieswere enacted by theirmasters.Fadix had always been an archetypal grand master – swathed in layers of
protection,hisdomainthehardestofalltopenetrate,andalongsideArxthemostperiloustocross.Wehadtriedcarefully,doingwhatwecouldtomakethecaseandsecuresomekindofindicationofpreference.Ifheoptedtooppose,thenallwas lost – the vote could not be passed. If he opted to support, then thingsbecame easier – the seat vacatedbyBrach could remainunfilled and the votewouldstillbecarried.Thatwouldmeanourattempts tomakecontactwith theCaptain-Generalbecamelesspressing,somethingthatIwouldhavewelcomed,forIwasstillnoclosertogaininganaudiencethere.‘Any news from the Grand Master?’ I asked, noting that we hadn’t had acommunicationfromouragentforsometime.Jekgavemeanapologeticlook,andhandedmeasmallcasket.I opened it, to find a comm-bead, speckled with blood, sitting on a bed ofcrumpledsilk. Ididn’tneed toactivate it toknowthat itwasoneofours.ThesilkwasFadix’s signature – they said that every kill hemadewas leftwith aribbonofitsomewherecloseby.Isigheddeeply.Ihadknownouragentthere–agoodandbravewomanwhohadoperatedundetectedforalongtime.‘Sothat’sthat,then,’Isaid,deflated.‘Notquite,’saidJek,motioningformetoclosethelidofthecasket.AsIdidso,Inoticedtheinscription,writteninoneof theCouncil’smanyinternalciphers,inlaidblackonblackandalmostundetectable.IlookedupatJek.‘Hewantstoseeme,’Isaid.‘Forwhat,though?’askedJek,warily.‘Hedoesn’ttakekindlytointerference,I’dsay.’‘Orhemeanstoenditforgood.’Itwouldbeaboldmove,foraCouncilmembertoextinguishoneofitsmoreprominent servants, but not impossible. They were beholden to no one butthemselves,andIhadalwaysknownIwaseminentlyreplaceable.‘Perhapswe’vepushedthingstoofar,’Imurmured.Jek hesitated before replying. Shewas themost loyal ofmymany aides-de-camp,andyetnowtherewastheslightesthintofreproach.‘Forgiveme, lord, if I don’t fully understand it,’ she said. ‘There have beenmanyproposals,andyetwiththisone…’Iknewwhatshewas trying tosay. Itwasamystery tome too,why thisoneideahadcapturedmyattentionsocompletely.Ihadbuiltacareeronplayingtheodds, remaining allieswith all, never letting a single issuederailme from thegreatergoalofefficiencyandself-preservation.
Ifshehadpressedme,IdonotknowwhatIcouldhavetoldher.Ididn’tevenfully understand the deeper legal aspects of Dissolution, which in its fullestsensewasawholerangeofmeasuresinvolvingtherepealofsomeoftheearliestactsoftheLexImperialisaslaiddownbythefirstLordCommander.Inpractice,though,weallknewwhatittrulymeant–theendofthestandinginjunctionthattiedtheAdeptusCustodestoTerra–althoughthishadneverbeensomethingthathadtaxedme,notuntilnow.Were the Custodians sorcerers, I wondered? Could Valerian have donesomethingtomymind?CouldKerapliadeshavedone?Ileanedonthedesk.Iprobablylookedtired.‘Youdonothavetogo,’Jeksaid,concernedforme.‘No,Idon’t,’Isaid.Thenshesmiled.‘Butyouwill.’‘Ofcourse.’Shereachedoutandplacedherhandovermine.Icouldn’thelpbutnoticehowyoungitwas,nexttomywrinkled,many-times-rejuvedflesh.‘Hewouldnotdaretoendyou,’shesaid.Thatwasakindthingtosay,andperhapssheevenbelievedit.I,though,knewbetter how the man worked. I was getting in too deep, as if past sins werecatchingupwithme.‘Iguesswe’llfindout,’Isaid,pullingmyhandaway.
Iwillnotdenyit–Iwasdiscomforted.Mynerveswereweakenedbytheheavyburden of care, and the sense of things running beyond our ability to controlthemneverwentaway.ButIgotintheshuttle,gavedirectionstothepilot,anddidwhatIhadto.Aswetookofffromthehighspireofmydomain,IsawthecityscapeofTerrarunawaybeforeus,crumblingandmagnificent,greyunderadarkeningsky.Someway to the north was the mountain-face of the Sanctum Imperialis itself,gloweringlikeadormantvolcano.Theurbantower-massstretchedoffineverydirection,tangledandoverbearing.Iconsideredthismynaturalhabitat,thoughIhadalwaysunderstooditsdanger.Harsterhadbeenrightinonesense–thiswasawarzone,albeitonewherethekillinghappenedsilently.Fadix’srealmwasalongtransitsouthoftheholyapex,lodgedupagainsttheinnersweepofthewallsthemselves.Aneophytewouldneverhaveknownthatthe place housed what it did – its facade looked no different from one of athousand Ecclesiarchy temples, blackened by old soot and bedecked with
dolorousangelsonpedimentsofgranite.Perhapsitwasalittledarkerthantherest,alittlemoresolidlymade.Forsomereasonitslintelsweredottedwithpsy-ravens, dozens of them, staring out with black augur-eyes over the vistas ofdecay.Nootheraircraftwentwithinakilometreofthatplace,warnedoffeitherby reputation or silent intuition. For the last fewmoments of the journeymyflyerwastheonlyoneintheair,alonelyspeckagainstthegiantterracesahead.Wedocked,andIwasgreetedinacavernous,dustyhallbyasingleattendant.Hewore a suit of black armour, close-fitting and tight-plated.Henever spokeand I never saw his face, whichwas hidden behind an eyeless vox-distortionmask.Iftherewereothermenialsorservitorspresent,theyremainedoutofview.Thewholeplacewascold,andheavywithgrimeandshadow. Itwasalmostaparody ofwhat the order stood for, perhaps put on as some kind of elaboratetheatre for their own amusement. Iwas perfectly aware, for instance, that thiswas only one ofmanyOfficioAssassinorum citadels. The true nexus of theiroperationswasunknowntoallbuttheGrandMasterhimself,andperhapsafewofhispeersintheCouncil.Aswepassedfurtherwithin,IsawiconsoftheOfficioAssassin orumsunkdeepintowallsofbrassandonyx.Thepassagewaysremainedquiet,almostdeathly,andIglimpsedgreatvaultsyawningoffoneithersideofusaswewalked,eachlinedwithobscurecabinetsandstrangesculptures.ItwasalongtimebeforewereachedtheGrandMaster’sownchambers.Oncethere, my guide melted away, going as silently as everything in that damnedmorgue, leaving me alone before a pair of copper-faced doors. They openedbeforeIhadachancetomove,sweepingsoundlesslyacrossadarkstonefloor.He was waiting for me inside, seated behind a long desk stacked high withparchment.Candlesburnedinironholders,scarcelyilluminatingtheroom.WhatlittleIcouldseewasexquisite–thickoilpaintingsinsootygiltframes,bronzesatopmahogany side tables. I could almost smell the age of it all. Some of itmighthavebeen there for thousandsofyears, someof itmighthavemade itswaytotheroomasaresultofthecontractscarriedoutagainstpowerfulfiguresacrosstheImperium.Ihadnothearditsaidthattheassassinsweremorecorruptthantherestofus,buttherehadneverbeenmuchofficialdisapprovalattachedtotheaccumulationofsuitablecompensationforservicesrendered.Andtherehadbeen,afterall,somanyofthoseservices.He did not rise. I carriedmyself as confidently as I could. I had a profoundsensationofbeingwatchedfromallsides,andresistedtheurgetolookaround
meintothegloom.‘Bewelcome,chancellor,’hesaid.Fadixwas as cadaverous ashisprofessiondemanded.Hisheadwas lean, hiseyesasblackas thepsy-ravens that stoodguardoverhishalls.Hewore looserobes–silk,ofcourse–thatglistenedlikeoilintheflickeringlight.Evenseated,therewassomethinginhisposturethatgaveawaytheextremeconditioninghehadalways livedhis lifeunder. Iwondered then, as Ihaddonewhenmeetinghimbefore,whichTemplehehadoriginallyservedin.HewassurelynotoneoftheEversormonsters–theywereruinedbytheiruniqueregimen–andIdonotthink a Culexus could have been restored either. That still left plenty ofpossibilities.‘Yourmessagewasperfectlyeloquent,’Isaid.‘Itwasnothingpersonal.Idislikebeingobservedtooclosely,byyouoranyoneelse.’‘IdowhatImust.’‘Butyoudonotsufferforit.Shedid.’Iresistedthesuddenurgetoswallow.Therewasnoovertmaliceinhiswords,justachillinglackofintonation.Thismankilledlikeanothermanbreathes.‘Iregretthatgreatly,’Isaid,honestlyenough.‘Maybeyoudo.’Fadixleanedforwardsalittle,andthesilkdrapesshifted.‘Butyou’re taking a peculiar interest in this matter. I’ve never known you tooverreachbefore.’Itwasalltrue,sotherewaslittlepointdenyingit.‘IactonthedemandsoftheCouncil,’Isaid.‘In the beginning,maybe,’ Fadix said. ‘But you’re notKerapliades’ creature.Unlesshe’sboughtyounow,whichmightnothavebeenawisemoveforeitherofyou.’Igrewimpatient. ‘This isTerra,mylord,’Isaid.‘Eventhestatueswatchoneanother.’Despitemylongexperience,IwaslettingtheGrandMasterget tome.If thatcountedassomekindofvictoryforhim,hegavenooutwardsignofsatisfaction.Hisexpressionneverseemedtochange.‘Nodoubt,’hesaid.‘Andnowyouhaveyourdateforcamera inferiorset,andall of us lining up to do your bidding.And yet this time is different.You aredoingmorethanarrangingtimesandplaces.You’regatheringinformationasifitwerefoodforastarvingman.Theytellmecoinhaschangedhandsinquantitiesnot seen foryears.You’vebeencareful tohide thesources,butyou’renot the
onlyonetohavespies.’Ibegantoreply,tomakethestandarddefenceofmyindependence,butheheldupathinhand,andmylipsclosed.Hisfingernailswerelong,carefullyfiledintoperfectlysmoothellipses.‘You want a certain result,’ Fadix said. ‘You’re no longer impartial. Thatintriguesme.Icouldshatteryourgamewithasinglechoice,forItooknowhowtheCouncilstands.IfIvotedagainstyourmotionitwoulddie.I’mquiteusedtokillingthings.’‘Youarebound,lord,tovoteintheinterestsoftheImperium.’Fadixsmileddryly.‘I’vedonemorefortheImperiumthanyou’lleverknow,’hesaid,andhisteethglintedlikeburnishedironinthedark.‘I’vesentmysonsanddaughtersintothehellofCadia,andalmostnonereturn.Foreverytargetweeliminate, we lose twice that number of priceless operatives. Do I thinkDissolutionwouldchangethat?’‘Thatisthematterbeforeyou.’Heshrugged.‘Forme,Ihavenoview.Icarelittleforlaws,onlythattheybindmyhands.Supposeyou release theCustodians from theirvigilhere.Theysaytherearetenthousandof them.Theenemynumbersinthebillions.Alionisapoorhuntertosetagainstsomanyjackals.’I rememberedHarster’sbleakface then.There’s strength in the universeevengreaterthantheirs.‘The same argument applies to the Angels of Death,’ I said. ‘We’ve alwaysneededelites.’‘Andsowehavethem.’Fadixreachedfortheleafofparchmentbeforehimandbrandishedit.Icouldseereamsofclose-scrawledtext,stampedandrestampedwiththegreatsealsoftheAdeptusTerra.‘Thisisthewarrant,undertheLex,foranEversortobeunleashed.Ithastakentwoyearstosecure.Thisnight,itwillbeactivated, and the stasis podwill be launched into the void. It is the deadliestweaponinmyarsenal,honedovertenthousandyearsofexperience.Itwillkillandkilluntilitreachesitstarget.Itwillcauseterrortosetagainstterror.Whathave theCustodians done to prepare themselves for such fighting, save patrolthesewallsandpolishtheirspears?’Iknewthattheyhaddonefarmorethanthat.IguessedthatFadixknewtoo,butthepointwasstillwellmade.‘Ifyoumeantooppose,’Isaid, feelingthatIhadcomehereatsuchpersonalriskonlytoseemyendeavourthwarted,‘thenyouarewithinyourrights.’‘Hah.IfIwishedtowoundyouthatway,itwouldhavebeensweetertodoitat
theCouncil, andwatchyourhopescrumpleat themomentofcompletion.’Hereplacedtheparchmentlightly.Everyoneofthosesheetswasawarrantforthedeathofsomeproscribedsoul,andheshuffledthemlikeabankershufflesnotesof promise. ‘No, I have inmind a subtler punishment for you. I knowyou’vealready spoken to theAdeptusCustodes.Youdonotwish to return to them. Iwouldnotwishtoreturntothemeither,andyetyouwillhaveto,forIplantoabstain.Andyouunderstandwhatthatmeans.’Idid. Ifhewere telling the truth, thevoteswould remained tiedat fiveeach.Thetwelfthplacewouldhavetobefilledinordertobreakthedeadlock.Iwouldhaveto,somehow,speaktotheCaptain-General.I could see now what Fadix had done. My interest in the result had beenuncovered. Going anywhere near the Custodians would be dangerous for menow,andyetdoingnothing risked thechanceslippingaway. Icouldpursue it,butitendangeredeverythingIhadstriventobuildovereightyyears.Thematterhadalwaysbeendelicate.Nowithadbecomeperilous.‘I do not yet know the intentions of theAdeptusCustodes,’ I said, almost tomyself.Fadixplacedhishandsonthetabletop,foldedneatly,sheathedincuffsofpurestsilk.‘Then,chancellor,’hesaid,bringingtheinterviewtoitsterminus,‘ifyouvalueyourreputation,andcareanythingforthisprojectofyourCouncilallies,Ithinkyouhadbetterfindout.’
VALERIAN
I ran down the long corridor. I was deep within the Inner Palace, where theground itself was hallowed. The high vaulted roof was hung with battle-standards,hundredsofthem,allstiffwithage.Tallwindowsletapoorlightslipacrosstheflags,etchingsilveracrossskull-facedgargoyles.Myguardianspear,Gnosis,crackledinmygrip.Icouldfeelmyheartthumpingsteadily,mylungsworking,mybloodcoursing.Myarmourswamwithlinesofstaticelectricity,feedingthinlinesofenergyfromthesnarlingblade.Iwaslikeastarinthevoid.He was ahead. I could smell him now. This enemy was not one forconcealment–hehadbeenbuilt to levelwalls,andnowhewasinsidethem.Ihadfewillusionsoverwhathewascapableof–forallthatourcultivationwasinmany respects superior to that of the oldLegionesAstartes, theywere stillamongourdeadliest foesandquitecapableofdefeatingoneofus if sufficientcarewerenot taken.TheLongWarhadgiven themmanydarkgifts,ones thatwehadtolearnaboutandcounter.Iwonderedoftenifweevensurpassedourbrothersofoldnow,theoneswhohad worn the crimson-and-gold, for we had had so many more centuries tounderstandthenatureoftheenemywefought.Thatwasnodoubtprideful,andprobablyinaccurate,butstillthethoughtoftencametome.Iroundedthecorneratspeed,andsawmyquarry.Hewasstillrunning,goingfaster thanhisgunmetal-heavyarmourwouldhavesuggestedwaspossible.Hemighthavebeenmakingforoneof thepulpitshigherup,hoping to findsomevantagefromwhichtolaunchadefence,butmypursuithadbeentooswift.
I opened upGnosis’ bolter, catchingmy enemy on the shoulder and sendinghimcrashingtotheground.Aboveusboth,bannersswayedheavily,caughtbythebackwashfromtheexplosion.Iracedafterhim,watchinghimtwistbacktohisfeet.Hewasamassivebrute,crustedwithridgedandtarnishedbattleplate.Hishelm-lensesglowedadullred,likemagma,andhecarriedatwo-handedwarhammer.Thestenchofenginefuelhungoverhim.Hemighthaveevenapproachedmyownsize,myweight,mystrength– suchwere the perversions thewarphadwrought on thosewhohadonceservedtheThrone.Weslammedtogether,andtheimpactrippledthestonearoundus.Ourweaponscrunched into a brace-lock, showering plasma over both of us. I swung away,hilt-first, and smashed him back a pace. He shoved back, aiming to ram thefizzinghammerheadintomychest.Henearlyconnected.Ijudgedhisweaponwaswithinafewmicrosecondsofanimpactthatwouldhavecrackedmyauramitebreastplate.Thatinterval,however,wascomfortablysufficient tospinmybladeoverinmygrip,ramthespeartipintotheTraitor’sgorgetandfireatpoint-blankrange.Thebolt-shellexplodedinstantly,blastinghisheadapartinashowerofblownmetal-shreds.Hiswarhammerspunoutofcontrol,hislimbsjerkedapartandthemomentumofmydown-thrustsenthisheadlesscorpsecrashingtotheground.I stood over him for a moment longer, breathing heavily, my spear grippedloosely.Blood, viscous as sump-oil, oozed from the rotten stumpof his neck.Hismetalfingerstwitched.Theaegisofforcearoundhiswarhammerflickeredout.Slowly,carefully, I relaxed.Thekillhadbeenclean,withnodamage taken. Iwasnotsatisfiedwithhowfarthisonehadpenetrated,though.Onanotherrun,Iwouldhavehopedtohavedownedhimfurtherout.IfeltnoparticularemotionasIstudiedthebody.IunderstoodthatmycousinsintheAdeptusAstartesreservedanalmostpathologicalhatredfortheirTraitorcounterparts.Iwonderedifthatmadethemmoreorlesseffectiveonthefieldofbattle. Tome, the survivingmembers of the Old Legions were like bands ofanimals– feral threats to theThrone that requiredculling. I feltnodiscernibledifference in my response to them than that I had experienced when huntingxenotypetyranidsandeldarinthesesametunnels–theywerealldangerous,allworthyofstudy,butunworthyofexpendingemotionalenergyupon.I deactivatedGnosis’ energy field and stood back from the corpse. In a fewmoments,Palacemenialswouldcatchupandsecurethebody.Everyatomofit
wouldbedestroyedinfurnaceswatchedoverbysanctionedpriests.Forthetimebeing,though,itwouldlieinthedust,ruinedandbroken,justassomanyofhiskinhaddonetenthousandyearsbefore.In case you are in any doubt, let me make two things clear. This was nohololith–wewereintherealPalace.Thiswasalsoareallegionary,onceoftheIVLegion,latterlypartofsomewarbandoperatingintheOphirReach,sotheytoldme.Thatknowledgemayappalyou,orperhapsstrikeyouasludicrous.Howcouldweallowsuchamonstertogetsoclosetothecentreofourpower,theonesiteweweresworntodefendaboveallelse?I rememberwhen I discovered thenatureof thisparticularBloodGame, andhad similar thoughts myself. And yet, recall that the Palace is the size of acontinent, with many sections lost to habitation, and so we have literallyhundredsof squarekilometres inwhich to stageour exercises. If I had let thecreatureescapethehunt,itwouldhavebeenamarkofshameagainstmyrecord,but several hundredgun-servitorswouldhave annihilatedhimbeforehe couldhavebrokenthecordonwehadset.And, of course, not one of themhas ever escapedmyhunt. I say that not toboast,buttodemonstrateboththewisdomandthenecessityoftheseexercises.Wemust fight real enemies, in the real environmentwe are pledged to guard.Theychange,asthecorruptingyearsworktheirspell,andsomustwe.Thatleavesthequestionofhowhecametobehereatall.Remember,Itoldyouthatwearenotidle.Wehaveourships,andwehaveknowledgeofmanygatesinto theOutside,andwehavewholecorpsdevoted to the recoveryof suitablesubjects. As for the particular place this one was taken, that shall of courseremainundisclosed.IshookthebloodfromGnosis’blade,andwithdrewfromthesiteofthekill.AsI did so, I suddenly sensed that I was not alone. I turned, and saw theapproachingdark-goldprofileofNavradaranoftheEphoroi.Ismiled.‘Wereyouclosebehindthewholetime?’Iasked.‘Justtoobserve,’hereplied.Navradaran’svoicewasfarlowerthanmine,abassrumblethatseemedtoswellupfromwithintheheartofhisarmour.‘Hegottoofar,’Isaid.‘Onlyjudgedagainstthestandardofperfection,’hesaid.‘Whatotherstandardisthere?’‘Comebeyondthewallswithmeoneday,’hesaid.‘Iwillshowyou.’
Wewalked together. Lingering close to the corrupted corpsewas distasteful,and I could already hear the clatter and rumble of the approaching disposalteams.‘Thenwhatbringsyouinside,brother?’Iasked.‘Dreams,’hesaid.Istoppedwalking.Thewordalonewasenoughtohaltme.Dreamsdonotmeanthesametousastheydotoothers.Inordinarylife,wedonotdreamatall.IfIeverdreamedasachild,Ihaveforgottenit.Somethinginourmindsischangedbywhatwebecome,andwhateverpurposedreaminghasforthemortalpsycheismaderedundantbyouralteration.But there are exceptions. Legendary ones. They are spoken of carefully,reverently, for itwas in the formofdreams, longago, thatHiswillwasmademost clearly manifest to us. There are accounts, written in arcane script andburied in thedeepestvaultsof the InnerPalace, that tell ofdetailed testimonyfrom the oldest of our order, now all long dead. The greatest of us all –DiocletianExemplar, Thanassar, evenValdor himself –were said to have haddreamsinwhichknowledgewasgiven.Therehavenotbeendreamsformillennia.Many,includingmyself,hadbeguntodoubtthattheywouldevercomeagain.‘Whatdidtheytellyou?’Iasked,eagerly.‘Thedreamswerenotmine.Ihavebeenoccupiedwithlesserthings–witches,xenos and their hunters.TheywereHeracleon’s.Hewished to speakwithmeaboutthem.’ThetribuneHeracleonwasstillwithin the innersanctum,fullyoccupiedwiththehieraticdutiesthatwerethemostsacredcallingforusall.‘Andwhatdidhedreamof?’Ipressed.Ifoundmyselfburningtoknow,withthekindofalmost juvenilecuriosity that shouldhavebeendrivenoutofmealongtimeago.‘You have been a fine shield-captain, Valerian,’ Navradaran said, starting towalkagain.‘Youmusthaveconsideredwhereyourfatewouldleadyou.’‘IserveatHiswill,’Isaid,followingclosebehind.‘Noonedoubtsit.Butthisisatimeofchange–youseethatmoreclearlyontheotherside.’‘Youspeakinriddles.’Navradaran laughed. ‘Youwish for itplainly?Heracleondreamedofaname.Yourname.TheHataeronGuardaredepleted,andhehas taken thisasa sign.Havingspokentohimmyself,Iaminagreement.’
Thewordsmademypulseratepickup.TheCompanionswerenevermorethanthreehundredstrong.Itwasthehighest honourtobechosenfordutywithinthatbrotherhood. Therewould be sacrifice, of course – Iwould have to leavemypreciousbooksbehind–butthatcountedasnothingbesidestheopportunitytoserveinthemostprofoundwayimaginable.I hardly knew what to say. Only a short time ago I had been dealing withmattersofpoliticalprotocolwithshort-livedmortalscuttlersoftheHighLords’hierarchy.Now the prospect of takingmy place behind the EternityGate andnever leaving, spending the remainder of my life in the radiant aegis of Hisimmanentpresence,roseupinstead.‘Asurprise?’Navradaranasked,lookingwrylyamusedatmystupefaction.‘Youmightsayit.’Iattemptedtocollectmyself.‘Hehasmentionednothingtomeofthis.’Navradaranplacedhishandonmyarm,haltingme.‘Thatiswhyhesentmetofindyou,’hesaid.‘Come,theThroneawaits.’
TheThrone.Such a simpleword, used across everyworld of the Imperium as a curse, ablessing, a vow or a mere preposition. Almost none of those who invoked itknew anything about it. They imagined a simple golden chair, I suppose, likesomething a princeling of a barbarian world might occupy. They imagined achamber around it, glittering with the riches of our interstellar domain, andmaybecourtiersdriftingacrossfinefloors,murmuringtooneanotherabouthighmattersofstate.Icannotblamethemfortheirlackofimagination.Theyaretaughtwhattothinkbythepriests,and the imagedoesnoharmandsomegood.Theycanfix theirmindson it in timesofdarkness, and their faith in its powermay stiffen theirresolve.Thatdoesnotpreventthemfrombeingsoverybadlywrong.Whateveritmightoncehavebeen,theThroneisnolongera singleobject,norisithousedinasingleroom.ItsmechanismsspreadoutlikerootsthroughouttheentireInnerPalace,wormingdownintotheforgottencryptsandclimbingupintothe highest peaks. Its power coils are the size of cities, its foundations theremademountains themselves.Theadeptsof theMechanicuswho toilwithoutrest to maintain its workings have added so many accretions over its tenmillenniaoflifethattheplanetaroundithasbeenutterlychanged–boredaway,grounddownandraisedupagain.You might say that Terra itself is little more than a holding vessel for the
Throne.Certainly,ifonetakesthemightypsionictransmissionconduitsleadingtotheFortressoftheAstronomicanaspartofitsstructure–whichwouldbeareasonablejudgement–thentheThrone’smechanismisfarmoremassivethantheOuter Palace itself. It iswoven into thestrataof theplanet likean internalorgan, pulsing and arterial. In truth, I doubt that any living soul, save the onewhoordereditsconstructionanddwellsatitsheart,hasanytrueunderstandingofitsfullextent.And yet, the unschooledmen andwomen of the Imperium are notwrong ineveryparticular.Therewasoncearoomattheheartofitall–vastenough,tobesure, but a room nonetheless. It has not entirely disappeared, though its innerfacesarenowscoredwiththedetritusofMarsanditsrootshavebeenreplacedbypitsclawedintotheheartoftheworld.Theairinthatplaceishardtobreathe.The temperature is astonishing.Theground trembles, and the vaults ringwiththe grind of immense machines that have been in ceaseless operation formillennia.Itishardformetoconveywhatitisliketobethere.Ihavewalkedthroughitshallsanditsvaults,surroundedonallsidesbytheholiestofallhumanphysicalcreations, andhavebeenbroughtnigh tomykneesby themagnitudeof it all.SaveforthegreatestsavantsoftheRedPlanet,whoarehumanonlyinthemostnominal sense, onlywe pass through its portals. There used to be others, thesilentdaughtersoftheanathemapsykana,butformanyyearstheyhadnotbeenfullypartoftheAdeptusTerraanddidnotcomeintotheprecinctsastheyoncehaddone.So only we remained, clad in the black of our penance, stalking among thesnakingcablesandclusteredpowerlines, listeningforanyslightchangein theheartbeatofthemachinethatsurroundedus,lostinitsburnishedshadows.NavradaranandIwentswiftly,walkingthelongandwindingstairsdowntothedeepestoperationallevels.Foralongtimetheonlywitnesseswehadwerered-eyedMartianautomata,scrabblinginthedark,tracingritualroutesthroughthemazesandmumblingwordsofforgottenprocess-languages.I lookedupbriefly,andsawachildlikeangel flapacross thefaceof thehigharches,leakingamessytrailofincense.Thecreaturelookedvaguelylost.Myheartwasstillbeatingfast.Ihadbeentold,alongtimeago,thateventheSpaceMarinesfearedthisplace.Everythinglivingfearedthisplace.Itwassaidthathumanitycouldnotbear tobeclose to the sourceofboth itscreationanddestruction,andsowewerelikemothstothecandlehere,burningourselvesasweapproachedtheengineofsouls.
I saw a cadre ofMechanicusmagi processing across a walkway hundred ofmetresaboveus, theirpassage litby thecandle-likeflickerofarc-welders.Wekeptmoving,glidingdeeperintotheunderworld.In timewecame to theAstralGate,markedwith theEmperor’sownoriginalthunderboltsigiloverthelintel.ThefirstoftheHataeronGuardwerewaitingforustherewiththeirguardianspearsinhand.ThetribuneHeracleonstoodamongthem,hishelmremovedtorevealhissevere,bluntface.‘Tribune,’Iacknowledged.Helookedatmeforalongtime.‘Shield-captain,’hesaid.‘Navradarantoldyoueverything?’‘Hesaidyouhadbeendreaming.’‘Itseemed…therightwordtouse,’hesaid.Ilookedbeyondhim,throughtheportalandintotheheartoftheThrone’sinnerworkings.Alongcorridorranonwards,ridgedwithbandsofiron,glintingfromtinylumensimplantedinthemetal.Thefloorwaslostinanankle-deepsoupofcondensation,andslendersparksofstaticdancedacrosstheserrations.‘Iamnottheonlyone,’Heracleonsaid.‘Allofushere,littlebylittle,wehavebeguntoseethings.’‘Youarehonoured.’‘Iftheyaretruevisions.ButtheThroneisnotwhatitwas.’Evenashespoke, I sawahissofsteamburst fromanoverheadcoolant line,highupinthetangledheights.Immediatelyalittleskull-dronesweptuptowardsit,isolatingtheleakandhoveringbelowit,dendritesflickering.‘Asyousee,’Heracleonremarked,dryly.‘Come,thisway.’WepassedundertheGate’sarch.Theguardsremainedattheportal,leavingthethreeofustomakeourwayfurtherin.‘Ihadlittleideayouwereconsideringmeforthis,tribune,’Isaid.‘NeitherdidI.Therewereothernamesaheadofyours.’Heracleonlookedoveratme.‘Imeannodisrespect.Therearemanyrolestofillonthewallstoo.’‘Formyself,Ididnotforeseemyfatehere.Notyet.’‘No.Butthenweliveinanageofsurprises,dowenot?’Attheterminusofthelongcorridor,weemergedoutontothefloorofacolossalhemisphere,filledwithglowingpowerexchangers.Theairitselfthrummedwithelectric force, and mighty beams of plasma danced above us, making thereflectivemetalofthemachineryflashvividly.‘Therewillbetrials,’Isaid.‘Ofcourse,’Heracleonsaid.‘Manyofthem.Butthisisthefirsttest.’
Fromthechamberof light,wecrossedoverasingle-spanbridgeflungoveracloudy gulf that seemed to go down forever. The noises became heavier anddeeper, and I felt the torment of the earth below. It was forever cracking, Iknew – prised apart by the forces barely contained within the Martiangroundworkofburiediron.Onthefarsideofthechasmsoaredawall,entirelyman-made,adizzyingpatchworkofpipesandrivetedpanels.Ancientstandardshung against the ticking dials and shackled vacuum-pods, most etched withbinariclitanies,afewinkedwithHighGothicpurityrotes.ThenextportalwasguardedbytwoContemptor-GalatusVeneratedFallen,bothstaticandsilentintheflickeringgloom.Theydidn’tmoveaswepassedthemby,theirarmouredhelmsgazingineternalvigiloutintotheshadows.Thereweremoregates,morechambers,allpassinginstatelyprocessionaswewoundourway inwards.Somewerevast,burningwithshackledstar-firesandpulsatinglikehearts;otherswerefrigid,grave-likeandlinedwithcrystalfusionvanes.Mostwereemptyoftheliving.Afewheldconclavesofred-robedmagiporing over open workings while tech-savants whispered sequence-prayers totheOmnissiah,thoughtheypaidusnoheed.Eventuallywecametotheheartofit.Companionswerewaitingforus,twelveof them.Thegoldof theirauramitewasblackened,as ifcharredbyfire. Ihadheard thatproximity to the sourcedid that, turningourpride into ashes. I hadalwaysthoughtthesymbolismappropriate.The door ahead of us was the largest yet, a gothic arch of banded basaltcolumns. Electricity snapped and fizzed openly through the air now, brieflydazzling in the otherwise near-black interior. Over the Last Door, carved inArchaicGothic,weretheancientwordsConservus,Restituere,Revivicarem.Duringthejourney,Ihadbeenfeelingsteadilymoreoppressed.Itwasnotthemonolithicarchitecture,forIhadventuredalmostasfaronpreviousoccasions.Likeallmyorder,IknewthetwistingwaysoftheInnerPalaceperfectly.Icouldnotplace the sourceofmyunease, but it hadgrownwith every step, and thattroubledme.Now, poised on the threshold of the final gate, I could feel cold sweat-linesrunningdownmyneck.Mybloodwaspumpinginmytemples.‘TheHataeronarewiththeEmperor,’saidHeracleon,speakingthewordsasiftheyweresomeriteofascension.‘TheyaloneseeHimwithmortaleyes.Onceinductedintothebrotherhood,theyneverleaveHisside.’I understood that. I had known it from the very beginning. Such a sacrificewouldhavebeenworthitathousandtimesjustforthecertaintythatitwasHis
desireformetoservethere.But I felt nauseous. The air was thick, shimmering with heat and psychicafterburn.Theverystoneswereswimminginit,blazingwithit.Foramoment,itfeltasiftheywerescreamingatme.‘Brother?’askedHeracleon.‘Doyouhear?’Inodded,workinghardtoremainfocused.Thiswasallpartofthefirsttrial.Ihadtoremaincalm.Ifitwerenotdifficulttopassthethreshold,thenallmightdoit.‘Andsothefirststepisthegreatest,’thetribunewenton.‘Takeit,andwitnessthemostprofoundsphereofduty.’TheCompanionsparted.Foramoment,IsawtheLastDooraheadofme.Itssurfacewas black and pitted, fused together from old ceramite. In the centre,where the twodoorsmet,anebonfacehadbeencarved. Itwasahumanface,austere,mournful,encircledwithahalooffire.Then the image split in two, and the doors swung inwards. I saw what laybeyond–ranksofpillars,marchingintoamist-thickdistance.Isawtheenergy-feeders,eachonethesizeofaTitan,hangingfromthestalactitesoftheunseenroof.Isawthepowerlines,ribbedandmassive,coiledacrosseverysurfacelikeengorgedserpents.Theairwasgolden,thickasmilk,spillingoutofthedoorwaylikeatarnishedsunrise.Throughthehaze,theswimmingmotesofpower,Ilaideyesonthenexusitself.Itwashardtogaugesizeinthere–everythingshookinaheat-tremorofpsychicintensity.Isawimpossiblyoldpanels,flutedlikeorganpipes,risingupandupthrough the mist, webbed with patina and repeatedly repaired. I saw arcs oflightning snap and twist, and blood-cyclers wheezing, and smelt a pervasivestenchassweetasrottingmeat.And somewhere in the heart of that titanic construction, somewhere in themidstofthestackedterracesandthebaroqueplatformsandthegantriesandtheforests of cabling, lost like a pearl in the heart of some obscene mechanicalclamshell,Iglimpsedjustaslipofflesh,ashredofhairlessgrey,perhapsascalp,perhaps the fragmentof a face, buriedunder it all, slaved to it, dominating it,dominatingeverything.Itriedtotakeastep,tomovethroughthegate,andfelttheairshimmeragainstme.Ilostthevision.Thegoldbledoutoftheair,andIfeltmyfocusshatter.‘Takethestep,’saidHeracleon.Icouldn’tmove.Mymindinstructedmybody,butitdidn’tobey.Everyattempt
topass thatdoorway resulted in thesamedreadfulpressure. I ragedagainst it,bringingallmystrength tobear,but itwas like trying to forcemyself throughstone.Iwithdrew,andthepressurerelented.IcouldseeHeracleonlookingatmequizzically.‘Youdonotobey,’hesaid.I turned shakily to face the tribune, having to concentrate just to keep myfooting. I felt drained and humiliated, and could not hope formy brothers tounderstand it. I was not accustomed to failure, but therewas noway I couldcrossthatthreshold.‘I…cannot,’Isaid,whichwasjustaboutallIcouldgetout.ThenIturnedmybackontheThrone,foraslongasIhadlivedtheobjectofallmydevotion,andstumbledbackoutintothedark.
ALEYA
Icametoolate.Inallthathappenedafterwards,thebloodandthefolly,Ithinkthatremainsthehardestburdentobear.Ihadasenseofitfromalongwayout.I’dtakentheinterceptorbackupintothe hull ofmy transport, theCadamara, and ordered the captain tomake fullhaste back toArraissa. It had been a bad journey, as they allwere now,withseveral drops back into real space to avoid theNavigators losing their limitedgriponreality.I seethed the whole time. There was nothing more frustrating than knowingsomethingbadhadbeenunleashedandbeingpreventedfromintervening.Itwasjustaword,hissedfromthemouthofadeceiver,butmysoulknewittobetrue.Isay‘mysoul’,butofcourseI’mspeakingfiguratively.Westillhadhunches.By the timewe finallyarrived intoArraissa’s system limit, allmy fearswereswiftly confirmed. The beacons were gone, smashed into a belt of spinningmetal. Just out from theMandeville pointwe encountered the corpses of twoNavymonitors.Itlookedlikethey’dgotafewshotsawaybeforetheendcame,butnotmuchmorethanthat.Takeusstraightin,Iorderedinbattle-sign,standingonthebridgenexttothecaptain.Fullburn.Thecrewdidnothesitatetocomply.WewererelativelylightlyarmedbyNavalstandards,andthusrunningaterriblerisk,butiftherewasanychanceofarrivingintimethenwehadtotakeit.Arriving at a planet after a void-raid is always a strange experience. Unlesssomethingtrulyapocalyptichasoccurred,there’sneveranysignoftroublefrom
theaugurs–aworld,eventhesmallest,isjusttoovasttoshowsignsofpinpointattack.Arraissawasnodifferent–itlookedjustasIalwaysremembereditfromahundredhomecomings,pearl-whiteandbandedwithdriftingcloudbanks.The orbital defences, though, were gone. Tumbling fragments circled like aplanetary ring, blasted dark. There were more empty ship hulls drifting, allpowered-down.MostwerethekindofthingsI’dhaveexpectedtosee–tradingbarges,landersandlifters,afewvoid-capablezeta-gradehaulers.ThereshouldhavebeenNavyshipstheretoo,adozenofthem,buttherewasnosign,notevenwrecks.‘Doyouwantustoholdanchor,lord?’CaptainErefanaskedquietly.No,Ididnot.Igavehimaquickflurryofbattle-signorders,thenwentdowntothehangarstofindtheinterceptor.Justasbefore,Iwentalone.Therewasnouseinriskingtheirlivesontheground,andinanycaseIwantedtheCadamaratoscanthesystemforanyhostilesstillremaining.Itlookedlikewe’dcomefartoolatetoplayanymeaningfulpart,butyouneverknewwhatfoulnessmightlinger.Iwasfeelingsickbythen,mostlyfromfrustrationandfear–notformyself,butfor those who manned the convent walls. There was nothing else of militaryvalue on the planet, nothing else that might have drawn the attention of theEnemy.ThatwaswhyHestiahadchosenit,carefullykeepingusawayfromtherovingeyesofbothImperialandotherauthorities.I tookmy place in the Cull, watched the hangar bay doors creak open, andpowered the ship out into the void. I pushed it hard down through theatmosphere,making the forward viewers roar with fire. As the superstructureshook,Ipushedtheshipharder,takingalittlesourpleasureinhurtingit.Thathadalwaysbeenmyweakness–adesireforviolencethatranbeyondtherighteous.At that point, though, I could hardly admonishmyself for it. Iwasworried, and keyed for battle, and increasingly sure I had missed out on theaction.AsIplungedbeneath thecloudsand levelledoutoverNovionUrbanPrimus,the damage became clear at last. Six of the great hiveswere on fire, sendingsmokeboilingoutofrentsintheirsides.Theurbanlowlandbetweenthemwasalso burning, punched through as if by massive bullet holes. Flyers wereeverywhere,swarminglikeangryandimpotentwasps.Myconsoleflashedwithalerts asongoingactivity– fighting?–waspickedup,but I carednothing forthose signals. Idrove theCull steeply,notbothering tohidemyapproachas Iwouldnormallyhavedone.AsInearedmydestinationIcouldseethepallsofinkysmokerising,thickerandmoreconcentratedthananywhereelse.
OurconventwashousedinwhatpassedforaregularEcclesiarchybasilica.TheoccupantslookedlikepriestsorMinistorummenials;theSisterhoodcouldeasilybe mistaken for a minor order of the Adepta Sororitas. Anyone looking toocloselymighthavenoticedthatwewerenothingofthesort,andthatweneverhadvisitations from the truediocesanauthorities,butHestiahadalwaysmadesure no one looked too closely.We paid the tithes and bribes we needed to,cultivatedtherightmembersoftheplanetaryArbitesfortresses,andpursuedourtruevocationunderacloakofsemi-obscurity.Now, though, the entire grid had been levelled.Whole hab-towers had beendemolished, their outer structures slumped into scorched piles of scree. As IwounddowntheenginestolandIcouldheartherumbleofongoingdestruction,lacedwith thescreamsof thousands.Theair itselfwasblackdownhere, thickwithtatteredashes.Ipulledintotheruinedhangar,itsblastdoorsmeltedaway,cutthepowerandleaptfromtheCull’scockpit.The interiorwascharred,andbodiesofservitorsandmenials littered the apron. All the ships that had stood here before weregone,lootedjustasArraissa’sstandingNavaldetachmentmusthavebeen.I ran inside, leaping over the corpses, my flamer primed and ready. Thecorridorswerethickwithmoreruin–bodiesthrownagainstthewalls,doorwaysdemolished,librariesransackedandstillsmouldering.Ibegantothinkthattherewouldbenothingleft.Iracedtowardsthecommandnexus,burieddeepunder thefalseMinistorumshell.Thewholeplacestankofblood and burning. I pushed through broken doors, expecting just the samescenesofdestruction,andfoundacreatureofOuterHellwaitingforme.Ihavenoideawhythisonewasstillthere.Itscomradeswerelonggone,fledback into thewarp aswas their habit, but one remained. Perhaps it had beenintended as a sentinel to guard againstmy return, or perhaps they had foughtamong themselves in their base fashion and left one of their number as somekindofpunishmentforweakness.Icarednot. Itwas there,aheadofme,hunchedover thecorpseofoneofmyprecioussisters,itsclawsrunningwithherblood.Itwasmassive.Itsblackarmourwasthickandether-pitted,inscribedwithcurlsand spikes of gold over a matt-black base. It breathed like a beast breathes,condensationspillingfromitsornatevox-grille. Inonehandithelditsprey, inanotheraspatteredchainsword.IwasscreamingasIchargedit–inwardly,ofcourse,butthescreamswererealenough. I leapt highbefore itwas even awareofme,my flamerbursting into
life.It turned at the last moment, and we crashed together. My momentum wasvicious,but itwasasheavyasa tankandjustasdeadly.Ipunchedat itshelmthroughmyflames,takingsavagesatisfactioninitsroarofsurprise.Then the chainsword geared up, swinging throatily through the fire. I pulledaway,emptyingmyflamerintoitsfaceasitlumberedcloser,slashingwildly.Itsmovements were as fast as mine, though much heavier. I could smell thecorruptionspillingfromit,thelong-wearingcorrosionofitswarp-soakedhome.Itwasbadlywounded,alonggashdownoneflank,whichperhapsexplaineditsexilehere.‘Anathema,’itcroaked,swingingatme.Atleastitknewwhatitwasfighting.Thelongerthiswenton,themorelikelyitwasIwoulddie.Mypurposewastoblunttheshedim,theapparitionsofdreams,notthephysicalservantsofEnemy.Despiteitswounds,itwasstrongerthanIwas,builtforthiskindoffight,andithadalreadyendedscoresofmysistersintheirowncitadel.ButIwasenraged.Iwasnear-blindwithit.Anditmademestronger.I shoved the flamer into its outstretched chainsword, and the whirring teethcaught fire and spiralledmadly. Then Iwas ducking under the flailing attack,usingmysizeandspeedandreachingformyrondeldagger.Ipushedup,two-handed,drivingthetipintothecreature’sjawline.Thetippierced,andIdroveitindeep.Bloodasblackaspitchsloppedoveritsgorget,anditcaughtmeinabear-hug,crushingmeagainstit.I felt it squeeze, and my armour flexed. The stench made me gag, and Istruggledtobreathe.AllthewhileIpressedthedaggerhome,twisting,churningthrough flesh and bone. I felt something burst, and a cascade of stinking pusstreamedoverbothofus.Itcrushedmefurther,andIheardthefirstcrackinmybreastplate.Wewereface-to-face.Iwaslookingintoitsfilmyhelm-lenses.JustbelowthesurfaceofthatgrotesquearmourIknewthataonce-humanwaslookingbackatme,matchingmyhatredwithitsown.Thepressuregrewworse.Itwascrushingmetodeath.I was losing consciousness. I screwed my eyes closed, gathered all myremainingstrength,andpushedupwards.Itsvox-grilleshattered,andIpropelledmyblade up into its cranium. For amoment longer it clutched atme, hissingbloodyspittle,andthentheterriblepressurefinallyfellaway.It collapsed, crashing into a heap of armour-plates, gauntlets falling limp. Idroppedtomykneesontopofit,haulingbreathsintomycrushedlungs,barely
abletoseeforthespinningstarscrowdingmyvision.Iclawedmywayacrossitsbreastplate,backtowardstheopeningatitsneck.Irippedthehelmfromitshead,andgazedonthemonster.Itsfleshwaswhite,likegristle. Its eyes were bloodshot and swollen, its black tongue lolling frompiercedlips.Itslastexpressionwasoneofderangementandagony,whichgavemesomemeasureoffiercerecompense.Itookmyownhelmofftolookatitunfiltered.ThenIhawkedupagobbetandspatintoitsunseeingeyes.Formysisters,Itoldit,silently.
Iwouldhavelikedtomournforlonger,toimmolatethebodieswiththeproperrites,butIknewtimewasalreadyshort.Theentiregrid-sectorhadbeenruinedintheattack,butsoonreinforcementswouldarrivefromelsewhereontheplanet,lookingforareasonfortheattackanddiggingdowntoitsepicentre.Thatwouldbringunwelcomeeyestowhatremainedoftheconvent,potentiallyundoingallwehadbuiltinsecrecy.I got up from the corpse of the monster. The command nexus, an archedchamber placed like a crypt at the base of an old nave, had been thoroughlysmashed.Bodies littered the cracked floor.Manywereout of armour, perhapsdraggedfromtheirmeditationsorstudies.Onebyone,IsawthefacesIknew,allbatteredandlifeless.I limped through the nexus and into the network of chambers beyond. Theraidershadtorchedthearchives,andthedatacoilswerestillacridandsmoking.Thearmourywasempty,itscontentseitherdestroyedorlooted.Wedidnothaveourownchapels,only the shamones in the levelsabove,butourprivatecellswherewetrainedandrestedwereransacked.Allweredead.Theraidershadnotcometoseizeanything,simplytodestroy.Somehow,despiteallourefforts,theyhadfoundoutwherewewerebased,andassembledaforcestrongenoughtonullifyourdefencesandgutourcitadel.Thatthoughtalonetroubledmegreatly.Ourorderwasclandestine,butwewerenot undefended. The lower halls were shielded and augur-resistant. We hadheavyweapons and the crew tohandle them.Anyoneofmy sistershadbeentrained tofight thegreatestdangersof theImperium,andon theirowngroundweremorethanamatchforthosethathadcomeafterthem.Thefact that therewerenobodiesof theEnemydidnotmeanthatmanyhadnotdied in theassault.Asidefromthecrippledone theyhad leftbehind, therewasevidenceofothercasualtieshavingbeentakenaway,draggedheavilyalong
thegroundforretrievalofarmourandgene-seed.Itwasalmostunheardof,eveninthosestraitenedtimes,forasizeablebandofsuchwarriorstoassaultaworldlike Arraissa. There must have been so many monsters here, acting in suchbrutal,concentratedforce.Perhaps that was the true reason they had left one behind – as a marker ofthings to come, to let the citizens of the Imperium know just what was nowstalkingthem.Myragestillburnedas Ikicked through theremnants,partlydirectedagainstmyself.Perhaps ithadbeenunwise to leave forHellion, I thought,despite thefact there had been no warning.Wouldmy presence have changed anything?Probably not. Imight have downed one,maybe two, but itwas clear that thebattlehadbeenhorriblyone-sided.Myignoranceofthecomingattackwaswhathadsavedmylife.Itwasboththegreatstrengthandthegreatweaknessofourkind,thatwehadnoreadyaccesstothewarp.OurcounterpartsintheAdeptusAstartesemployedtheservicesofLibrariansandthefinestastropaths,seersandmystics,andthuscouldoftendetectthreatsbeforetheyarose.We,ontheotherhand,wereblindtothat aspect of the universe. Our own Navigators and astropaths were stuntedthings, barely able to operate in our presence, and thus we had no means ofscryingthepathsofthefuturebyourselves.It had been different, once.We had been part of the grandmachinery of theAdeptus Terra itself, able to draw on its near-infinite resources to bolster ouruniquemartialexpertise.Thatwashowwehadbeendesigned,asinteroperablepartsofagreaterwhole.TheSpaceMarineLegionswereself-containedarmiescapable of doing everything, whereas we and the Custodian Guard had beencomplementary, just elements of a unified capability under the Throne’scombinedgaze.Butthatwasallsolongago.IhadnoideaiftheCustodianGuardstillexistedastheyoncehad.Everythinghaddecayedsomuch,fallingsteadilyawayfromitsoriginalpurpose.Wewerelikechildrenstumblingintheshadows,tryinghardtorememberoldlessonsbeforetheywerelostforever,andnowthenightmareswerecomingback.Theroomsmarchedpastme,eachonemoredecrepitthantherest.Theraidershadbeenthorough.Everycorridorbroughtafreshbraceofbodies,wedgedandbrokenintothecorners.HereandthereIcouldseemysistershadattemptedtoformbulwarksagainstthetide,barricadingthemselvesbehindstrongpointsandfightinghard.Ihopedtheyhadextractedaheavytollbeforetheend.
Therehadtobeaspecificreasonforthis.Itcouldn’thavebeenarandomraid–the resources required were too enormous, the intelligence too precise. IrememberedthecrowingwordsofthewomanonHellion–Doesn’tmatternow.It’sallending,andverysoon.What was the Circlet?Was it a creation of the Old Legions, then? Had ouruncoveringof itsactivitiesprovokedthisresponse,orhadwebeenmarkedfordestructionforsomeotherreason?There was no sign of Hestia. Some of the other Sisters were missing too,thoughIhadnoideawhethertheyhadbeenabsentonothermissions.Ireachedthe comm-stationwith its annihilated transmitters.Crunchingacross a floorofbrokencrystal,Imanagedtofindalocal-rangeemitter,whichwasstilljustaboutfunctional. I restored power to it from a half-empty cell and instructed it tobroadcastacipheredwarningtostayaway.Ihadnoideahowlongitwouldlast,butatleastitwassomething.Fromfarabove,Iheardheavycrashes,andthedistantsoundofhumanvoicesshouting. A search team, perhaps, finally making its way into the basilica. Iwould have to move on before they found me, but there were still somechamberstosearch.The lastwas thatofLokk, theoldastropathwhohadservedHestia faithfullyfor nearly twenty years.He had been aweakenedman formuch of that time,drainedbyhisproximitytoourfoul,soullessways,andyethe’dremainedtodohisduty.Hisbodywasn’tthere,thoughtherewasalongslickofbloodalongthefarwall.Hiscothadbeensmashedandhisbookstorched,leavingtrailsofsootacrossthecrumblingplasterwork.I pushedmyboot-tip through themess, sifting for anything retrievable.He’dbeen awriter of copious texts, hadLokk, forever scribbling down his dreamsbeforetheydriftedfromhismemory.Mostofithadnevermademuchsense,andhadonlylimitedvalueforguidingtheconvent,butHestiahadvaluedhisloyalty,andonoccasionhisvisionshadprovedbothtrueandvaluable.Verylittleofhisstockofparchmenthadavoidedtheflames,andthefewscrapsthat had survived were scrawled with endless lists of runes and astrologicalcharts. I couldn’t make any sense of them, and let them flutter back to theground.Itwasonlyas I turned to leave that I saw thephrase,writtenacross thedooritselfinwhatlookedlikeblood.Thelanguagewasourown,theprivatescriptweemployed for the most secret matters, and which to an untrained eye hardlylooked likewriting at all.Even I almostmissed it.Once I saw the patches of
darkred,Iwonderedhowtheycouldhavebeenmade–hadLokkwrittenthembeforehe’ddied?Orevenbeforetheattack?Inanyevent,itwasunusuallyconcise.HecallsHisdaughtersHome.Ilookedatitforalongtime.Ididn’tquitebelieveit.IwishedHestiaweretheretogivemeconfidenceinmyjudgement,butofcourseshecouldn’tbe.Ifeltveryalonethen,stalkingthroughtheruinsoftheonlyhomeIhadeverknown,nowahauntofcorpses.Iheardmorenoisesfromupabove.Iwouldhavetomakemywaytothehangarbeforemyroutewascutoff.Therewasnothinglefttosalvagehere,thoughthescenesofdestructionandthebodiesencasedinancientarmourwouldgive theenforcerspausewhentheyeventuallyarrived.Imovedoutcarefully,keepingmydaggerinhand.I’dhavetogetbacktotheCadamara swiftly, get out of rangeofArraissa, and thenplanmynextmove.Thereweremanypossibilities,butIneededtimetothink,tostarttomakesenseofwhathadhappened.GrievingwouldcomewhenIcouldaffordit–rightnow,IhadtoassumeIwashunted,aswereperhapsallmykindstilloperatingoutinthevoid.HecallsHisdaughtersHome.I couldn’tget thewordsoutofmymind.Theyechoedas I broke into a run,fleeingthroughtheblood-webbedcorridors.Whatdiditmean?Whatdidanyofitmean?
IreturnedtotheCadamara,hardlybotheringtoevadetheclustersoffranticairtraffic that threatened to bar my way. Civil defence assets had been fullymobilised by then, as had thematt-black flyers of the planetaryArbites units.Their enforcerswere effective troops, but I shuddered to thinkwhat slaughterwouldhavetakenplacehadtheyarrivedintimetodisturbthetrueenemy.Evenforus,Iadmit,therewasatendencytothinkofourfoesasderangedandbloodthirsty,ever likely to sink intoaberserk frenzywhen theopportunity forslaughterpresenteditself.Someofthemwere,ofcourse,andwehadwonbattleson the basis of our greater discipline, but that was to underestimate the truemastersofruin,whofoughtaskeenlyandasshrewdlyastheyhadoncedoneasservantsofTerra.Theywere taking out identified targets,moving on before discovery,makingthebestuseoftheirnumbers.IthoughtagaintothestarmapfromHellion.My thoughtswere interrupted by the commencement of the docking cycle. I
pulledinsidethehangar,securedtheinterceptorandmademywaybacktothecommandbridge.‘Widespread damage to major planetary infrastructure,’ Erefan reported,somewhatsuperfluously.‘Nosignofenemyunitsremainingin-system.’Therehadbeenone,though,Ithoughttomyself.Mycrewwouldneedordersnow.Theywouldneedtobetoldwhattodo,andhow to react. In the normal run of things Iwould have given themwhat theyneededwithouthesitation,butIwasstillinastateofshockedgrief.Erefanmusthavesensedit,forhestartedgivingcommandswithoutwaitingforme.‘Take us out of orbit,’ he commanded. ‘Beyond augur range, then hold forfurtherinstructions.’TheCadamara swung round, bumping up against some tumbling wreckage,thenboostedclearoftheupperatmosphere.Aswepickedupspeedforsystem-exit,IsawthecolossaloutlineofanAstraMilitarumtroopcarrieremergeoverthehorizon.Arraissahaditsownregiments,andonehadclearlybeenscrambledalready.Theclean-upwasbeginning.Thenwewere gone, boosting clear of the debris and back out into the openvoid.OncetheCadamara’sengineshitfulltilt, theworldshrankbackquickly,firstapaleorb,thenaspot,thennothing.IknewsomehowitwouldbethelasttimeIwouldeverseeit,andsowatchedtheviewersthewholetimetoensureIwouldrememberthesight.Thecrewsaidnothing tome.Mostaverted theireyes, though Icaughta fewsnatchedupwardglancesfromthescannerpits.TheyknewIhadnosoul.TheywereprobablywonderingwhetherIalsolackedaheart.Isentamessagetotheship’sNavigator,indicatedforErefantocarryonashewasdoing,thenwentbacktomyownquarters.Oncethere,IretrievedtheitemsIhadtakenfromHellion,mostofthemstillshroudedinnull-fields.Istartedtogo through them all, activating any comm-canisters I could find, studying thescrapsofparchmentandritualprayers.Afterawhileofthis,theNavigator,Slovo,appeared.Icouldsensetheextremewarinessinhim.Itwasharderforhimthanitwasforhuman-normalstobeclosetome.Atleasttheywereonlypartlypsychiccreatures,whereasSlovowasattheopposite end of the spectrum – a beingwholly steeped in the tide of souls. Ifoundhimfairlyobjectionable too,but thatwasmostlydown topoorpersonalhygiene.‘Youaskedforme,lord,’hesaid,bowingstiffly.Hewasaskinnyman,drapedindirtyrobesinhisHousecolours.Hehadalong
hookednoseandsunkeneyes.Wenevermanagedtoget thebest toservewithus, only those who for whatever reason couldn’t secure service with a morepalatable branch of our glorious Imperium, but hewas competent enough andaddictedtosomeofthelessruinoussense-dullingnarcotics.I gestured towards the great swath of human flesh, pinned up again betweenstavesandnowadorningthefarwallofmychamber.Slovolimpeduptoitandlookedhardacrosstheswirlsofblood.‘Awarpmap,’hesniffed.‘Basicerror.Youcan’tmapthewarp.’My fingers flickered in a series of simple responses – he didn’t understandThoughtmark,sowewerelimitedtocruderphrases.Idon’tcare.Tellmewhatitmeans.Keepitconcise.Helookedmorecarefully.‘Iseewhatthey’redoing,’hesaideventually.‘Thesearerepresentations,suchasyoucanhavethem,ofmajorchannels.Thekindofthingyou’dbringafleetdown. They’ve been getting narrower, those channels – remember I told youthat?Perhapstheyknowwhy.’Hetracedabonyfingerovertheflayedcartograph,mumblingtohimself.Ilethimcarryon.Icouldneverdecidehowmuchofthiswasforshowornot–theylikedtoguardtheirsecrets,didthoseoldmutantsofthewarp.‘Perhaps,’hesaid,thentrailedoffagain.‘Perhaps,butmaybenot.’IsentmyfingersintoaSayitpattern.He shotme an irritated glance. I could see howmuch he hatedme then.Heunderstoodtheoriginofthathatred,andforthatreasonkeptitsuppressedasbesthecould,butitstillspilledoutfromtimetotime.‘Supposetheyknewwhatwasgoingtohappen,’hesaid.‘Supposetheyknewwhichwaythetideswerepulling.Theymightknowthatsomechannelswouldclose,andsomewouldopen.Thenthey’dhavetokeepcontrolovertheonesthatwereopen.Therewouldbeworlds,sittingatthemouthsofthoseconduits.Theycouldpour their filthycraftdownthoseways. It’dbedifficult.They’dhave tocoordinatestrikesoverahugespanofspace.Andthey’dhavetoberight,aboutitall.Idon’tthinkthisisasensiblescheme,though.Idon’tthinkit’spossible.’Wehadallgotusedtothingsthoughtimpossiblesuddenlyturningintoreality,soIdidn’tplacemuchconfidenceinthatjudgement.I looked at themapmyself. It wasn’t easy to study, for the shapes slid andbaffled, like optical illusions. I saw systems picked out in a script I didn’t
recognise–somefoultongueoftheEye,nodoubt.Theirarrangementwasnotasit was in real space, or I might have been able to identify them from ourcartographicrecords,butinsteadshowedtheirether-relationship–thewaytheystoodsetagainstthecurrentsoftheunseenrealm.Asthiswasforeverinflux,sotheytoldme,nostaticmapsofitcouldbeproduced.Theonlyusethishad,then,wasastheNavigatorsaid:iftheysomehowknewthefuturealignmentofthings.Idrewclosertothecentreofthediagram.ThenearerIdrewtothatpoint,themore the circles andpentagramsoverlapped, drawing the eye down towards asingleworld.EvenIcouldseethesignificanceofthatone,lodgedlikeajewelatthenexusofsomanyinterwovenlinesofblood.Terra?Iindicated.Slovoshrugged.‘Youcanread thisrubbish,canyou?Ican’t.Thereareothercardinal worlds – Cadia, Hydraphur, Mars. I wouldn’t want to make thatjudgement,notfromwhatIseehere.’Ipusheddownmyirritation.Themandidnotmeantobeinsolent,buthewasdoing what everymortal always did when talking withme – fighting againstrepulsion. He wanted to get out of this room, and that instinct colouredeverythinghesaid.Allthesame,Isigned.Heshrugged.IfeltthatI’dgoteverythingoutofhimIwaslikelyto.He’dbeneededsoon.He’d requireat least somerestbefore Iorderedus into thewarpagain.SoIsenthimaway.ThenIlookedoverthemarksagain,asifafinallookcouldgivemewhatIneeded.I didn’t derive any great inspiration from it. Those signs had beenmade forcorrupted eyes, steeped in significance that mine would miss. Nonetheless, Icould at least tally up the names of the worlds, for that would give mesomething.TherewereplacesofscholarshipwhereImightbeabletodecipherthatlist,whichwouldthengosomewaytowardsdecipheringthemap.But in truth there were now very few places to go.We had been operatingalone,sunderedfromtherestofourSisterhood–ifindeedanystillremained.Icouldn’t just set course for the next convent andhope to find refuge. Iwouldhavetomakeachoice.HecallsHisdaughtersHome.Iwentbackuptothebridge,feelingthetremorofthedecksundermybootsasthe ship burned out into the deep void. By the time I arrived back at station,Erefanwaswaitingforme.
‘Yourorders?’heasked.Runsilent,holdonceoutofsystemrange,Isigned.ThenIlookedupatthereal-viewersaboveme,alreadyblackandscatteredwithstars.‘Butwe’reheadingintothewarp,’Erefansaid.‘That’stheintention?’I gave him no signal. I looked at the stars, and I tried to imagine how theywouldoverlayontothatmap.Itis,Isigned.TotheThroneworld.Thatwas a longway.The routeswouldall beperilous, cloggedwithpilgrimtrafficandwatchedbytheEnemy.I was certain, though. As certain as I was about anything in those confusedtimes.Someofitwasestablishedprotocolintheeventofacatastrophe,someofitwasavaguersenseofthewaythingsweregoing,butmostcamefromLokk’sblood-scrawledmessage,somethinghehadmeantmetofind,Iremainsureofit.Havingseenthat,Icouldhardlyhavedoneotherwise.IfHehadtrulycalledus,aftersomanymillenniaofpainfulsilence,thenIwassurelyboundtoanswer.
TIERON
I had been so fixated on the problemofCadia.We all had.Thatwas perhapswhyweallmissedFenris.IhadbarelyeventhoughtaboutthePlanetoftheWolves.Tomeitwasasemi-mythical place. I had heard plenty about its fearsome Chapter, of course, buteventhenIhadnevermetoneofitsmembers.SpaceMarinesofanydescriptionwerenotcommononTerra.Ifinditalmostamusing to remember now, but the ancient prohibition on their presence herewasoneof the things that lingeredafter theold rationale for ithad longsincefaded.ItwassaidthattheThroneworldstillcarriedthescarsoftheGreatHeresy,and so had kept its distance from the Chapters out of a lingering sense ofrememberedterror.Therewasalittletruthinthat,andmuchnonsense.Thevisiblescarsofthatoldwarwereallstillthere,allthewayfromthehighestdomesofthePalacedowntotheslum-pitsof theequatorialzone,butveryfewof theordinarypeople,evenmanyofthepriests,hadanyclearideawhattheyrepresented.Inthefaceofallthatforgetfulness,theAngelsofDeathhadlongsinceceasedtobeanykindofterror for the great mass of the population here. Indeed, if they read theirEcclesiarchy catechisms they probably near-worshipped them as mythicalsaviours.Whatlingeredwasthewarinessoftherulingclasses.Theyknewtheirhistory,suchasitstillexistedforus.TheyknewthatevenafterthegreatreformsofthefirstLordCommander,thecombinedstrengthoftheAdeptusAstarteswasstillphenomenal,andthatifthosehundredsofminiaturearmiesevermadecommon
cause then they would be by far the most powerful single bloc within theImperium.AndsotheHighLordsworkedhardtomaintainadistancebetweenthe Throneworld and the Chapter Masters. The Inquisition was not abovesanctioninganythatgottoocloseforcomfort,thoughinanycasetheantipathywasgenerallymutual–theChaptersthemselvespreferredtobeoutinthevoid,abletofighttheenemywhereitpersisted.AndsoIhadneverlaideyesonaSpaceWolf.IhadneverlaideyesonaDarkAngeloraWhiteScar.TheonlyonesIhadeverwitnessed–fromadistance–were the golden warriors of Dorn’s Imperial Fists, who still maintained amonasteryontheworldtheyhadoncegarrisonedalone,andwhowerenowthemostfrequentvisitorstotheglitteringhallsoftheInnerPalace.Justlikeeverythingelse,thatwouldchange.Onthatday,though,thetidingsofstrifewerestillcominginfromalongwayaway.‘Fenris?’Iasked,foramomentassumingJekhadmadeararemistake.‘Undoubtedly,’shereplied,calmasever.‘Somethinghappened.There’stalkofthe Inquisition.OtherChapters too. Ihear things Icanscarcelybelieve, if I’mhonest,butthesourcesareimpeccable.’Knowingwhatweknownow,itseemsinconceivablethatwefoundoutsolate,and yet that was always the greatest burden we carried – the paucity ofcommunication across our scattered and stormy domains. Therewere familiarstories,someapocryphal,manytrue,ofentirewarsbeginningandendingbeforeweonTerraeverbecameawareofthem.Standardcommunicationconduitswereincredibly slow, relying on physical transport between worlds sundered bythousandsof lightyears.Psychic communicationwas littlebetter–unreliable,pronetomadnessanddisruption,gnomicinitsutterances.So do not blame us overmuch for the disaster of Fenris. Itwas not as if theWolvesthemselveshadeverbeeneagertoinvolveusintheirmanybattles.‘We gain a grip in one place, another slips into danger,’ I muttered, alreadywonderingwhatthiswouldmeanforourgreatundertaking.TheImperium,forallitsfaults,couldactdecisivelyandwellwhenconfrontedwithasinglegrandissue.Whenthewarzonesmultiplied,thatwaswhenparalysissetin.‘Whoelseknows?’By‘who’,ImeanttheHighLords.Onlytheyhadaccesstobetterintelligencethanwedid.‘Not all of them,’ said Jek. ‘Not yet. Haemotalion, certainly. Arx, probably.Kerapliades,we can assume,was the first to get tidings, but I’ve had nothingfromour agent there. I don’t think theNavy is informed yet, but if they start
needingmassfleetmovementsthenPerethwillbenextinline.’‘It’snotanisolatedevent,though,isit?’Isaid,thoughtfully.Jekwaitedformetogoon.SheknewIwasn’taskingher.‘Youknow,Ineverreallylistenedtoallthoseprophetsofdoominthepulpits,’Iwent on. ‘I told myself they’ve been predicting the days of darkness for athousandyears,anditneverquitegetsthatbad.ButfirstwehaveArmageddon,bleedinguswhite,and then thisdamnedendlesswarat theEye,andnowthis.Theykeeppilingup.Icouldlearntogetreligious.’Jeklaughed.‘You’dhaveplentytoatonefor,’shesaid.Ididn’tfeellikelaughingback.ItriednottothinkaboutthenumberoffilesI’dpassed over bearing the galactic orientation for Fenris – there was always somuchelsetokeepusbusy.Ibegantothinkharder.‘Shockingasitis,itcanhelpus,’Isaid.‘Iftrue,it’llbeanotherargumenttouseincamera.Whyarewekeepingforcesheldbackhere,whenthethreatsincrease?Throne,wehavetenthousandofthemhere.That’stenChapters.It’sinsane.’Weonlyhaddaysthenbeforethegreatconclaveofthecamerainferior.‘AnythingbackfromtheCaptain-General?’Jekasked.Thatwastheoneremainingproblem.‘Ican’tgetclose.’‘Idon’tthinkyouwill,now.’Ihatedtoadmitdefeat.ItwastheonefaultIadmittedreadily.Backintheolddaysofscholabullying,whenIwasbeatenbloodybymenwhowouldgoontocommandregiments,Iwouldlieinthedark,aching,andplothowbesttocomebackfromthehumiliation. Iwouldhave tearsstillwetonmyjuvenilecheeks,butIwouldalreadybeconsideringhowtoweakenthestandingofmyenemies,tospreadtherumoursthatwouldisolatethem,tocallinthefavoursthatwouldeventuallyseethemhumbledandindebttome.Knowingwhenyou’rebeaten–that’stheroutetocertaindefeat.Ihadheardsomany high-ranking officialswhisper tome over the past fewyears, ‘It’s over,we’vehadit,wejustcan’traisethetroopsweneed’,andIhadneverbelievedasingleoneof them.Theonly truequestionwas theone I had askedHarster –‘Whatcanbedone?’ButatthatpointIcouldseenowayforward.IhadfailedFadix’stest,andcouldnot guarantee bringing the Captain-General to the High Lords’ table. In hisabsence, nothing would change, and we would remain passive as our defeatsmultiplied.
‘Youmightberight,’Imuttered,hatingthesoundofthewords,butunabletoseepastthem.
Iwokeuptothesoundofthehighestalarm-levelgoingoffinsidemyear.ForamomentIhadnoideawhereIwasorwhatwashappening–allIcouldhearwasthetinnyshriekofmycochlearalertblazing.Ishutitdownandsatup,thesilksheetsofmybedslidingfromsweatylimbs.‘Lights,’Isaid,andthreepearlysuspensorsglowedintolife.Myroomwas indisarray,and foramoment I thought ithadbeenransacked.ThenIrememberedtheeventsoftheevening,theentertainingcompanyandthecopiouswinewehadallsunk,anddiscountedthat.I got up blearily, pulling on a robe and twisting the sash around my fleshywaist.‘Report,’Iordered,speakingintothecomm-beadimplantedinmywrist.‘Violentincursioninsectorlamba-septoftheInnerPalace,’camethevoiceofthe duty officer, a man named Rivo Jemel. ‘Counter measures enacted, butseverityrequirednotification.’‘I’llbethere,’Isaid,slippingonshoesandreachingforaheavycloak.‘Sendmethecoordinates.’ThenIwasrunning.Iwasnotagoodrunner,youwillnotbesurprisedtohear–Iwaddledlikeanoverfedfowl,mylooseshoesslappingonthepolishedfloors.As I went, as part of standard procedure, I was joined by members of myhousehold guard, who jogged along behind me in deference to my uncertainpace.The destination was close. I reached an internal groundcar transport and webundled inside it, thenhurtleddown the transit tubes towards the inner ringofthePalaceinterior.ThroughbriefflashesfromthearmourglassportalsIsawthehighspiresstreakbythroughthenight,theirflankslitwithsodiumglare-points.Myearpiecewasbythenfullofshoutedorders,incomingreports,exclamationsof surprise and horror. They had all known about the widespread disorderbeyondthewalls,buttohavesomethingtakeplaceinside–thatwassomethingelse.I let them jabber. Iwas already ahead of them, notified first and in the bestposition to act.Thegroundcar slammed into its terminus,nowdeep inside theSenatorum Imperialis complex itself, and we disembarked. The six guardsfanned out aroundme protectively, andwe plunged further in, racing throughhalf-litanteroomsandaudiencehalls.
Iknewthemall.PerhapsmorethananymortalmanthenlivingIknewhowtogetfromonesideofthelabyrinthtotheother,andsowemadeswiftprogress.BythenIcouldalreadyhearthesnapoflasgunimpacts,followedbythecrashandsplatterofpricelessthingsbreaking.We broke into a semi-ruined chamber, thick with old dust and the fadedremnantsofsomeTelech-era frescoes.Thesuspensorshadbeenblown,andsowesawwhathappenedonlythroughwhirlingpoolsofhead-mountedlumens.Theywereservitors–huge,vat-bulkedservitorswithheavychainglaives.TheyhadbeenstampedwiththeliveryofthePalace,woretheirraggeduniformsoverobscenelymuscledbodies,andwererampaging,stormingdownthecentreofthelongroomlikeenragedgroxes.Iestimatedtwentyofthemwereloose,chargingatanervouslineofPalatineSentinelsarrayedatthefarend.Myguardscrouchedtofire,levellinglasrifles.‘Hold,’Isaid,walkingoutbeyondtheirprotection.Thebarrageofcommtrafficinmyaudex-feedwasgivingmeinformationtheycouldn’thaveheard,andIfeltatremorofexcitement,tingedwithterriblefear.Iknew,yousee,whatwascomingnext.Hebrokethroughatthefarendofthechamber,wherethePalatineswere,andinstantlyrenderedthemsuperfluous.Greatpanelleddoorssmashedbackontheirhinges,rammedhardagainstthewallsandsplintering.Lightfloodedthroughtheopening,dazzlingandiridescent.Helookedmagnificent.IfI’dnotbeensoblindsidedImighthavefallendownandworshipped that apparition.Hemoved like something out of legend – farfasterthanIwasabletofollow,impossiblyfastforhishugebulk,awhirlwindofgold and black. The air screamed around him, blazing from where his greatbladescythedandburned.Hecutthroughtheservitorsasiftheywerenothingatall,justrandomtattersofuselessmachinerythrownupasanaffronttohisimmortaldignity.Icouldbarelyeven follow how he did it – the movement was so ludicrously quick, sohorrificallypowerful–andeventhenIhadthesensethathewasbarelytested.Heflunghisspearoutwideandsentthreeofthem–threeofthem–sailingintothefarwalltocrunchandslitherinatangledmess.Hepunchedout,breakingtheneckofafourth, thenblastingafifthwith thestave-mountedbolter.Thenoisewasincredible,awallofsnarlingplasma-burnthatseemedtowreathehiminacloakofdistortion,andyethesaidnothingatall.Onlymindless servitors would not have fled shrieking then, but these flesh-automatajustkeptoncoming,zeroingtheirtargetingsensorsandblunderingto
getashot.Hebarrelledinamongthem,nowtwisting,nowlunging,slicinghisbladecleanthroughtheknotsofgreyfleshandburningmetal.Anotherservitorwashurledintotheair,limbscartwheeling,beforeitcrashedintothefloorinacloudofsplinteredtiles.Twomoreweredecapitatedwitha two-handedheave,thenmorewereblastedapartbythebolter.Heworkedalmostcasually,andyetnothingwascasualatall–itwaschoreographedwithsuchremorselessprecisionthatitwasmoreartthancombat.And it only lasted seconds. That was all he needed. The echoes of hisdestruction took longer to die down, drifting over a smouldering scene ofabsoluteannihilation.IhadbarelyevenfullyregisteredhisentrancebeforeIwastrying tomake sense ofwhat had just happened,marvelling at the volume ofwreckagegeneratedinsuchatinysliceoftime.Afterwards he stood at the centre of it, his spear held loose, his black cloaksinking back around his shoulders. His helm-lenses glowed like rubies in thedark,givingafaintredtingetothebaroquemajestyofhisclosed-facehelm.HisarmourwasevenfinerandmoreintenselyadornedthanValerian’shadbeen–averitable hulk of heavy gold, emblazoned with thunderbolts and lightningstrikes, the oldest of our ancient symbols, surrounded by astrologicalembellishmentsthatseemedtowritheandgrinintheflickeringgloom.Theguardsbesidemehadnotevenhadthechancetoopenfire.TheywereasstunnedasIwas,butthentheyhadneverbeenasignificantfactorhere.Theonlytwosoulswhomatteredinthatroomwerehimandme.Heknewwhathadhappenedevenbeforehisblade’senergyfieldhadkindled.Thathadalwaysbeentherisk,andthereweremoreriskstocome,butdesperatetimesrequireddesperateremedies.Hewalked towardsme. Everymove hemadewas still bleedingwith barelycontainedmenace.Iwantedtothrowupthen.Icouldfeelsalivapoolingatthebackofmythroat,andswallowedthickly.‘Getout,’hesaid.Hewasn’ttalkingtome.ThePalatineSentinelsobeyedinstantly,clatteringoutofthechamberindisciplinedfiles.Totheircredit,myownguardhesitatedforamomentortwo,buttheirresolvewasonlyhuman,andsotheytoowithdrew.Iwasleftlookingupintothehelm-visorofTrajannValoris,Captain-Generalofthe Adeptus Custodes, perhaps the deadliest individual warrior in the entireImperium,andonewhomIhadjustmadeveryangryindeed.Istartedtoblurtsomethingout.‘Silence,’hecommanded,andIstammeredtoahalt.‘Howdidyouknow?’
Somehowmy external comm-feed had been closed by then – I assume he’ddone that – and I felt terribly vulnerable. His voice, booming out of a vox-emitter,mademybonesshiver.Iwantedsobadlytokneel, thoughthatgesturewouldhaveachievednothing.‘Forgiveme,lord,I–’‘Howdidyouknow?’Iswallowedagain.Ifeltlight-headed.Thiswasagambletoofar,andIcursedmyselffordaringit.Perhapsitwouldhavebeenbettertoacknowledgedefeat.‘IarrangedthetransitoftheFabricatorGeneral’sentouragetothiszone,’Isaid,tryingtokeepalidonmyfear.‘Hewasthelastonetoarrive.Iknewyouwouldhavebeenoverseeingthesecurityforhisinstallationinperson.Ialsoknewtheaccesscodes,andhadthemeanstocircumventthesecurityprotocols.Ineededtogetyouhere–youandme.’By then hewas standing overme. I could smell the blood and oil from theservitorsslowlycookingonhisstill-hotblade.Icouldfeeltheactinictangoftheenergy field. I could trace the linesof that impossibly crafted armour, and seejust howachinglybeautiful itwasup-close. Iwondered if itmightbemy lastsight.Notabadone,Ithought,grimly.‘Ihavekilledmenforlessthanthis,’hesaid.‘Iknow,’Isaid.‘Yourrankwillnotprotectyou.’‘Iknow.’‘Thenwhydoit?’ThatwasthequestionI’dbeenwaitingfor. Ifhe’dtrulymadehisminduptoexecutemethenandthere,hewouldnothaveaskedit.Itwasmyonlywayin,thoughwhetherIwouldbeabletotakeitwasstillverymuchmoot.‘Becausemylifereallymeansverylittle,’Isaid,tryingmybesttoholdthingstogether.‘Almostnothing,Isuppose,butIdoknowthings.Icanseehowthingsaregoing.AndIhaveaduty,whenthecallcomes, todowhatIcantoaidtheworkingsoftheCouncil.’Istillfeltnauseous,andhadtofighttheurgetovomit.‘I’vebeentryingtospeaktoyouforweeks.Allmyotheravenuesareexhausted.ThiswastheonlythingIhadleft,andithadtobedared.’Henevermadeamove.Afterseeingjusthowastonishinglypowerfulhecouldbe when in motion, watching him remain perfectly static was intimidating initself.‘Iaskedyourshield-captainforfiveminutes,’Iwenton,doingwhatIcouldtolooklessthanridiculous.‘Therequestremainsinplace.’
Hewaitedalongtime.Iwasclammywithsweatbythen,andfeelingdizzy,andexpectedatanymomentforthespeartocomeplungingintomyneck.Iwouldn’thaveevenfeltit,Iimagine.I’dhaveneverseenitcoming.I felt my knees begin to give out. The last twitches and pops of the dyingservitorsweretheonlysoundsinthatplacethen,saveforthefaintgrindofthepowerarmourbeforeme.I began to make my preparations. I had never been devout, but there werecertainprayersoneshouldreciteatthehourofpassing,andIstillrememberedsomeofthewords.‘Comewithme,then,’hesaid.He turned on his heel, and stalked back through the bodies. Mouthing awhisperedthankstowhicheversaintwaswatchingovermethatday,Ipulledmyrobesaboutmeandhurriedtofollow.
LetmetellyouwhatIknewofTrajannValoris.The second of those use-nameswas, I think, an honorific earned in battle, aprestigetitlethathadlongsincepassedoutofusebytherestoftheImperium.Ofcourse,hewouldhavehadathousandothernamestoo,all inscribedwithinthatcarcassofauramite,butitwasstandardprotocoltorefertohimasValorisontherareoccasionswhenanyofhisappellationswereuseddirectly.WhilethetwotribunesoftheAdeptusCustodesweregenerallyoccupiedwiththemanyritualpurposesoftheorder,theCaptain-Generalhadnosetremit,butgoverned the forcesunderhis commandwithcomplete freedom.To theextentthatif theTenThousandhaddealingswithanypartoftheAdeptusTerra, theywerecarriedoutthroughhim.TheHighLordsmightseektogainanaudience,asmightothergreatwarriorsorthemightiestofourinquisitorlords,butonlythoseofequivalentseniority.Andthatwasit.TherewerenorecordsintheImperialdatabanksonhismartialconquests or his ascent into the order. I didn’t knowwhat his name had beenbeforehewastakenintotheSanctumImperialis,orwherehehadbeenborn,orwhen. It might have been a hundred years ago, or it might have been fivethousand.For as long as I had been alive, though, his name had been spoken of withnothingshortofreverence.EventheHighLordsmightbemocked,wheninwineor in anger, but to do so with the Captain-General was simply beyondimagination.IntheAgeofWonder,itwassaidthattheEmperorhademployedaregent–apowerfulfigurewhosetintrainthevastbureaucracythatwouldone
daybecometheAdministratum–andtospeakilloftheEmperor’sregentwasabreathawayfromspeakingilloftheEmperor.SoitwaswithValoris.WhilenotofficiallynumberedamongtheHighLordshimself,therewaslittledoubtthathewastheclosestthingwestillpossessedtotheEmperor’sownrepresentative.Andso,evenwhenthefearofimminentdeathhadsubsidedalittle,Iremaineddauntedbythisfigure.Iwasnotgenerallyswayedbyreputations,forIhadseenhow often they were false masks hiding small minds, but this one was quiteliterallyabreedapart.HeledmedeeperintothePalace,andsoonweweredowninthecryptsbelowoneofthegreatbattle-chapelscommemoratingthefirstUllanortriumph.Bythetime he stopped walking, it felt as if we had descended into the heart of theplanet.Thestonearounduswascoldandcrackedwithage,and theonly lightcamefromtheglowofhishelm-lensesandtheresidualauraofhismagnificentarmour.‘Youwantedfiveminutes,’hesaid.I might have asked if this place was secure from listening devices, butimmediatelythoughtbetterofit.Hehadbroughtmehere.Ofcourseitwas.‘IhearreportsfromeverycorneroftheImperium,’Istarted, tryingtocontrolthe shake inmy voice and rememberwho Iwas andwhom Iworked for. ‘IntruthIhearmorethananyoneelse,eventheHighLords,fortheyallhavetheirfiefs towatch, and I have allegiance to both none and all.And, though I risktellingyouwhatyoualreadyknow,Iseeatippingpointbeingreachednow.Iseethe losseswe’re takingbecomingirrecoverable.AndIcan’tstandbackanddonothing.’HewassilentasIspoke,butslowlyreachedup tohishelmand took itoff. Idon’tknowwhatIwasexpectingtosee–perhapssomethinglikeValerianhadbeen,withhissmoothskinandpleasantcomplexion.Valoriswas nothing of the kind. His visagewas hard-edged, broken by scartissue, the skin veined and vivid.His lipswere thin, his nose flared, his necksinewy.Inthatlowlight,nodoubtamplifiedbymyownfear,helookedalmostghoulish.‘Itisnotyourtasktotellmethis,’hesaid.Oncefreeofhishelm,hisvoicewaslow,considered.‘In the normal run of things, yes, that’s right,’ I said, working to keep mycomposure.‘ButthecompositionoftheCouncil iswithinmypurview,andtheLordBrach is gone–Thronepreservehis soul – and there’s no consensusonwhoshouldreplacehim.Andthenthere’sDissolution,whichhasbeendiscussed
anddiscussedbutneverbeenruledon.’Valorisplacedhisemptyhelmonthealtarbesidehim.Heleanedhisgreatspearagainstoneofthecolumns,andthecuttingbladeclinkedagainstthestone.Thenheregardedmewiththoseterriblebloodshoteyes.‘Andyouwishmetosettletheissue,’hesaid.‘Noneofthisisnewtome.’‘But since then, lord, we have had word of catastrophe on Fenris. And twofleetshavebeenlostenroutetotheedgesofSegmentumSolartoreinforcethesupply lines ofWarmasterKatask.These are hardly trivial setbacks.And thenthereis–’‘Cadia. The Gate into the Eye. You seem to think, chancellor, that we areunawareofthis.’‘No,notatall,butyoumaynothavetheperspectiveIdo.’His gaze, as unbending as the granite around us, neverwavered. Iwonderedwhatitmightlooklikeifhetriedtosmile.‘Iknowwhatyouwishfor,’Valorissaid. ‘Andyouknowwehad thischancebefore, when Speaker Lestia died. We did not take it then. The reason wassimple–theHighLordsruletheImperium,andwearenotoftheImperium.’IrememberedthatValerianhadsaidthesamething.‘TherewasatimewhenHisvisionwasmanifest.Allyouseearoundyounow,allthathasbeenbuiltovertenthousandyears,noneofthatisHis.Whileyouhaveforgotten,weremember.’‘Buttherewerecaptains-generalontheCouncilbefore.’‘Whentheneedwasgreatest.’I couldnothelpmyself– I let slip awry smile. ‘Andnow theneed isgreat,lord.Theneedisverygreatindeed.’‘FortheImperium,’Valorisagreed.‘Ifmyfirstdutyweretoyourmortalrealm,the case would be strong. But my first duty is to the Emperor. We are Hisguardians,notanarmyundertheCouncil.’‘Yes,thatiswhatyouhavebecome,butitwasnotalwaystheway.’And then, for the first time, I detected the smallest indication of surprise.KnowledgeoftheGreatCrusadewasvanishinglyrareeveninthehighestlevelsofthehierarchy,butIhadaccesstomanyobscurelibrariesandhadmadeitthesubject of much study. Once, I knew, the Custodians had waged war in thefarthestreachesofthegalaxy,andnotinvariablywiththeEmperorattheirhead.‘Thingsweredifferentthen,’hesaid.‘Of course theywere. Themany ages are always different.’ I was somehowforgettingmyfear.Thedebatehadreignitedsomethingwithinme–loveofanargument, perhaps. ‘But how can the Throneworld remain safe if its fortress
worlds fall, onebyone? I hear the entreaties from thosewe sendout into thevoid.Oneofthem,afinemanwhoisalmostcertainlydeadnow,saidthatwecanno longeraffordourold laws.He’s looked theEnemy in theeye. I’d trusthisjudgement.’Iwasgettingcarriedawaythen,andIrecogniseditimmediately.TheCaptain-Generalremainedimpassive.IdoubtIcouldhavedoneanythingtoseriouslydiscomforthim–IwassofarbelowhiminthescaleofmajestythatIwasluckyheevendeignedtotalkatall.‘Youmay be right, chancellor,’ he said, evenly. ‘Everything you saymay beright,andyetitisallirrelevant.Warsandtacticsareforourgenerals–forme,they are nothing.A thousandworldsmight fall, and still itwould be nothing.Youunderstandthis?Onlyonethingwouldcompelmetochangetheancientlawthatgovernsus–ifitwereHismanifestwill.’Ihesitated,unsurewhattomakeofthat.‘But…howdoyou–’‘Thatisthetaskofourlivestounravel.’Therewas something exhausting about talking to onewith such unbreakablecertainty. They had to be that way, no doubt, but I was used to the world ofpolitics,where the art of the possiblewas all and a personmight believe onethinginthemorningandanotherbydusk,andsoitwashardtoengagewith.‘TheHighLordswilldiscussitanyway,’Isaid,clutchingatwhatIcould.‘Yes,’saidValoris.‘Yourdoing,Iunderstand.’‘Onlypartly.’Ilookedhimdirectlyintheeye,ascloselyasIcouldbearto.‘Ifyou’renotthere,they’lldebatetheseissueswithoutfullunderstanding.They’recurrently divided, but that might change. I’ve known it before. Suppose theyvotetowithdrawthelaw–whatthen?You’llbeapartofthiswar,whetheryoulikeitornot.’‘Nonemaycompelus.’‘Maybe not, but the vote would create division. Now, when we really don’tneed any more of it.’ I felt myself warming to the theme, and some of myconfidencereturned.‘Thisistheissue,Captain-General–youhavecontrol.Youcan end this for a generation, if you choose. If you’re so sure of your stance,cometotheCouncil.YoucantakeBrach’sseat.Youcansaywhatyouhavesaidhere,tome,andnonecouldgainsayyou.Isthatnotworthit?’Hewasstudyingme.Justthen,Isawwhathehadbeendoing.Mywordsmadenodifferenceatall,andithadalwaysbeentheutmosthubristothinktheymightdo,buthewasinterestedinme.‘Whydoesthisdriveyousomuch,chancellor?’heasked.
‘Mydutyistoserve.’‘Impartially.Andyetyouaresodesperatetoseethemotionpass.’Iflounderedalittle.‘Iwishtoseethewarwon.Surelyallofusdo.’Valorisdrewcloser tomethen.Hewaslookingatmealmosthungrily,as ifIwereoneofhismanyhunt-targets.‘Youwereacynicalman,’hesaid.‘Youwereloyal,butyounevertooksides.Foryou,itwassimplyaboutthewheelsofthemachine. And now you are ready to die just to meet me. Have you neverconsideredwhatishappeningtoyou?’Jekhadaskedmethesamething.Foronce,Iwaslostforwords.‘Thereisamaxim,’saidValoris,‘thatyoumaybefamiliarwith.ItstatesthattheEmperoriswithinallofus,andthatallofusarewithintheEmperor.Ifyouwish to discernHis desire, then look to the desire of thosewho serve.He nolongerspeakstouswithamortalvoice,butmayyetactthroughthedevotionofthosewhodo.’Thissoundeddangerouslylikeheresy.Ifithadcomefromanyotherbuthim,Imighthaveturnedawaythen.Asitwas,allIcoulddowaslisten.‘Wearenotblindtothis,’hesaid.‘WhenValerianreportedbacktomeafterhismeetingwithyou,Imighthavesummonedyouthen,butdidnot,wishingtoseehow far you were willing to go. That sounds like a cruel game? It was notintended to be.Wehave learned to bewary, for there aremore false prophetsthantrue.Butyourzealisunfeigned,forifithadnotbeen,youwouldbedeadalready.’Icrackedadrysmile.‘Nicetoknowthat,’Isaid.‘Idonotseethewayaheadyet,’Valoriswenton,ignoringme.‘Allpathsaredarknow,andifIhadknowntheroutetotakewithclarity,itwouldhavebeentaken fifteen years ago. But I cannot ignore what you have done. It may benothing, just theweaknessof anoldman,but thenagain itmaybe somethingelse.’Ididn’tspeak.BythenIcouldhardlybelievewhatIwashearing.‘SoIwilltaketheseatontheCouncil,’hesaid.‘Iwilllistentowhattheyhavetosay.Andwhenithasbeenconsidered,Iwillcastmyvote.Consideryourtaskaccomplished–fornow.’Ifeltasurgeofjoywellupwithinme.Allwehadworkedfor,weekafterweekofdangeroustoil,hadpaidoff,atleastfornow.Icouldhavenocertainty that itwouldgoas intended,but Ihad the ineffablesense,justasbefore,ofrightness.Forthefirst timeinmylongcareer,perhapsever,IwasdoingsomethingthatItrulybelievedin.
‘Iwill ensureall ismade ready, lord,’ I said, slippingback intomywell-trodroleasfactotumtothepowerful.By then he was already reaching for his helm. His scarred face disappearedbehind the mask of gold, ending the brief sense that I had been talking tosomethingmorehumanthandemigod.‘Thenwewillspeakagain,’saidtheCaptain-General,takinghisspearupasifreadytouseit.‘Andletushopeyourvisiondoesnotleadusawry.’
VALERIAN
Ifeltmanythings,afterthatday.Shame,ofcourse.Evensomedegreeofanger,butmostlyconfusion.Heracleonwasnotgiventoflightsoffancy.EvenifIhadnotbeenpresentinhisvisionsashebelieved,Ishouldstillhavebeenabletocrossthethreshold.IwasoneoftheTenThousand–thatplacewasmyspiritualhome,andallofus,toonedegreeoranother,belongedthereintheend.AfterleavingthecatacombsIreturnedtomyduties.IparticipatedintheBloodGames. I resumed my meditations. I attended the rites of armour, blade andshield. I completed my study of the philosophy of Ustiandes of Thar, andconsignedmymonographtobestoredinthearchives.And yet the episode nagged at me. My sleep was disturbed. Every time Iblinked, it seemed, I would see thosemetaphysical chambers again, the greatironvanes,theancientfleshclingingtothebonesofoldermachines.Ifeltthatmy inability to enter must reflect some lack within me. In some way, as yetundetectedandundefined,Imusthavefailed.ThemostimmediateconsequenceoftheepisodewasthatIdidnotevenbeginpreparation for induction into theHataeronGuard.Heracleon visitedme onceseveraldayshadpassedandheldopenthepossibilityofreconsideration.Hetoldme the faultmayhavebeenhis, formisinterpreting thesymbols. Iappreciatedthat,butdidnotbelievehim.Inanyevent,weagreedthatforthetimebeingmyduty should remain as it had been – in theOuter Palace, as one of themanythousandswhoguardedthewallsagainsttheexternalenemy.Navradaran, too, visited me before his labours took him away again. I was
honouredtohavehadhisfriendshipatthattime.Perhaps,lookingatusfromtheoutside,youwillthinkourlivessomewhatcoldandunrelenting,buttheyarenotdevoidof thegreaterhumancharacteristics,andevensomeof thebaser.Therewere those of my brothers whom I disliked, and those whose fellowship Icherished.Navradaranwasoneofthelatter.IwasintheLibraryofAncientswhenhefoundme.IhadbeensoengrossedinthetomebeforemethatIonlyheardhisdistinctiveapproachfromthirtymetresaway,farlessthanwasrequiredbystandardbattle-readiness.HesawwhatIwasreading,raisedaneyebrow,thensatoppositeme.Allaroundus, thevast librarycontinued in its ancient rhythms– the shuffleof robes, thetickof iron-tipped fingers, the echoing thudofvolumesbeing replacedon thehighshelves.‘TheMasterofMankind,’Navradaran read, softly. ‘DiocletianExemplar.Youmusthavereaditmanytimes.’‘Justonce.Alongtimeago.’‘Doesitgiveyouanswers?’I slowly turned the great pages, each one a single sheet of thick velluminscribedinfadedinks.Thiswasacopyofacopyofacopy,yetstillmorethanfivethousandyearsold.‘It tells me that our service was not always like this,’ I said. ‘We were notalwaysfightingwithsilence.’Navradarannodded.‘Andyet,eventhen,therewaserror.’‘Withgreaterexcuse.’‘Wasthere?’Hesmiledfaintly.Hewasolder thanIwas,andhadthescars toshowit.Ididnotknowhowmanynameshehadinscribedontheinteriorofhisarmour,butIguessedtherewereagreatnumber.‘Wehavebecometoousedtoregret, I think,’ he said. ‘We have become too used to thinking that the timebeforewassomuchgreaterthanourown.Andyet,youarereading Diocletian.YoucanseethatevenbeforetheFailure,thereweredoubts.’‘WhenIthinkwhathasbeenlost–’‘–thenyoudonotrememberwhathasbeengained.’Navradaranplacedaheavygauntletonthepolishedwoodbetweenus.‘Theylivedinatimeofplenty,andweinatimeofstrife.Considerhowmuchgreaterourfaithmustbe,comparedtotheirs.’Thewordsdidnotbringmemuchcomfort,thoughneitherdidIwhollydisagreewiththem.I lookedupathim. ‘I couldnotpass. I sawwhat laywithin, and I couldnot
pass.’‘Iknow.’‘Whatdoesitmean?’‘Take it as a sign you are unworthy, and you only harmyourself.We are soreadytobelievethatwearenotgoodenough.’‘Becauseoncewe–’‘Once!Once, tenthousandyearsago,wewerefacedwithanimpossible task,andweperformedbetterthananycouldhaveeverdemanded.’Helaughed.‘Doyouknow,there issomeadvantagetospendingtimeoutsidethisplace?Ihavemetmenwithnodiscernibletalentwhobelievethemselveskings.Ihavemetthesickwhothinkthemselveshealthy,thewickedwhothinkthemselvesrighteous.Theyaresoweak,allofthem,weakaschaff,yettheydonottorturethemselveswithourdoubt.Theylive,theysquabble,theylaugh,theyblaspheme,andIhavecometothinkthatthis,somehow,isthegreatestsenseofall.’Icouldnothelpbutsmile.‘Youwillgobackoutthere,then,’Isaid.‘Ifinditinvigorating.’Helookedaroundhim.‘Moresothantheseplaces.’I could not agree with him then. Here, surrounded by the oldest words, theheavy-setparchments,thetheologyofthelongages,Ifeltatmygreatestpeace.Theuniverseoutsidewaslikeaninchoatesea,ephemeralandever-shifting,butin these sites were the eternal verities, warded and preserved forever. Therecouldbenomoresacredcallingthantokeepthissafe.‘GoinHiswill,then,’Isaid,reachingtoclasphishand.‘Asyou,brother,’hesaid,returningthegesture.‘Anddonotreadtoomuch.’
As it turned out, that did not prove a danger. From that point onwards, I hadpreciouslittletimeforanykindofstudy.IrememberedmymeetingwiththemortalTieron.Hehadbeenagitatedwhenwe had spoken, no doubt with much reason. What I did not appreciateimmediatelywasquitehowfarthatagitationhadspread.We,inourprivilegedechelons,knewoftheworseningwarattheCadianGate.Piece by piece, we became slowly aware of the disaster on the Planet of theWolves. The Captain-General was detained much with consideration of bothgreatbattlezones,aswellasmanyotheroldercampaigns,anditwassaidthenthathespokeat lengthwith theservingHighLordson theprovisionsmade tocontainthem.Thetwotribuneswerekeptinformed,andintheirownwaysmadepreparationforwhatmightcomenext.Idonotknowhowwordofthisspreadbeyondthewalls.Weliveinagalaxyof
uncertaincommunication,wherethescreamsofabillionvoicesmightdisappearintothevoidwhileasinglewhispertravelssecurelytoitsdestination.Eventhegreatest were capable of having their judgement blunted by such extremevariationsintransmissionfailure,andyetIneverfailedtobeastonishedathowthe rumour ofwar could spread even among the least educated.Like rats, thepopulacesomehowknew.Wedidwhatwecould,astheguardiansofthespecies,toward our charges from hearing harmful tidings, but our efforts failedmoreoftenthannot.Ofcourse,itwascertainthattheEnemyhadahandinsuchdissemination.Wewere not so blind thatwe discounted the presence of seditious cells onTerra.Howevermanyinquisitorswedeployed,though,andhowevermanypyrestheyconstructed,therewerealwaysmoretraitorswaitingtotaketheirplace.ForallNavradaranadmiredthemortalhumanspirit,itwasalsocapableoftrulypatheticweakness.Andso,almostassoonasweknewitourselves,wordoftheworseningstateofthewarbegantofilter,bysomestrangeprocessofosmosis,intotheslumsandthehive-towers.Theenforcersweresoonrunraggedtrying tokeepupwith it.We received tidings of more rioting across the southern hemispheric zones,fuelled by both panic and long-stoked resentments. The downtroddenimpoverishedcouldputupwithmuchiftheybelievedthattheImperiumcouldat leastkeepthemsafe;oncetheylost thatsense,ourgripontheir loyaltywasloosened.MyfirstdirectexperienceofthiscametwodaysafterNavradaranhadleftthePalace. Tribune Italeo requestedmy presence at the south-eastern wall-zones,following entreaties made to him by the regular garrison commanders. TheseweretheOuterPalacewalls,youunderstand,runningaroundthegiganticestatesforhundredsofkilometres.Evenifalltenthousandofmybrothershadpatrolledthose walls there would still have been gaping swathes of emptiness, and soinstead many regiments of psycho-conditioned mortal soldiers were used tobolster our limited numbers. Some were drawn from regiments famed in theoutside Imperium, such as the Lucifer Blacks, while others were virtuallyunknownoutsideTerra,likethewhite-robedPalatineSentinels.Iansweredthecall,andwasmetatthelandingsitebythecaptainofthe156thregiment, theTrammanStandards, amanwith a namebadge readingLeovineWerrish.Wearrangedourrendezvousjustinsidethevastconcavesweepofthecurtainwall,thewidelandingsitefallingunderitsshadowasthesunstruggledtoclimbovertheeasternhorizon.Aboveus,thegreyscreenofTerra’sunquiet
skieschurnedaway,andhot-ashwinddancedaroundus.Hedidhisbestnottobedauntedbymypresence.Evenforthosewhoservedwithin thesacredconfinesof thePalace, though,wewerea rareand imposingsight.‘MylordCustodian,’hesaid,kneeling.Whenhe roseagain Icouldseehowdrawnhis facewas.Hehad thekindoffatigue that only comes from long periods of near-constant action withoutrespite,thekindthatgetsintothebonesandneverloosensitsbite.‘Theytellmeyouarehavingtrouble,captain,’Isaid.‘Idon’tknowwhereitallcomesfrom,’hesaid,tootiredtomakeanyattempttohidethescaleoftheproblem.Infact,Icouldhearthesizeofitformyself–adull rolling roar from the far side of the massive walls, the telltale sound ofthousandsofvoicesraisedinanger.‘There’samadnessoutthere.’‘Youhavedoneyourbest,Iamsure.’Helookedhollowedout.‘I’mgladyou’rewithus,lord.Will…ah,therestofyourdetachmentbeheresoon?’IfIsmiledatthathewouldnothaveseenit,forIwaswearingmyfullpanoplyof war and my face was enclosed in gold. There was no detachment. It wasunusual for us even to consider deploying as a ‘detachment’ – my chamberwouldcomewithmewhentheywerecalled,buttheneedforthatwasrareandIwould only consider summoning them in the utmost extremity. He could notpossiblyknowthat,though.PerhapshehadservedwiththeAngelsofDeathinsomeotherwarzone,andhadseenhowtheyusedtheirbondsofbrotherhoodtomultiplytheiruniqueprowess,anditwaslogicalenoughforhimtoassumethatweoperatedinthesamefashion.‘Letusseethis,then,’wasallIsaid.Hebowedhastily, signalledhisdeparture toanescortof thirtyequallywearystaff officers, and the two of us moved to where my Talion grav-lander waswaitingon theapron. I took thepilot’sseat,andWerrishstrappedhimself intothecounterpart,lookingludicrouslysmallamongrestraintstrappingdesignedforoneofmykind.Weliftedoff,andheadedforanegressgatebuiltintothewall’sstructure.Foralittlewhile,allwehadaheadofuswas thegentlycurvingslopeofpureblackadamantium. Stepswere carved every two hundredmetres, zigzagging up thewindswept face towards the walkway at the top – thirty metres across andovershadowedbyahigh,embattledparapet.Defencetowersloomedathundred-metre intervals, massive gun-citadels crowned with lascannons and heavy
bolters,allangledoutwardsintothecityscapebeyond.Then the egress gate opened – twin blast doors sliding apart to reveal theglowing red innardsof thewall itself.Wepassedwithin,andsaw the racksofattack craft hanging from launch-cages within the dimly lit interior, then theammunitiontrainsfor thetowersabove, thenthestrobingpowerbeamsfor thevoidshielding.Thewallherewaslessofasolidbarrierthananincrediblylargecontiguousfortress,onethatwasgarrisonedandactiveandhometohundredsofthousands.Thegateopenedonthefarside,andtheTalionemergedinto thedullgreyoftheTerrandawn.Thelandscapebeyondthewallswasopen,scouredoftheusualhard press of hab-towers and hive spires by ancient ordinances prohibitingbuildingrightuptotheancientwall-line.Inthatrarestofthingsonthisworld–openspace–thousandsofpeoplehadgathered.Theywerechantingsomethingin semi-unison, mobbing the walls in stages before falling back. I could seeWerrish’s troopsdownamong them,holding the tideback in thin linesofpalegrey.Therewasnoriskofsucharabblepenetratingthewallthemselves.Thedangerwas that theywould overrun the urban zone leading back from the perimeter,triggeringadegradationof the securecordonandmakingclearanceoperationsnecessary.Evenfromtheflyer’sclosedcockpitIcouldtastemaniaintheair,astenchthatrosehigherthanthefervidchants.Theskyaboveuswas,asever,filledwithaircraft,addingtheirowncontrailstothe filmof soot thathungoverus. I could seeArbites scrutiny landersamongthem, hoveringwatchfully. Beyond the disturbance rose the behemoths of theeternalcity,a jungleofbothsqualorandmagnificence.Glancingaheadat it, Isuddenlyhadavisionofdrytinder,heapsofit,piledupagainstthefoundationsofourwalls,readyforthespark.‘That crowd is preparing to charge your men,’ I observed, noting a basicswarm-patterndevelopingamidthemobs.Werrishnoddedwearily.‘I’llorderanothervolley.Wehaveairsupportnow.’Hehadorderedhisforceslogically.Theywerespreadoutinalongraggedlineagainst the base of the wall, with reserve units dug in on either flank. Theylookedtobeequippedwithlasgunsforthemostpart,andevidenceoftheirusewas everywhere – a tidemark of bodies where the crowd had last pushed upagainstthem.Ibroughtthelanderdowntowardsgroundlevel.Icouldseetheleadersoftherabblenow,stirringthecrowdsuptochargeatthehatedbringersofdiscipline.
Some of the mob were carrying burning braziers, others power staves thatsnappedwith faintcurlsofplasma.Oneof themwaswearingpaleblue robes,streakedwithdustanddirt.Hiseyeswereblank, likepearls,andhisbaldpatehadafalsethirdeyedaubedacrossit.Thingswere escalating. The throngswere furious, and a greatmany of theirnumberhadalreadybeenshot.IestimatedperhapseightthousandwerepresentversusafewhundredofWerrish’ssoldiers.Mostofthefront-rankrioterswoulddie in a rush, but a lasgun could only down so many before its bearer wasoverwhelmed.Thesenselessnessofitsaddenedme.Thosegatheredtherecouldhavehadnotrue idea what they were rioting about; their latent rage and fear had beenwhippedupbymorecynicalsouls.Thechantsroseinvolume.Thebraziersspatwith dirty flame. The skies above us ran with the faint crackle of lightning,lancing from the turninggyreover theSanctum Imperialis. Itwasall ready toexplode.‘Donotfire,’ItoldWerrish,bringingtheflyereverlowerandmakingthedustskitterinthedowndraught.‘Killthesethousandstoday,andtherewillbetensofthousandstomorrow.Tellyourtroopstoholdposition.’I set the flyer’smachine-spirit to override, opened the cockpit blister, pulledfreeoftheseatandleaptearthwards.Wewereonlyamatterofmetresfromtheground by then. I dropped to one knee on impact, then rose up smoothly andbegantowalk.Iwas surroundedonevery side.For a fewmoments, Iwentunimpeded.Theclosestofthemortalsstaredatme,open-mouthed.Thenthemoreperspicacious,recognisingslowlywhatIwas,startedtoshoutinalarm,thentorun,tofallontheir faces, to stumble and panic. More turned and fled, shoving their waythroughtheresttogetaway.Thevastcrowdbegantofoldinonitself,suddenlyrivenbyinexplicableterroratitsheart.I paid them no attention. They were like a swarm of insects – huge butincapableofdoingmeharm.Manywerenotevenproperlyarmed,justcarryingmachine tools or improvised spears, and their screaming turned swiftly fromanger to terror. Some even cried out words of desperate repentance, sobbingfranticallyandtryingtotouchmycloak,thoughthebulkofthemmerelywishedtogetawayfrommeasfastastheycould.I knew the Angels of Death had an expression for this phenomenon –transhuman dread, they called it. If anything, our order possessed the greaterpowerinthatregard,amplifiedbyourstature,ourrarity,theesotericimageryof
ourgoldenarmour.Icouldhavekilledsomanyofthemthen,ifI’dwantedto.Icouldhavewaded into those reeling ranksandhandeddown the judgementoftheEmperoruntilthemanythousandswereallbrokenatmyfeet.Ididnoneofthosethings.Killingiseasy.OurImperiumhasstagnatedinmanywaysandyetwehavebecomesuchexpertsintheapplicationofviolencethattoendalifehasbecomeastrivialandascommonplaceasclearingathroat.Ihadnocompunctionoverusingmypowerwhen itwasnecessary,butneitherdidIshare the zeal for destruction that so many of the Throne’s own servantsexhibited. If it had been possible to solve our many problems through thecontinual application of unrestrained force, then youwould have thought thatover ten thousand years of trying it we might have had some rather betteroutcomes.I reached the locationof theonewhocontrolled them, themanwith theeye-mark.His bodyguards fell away from him as I approached, scrambling to getclear.Oneofthemchokedonhisfear,othersvoidedtheirbladdersevenastheyran.Themanhimselfwasshaking,barelyabletoremaininpositiontofaceme,hisfaceconvulsingjerkilywithanattemptatdefiance.Hecarriedsomekindofstaffbedeckedwithfeathers.Ihadnoideawherehemighthaveobtainedfeathers–realoneswerenotgenerallytobefoundintheslumsofTerra.‘Heretokillmethen,goldenone?’themancried,andhisstrainedvoicegaveawayhiscripplingterror.Itwouldhavebeentheworkofbutamoment.‘Whyareyoudoingthis?’Iasked,quietly.Hecouldbarelymeetmygaze.Hisskinwasglossywithsweat.‘Theendiscomingforyou!’heblurted,wild-eyednow.‘Ihavebeenshownit!’‘Whyareyoudoingthis?’Iaskedagain,withjustthesameinflection.Hestartedtolosehislastsliversofself-command.‘Becauseyoucan’tprotectus,’hehissed.‘They’llsweepyouaway.They’llsweepitallaway!’Hiseyeslostfocus.‘Whatdidhetellme?The…path.Itisopeningnow.’Iwas aware of a hundred things aroundme.Men andwomenwere running,surging around us, trying to get back into the hab-zones. The braziers hadtoppled. The flyers still hovered, their guns trained but silent. The entireoffensivehaddissolvedintopanickedretreat,testamentbothtoitsfragilityandtotheresidualauthorityoftheThrone.‘The Gate has already fallen,’ he went on, raving now in both fear andexcitement.‘Youknowthat?Hasitgotbacktoyourdeafandblindmastersyet?’
‘Whotoldyouthesethings?’Iasked.Hestarted to laugh,and the soundhadanedgeof frenzy to it. ‘Whatdoes itmatter toyou?Youaredeaf to thosevoices.Youaredeaf toall livingvoices.Thedeadcannotstandagainst theliving.Youhearme?Thedeadcannotstandagainsttheliving!’Thetwoofuswerelikeasmallislandofstabilityamidaworldofmotion.Thisamateur assaultwas over, but thatmeant little in thewider scheme of things.Moremobswould come, larger ones, stirred up bymadness such as this, andtherewerenotenoughofus tobreakthemall.Weneededtodiscovermoreoftheirorigin.‘Comewithme,’Isaid.Hestaredatme,horrified.‘No,’hesaid,inasmallervoice.‘Youhavecommittedgreatsins.’Ineverliftedmyvoiceaboveamurmur,buthelostwhatlittlecomposurehe’dhad,then.Tearsstartedinhiseyes.‘Ihave,though,’heconfessed,wonderingly,asifonlyjustseeingit.‘Ihavecommittedgreatsins.’‘Therearewaystoatoneforthem,’Isaid.Hetookafalteringsteptowardsme,blinking,staring.‘Oh,bytheThrone,’hemumbled,dispirited.‘Butallthesethingsareended.’Isummonedtheflyer,andamomentlaterhearditsenginesoverhead.Werrishwasstillonboard,andlookedstartledtoseemeconversingwiththeheretic.I gestured towards the open cockpit door.Meekly, haltingly, theman let hisstaff fall from his hands, then made his way to the compartment at the rear,moving as if in a stupor. I sealed the door behind him, then went back toWerrish.‘The machine-spirit will take you back,’ I said. ‘Deliver him to the OrdoHereticuswatchdivisioninyoursector.Explainthemannerofhiscapture.TellthemIwishtostudytheirreportonhimwhenitisdone.’Werrish nodded. His eyes flickered to the retreating crowds, still out in theopen,allwithinrangeofhisguns.‘Andtherest?’heasked.I followedhisgaze. I could see themscampering, stumbling, their eyeswidewithfear.AccordingtotheLexImperialis,allofthemweretraitors.‘Letthemgo.’‘Theirexecutionsarewarranted,’heventured,carefully.‘Theywere fools andweaklings,’ I said. ‘Do not become too fond of killingsuch,captain.’Then I flicked a finger, and the flyer rose up, twisting on a column of
superheated air, before headingback towards the still-open egress gate, takingWerrishandtheweepinghereticwithit.Iturnedbacktowardstheeternalcity,aplaceIhadbarelyventuredintosincemyascension. I couldnotquitebelievehowdirty itwas,upclose. It smeltofconfinement.Theywerestillrunningfromme.IrememberedNavradaran’swords.Thereissomeadvantagetospendingtimeoutsidethisplace.ThenIlookedbackovermyshoulderatthewall,soaringhighaboveeventhegreatestof thecity’s towers.Itsoutersurface,darkasjet,wasstillscoredwithantiquatedwounds.Even thenewest sectionswerealmostnine thousandyearsold; some parts were as old as the Imperium itself. They looked utterlyindomitable,thekindofbarrierthatarmieswouldshatteragainstforeternity.Icouldjustmakeoutthegreatestofthestructureshousedwithin.TheSanctumImperialis itself, the apexofour entire existence,was like adistantmountain,hazywithmist.TheTowerofHeroeswasaslenderverticallineofgreyagainstastormyhorizon.It isacurious thing, towitnessone’shomefromtheoutside, tosee itas theydid. I had always supposed that they must have felt excluded, the masses ofTerra,shutoutfromthemagnificenceandforeverscratchingupagainstcloseddoorslikefamishedwaifs.ButjustthenIsuddenlysawitinadifferentaspect.Theyhadbeenterrifiedofme.IwastheclosestlivingembodimentoftheEmperor’ssoul,andtheyhadrunfrommescreaming.Perhapstheysawthewallsnotasthebarrierthatkeptthemfrom getting into the Palace, but the barrier that kept us from getting out.Perhaps they saw it not as an impediment to their movement, but as ournecessarycage.Icouldsee thatnow.Icouldsee thehighwallsand theage-darkened towers,and it looked like nothing quite somuch as a prison, vast and old, sealing itsterribleheartclosedlikelayersofrockcretethrownupoveralethalreactor.Ihadtogobackinside.Mydutiesweremany,andalreadyIcoulddetectmind-impulsequeriesandcommandsfromtheTowerofHegemon.WhenIturnedtowalkback,though,mybootsfeltheavy,asifIwerewalkingthroughsand.Thesensewaseasytoshakeoff,andIstartedtomove.ButIhadfeltit,allthesame.
ALEYA
Ihadneverknownthewarplikeit.Travelhadalwaysbeendifficultbetweenthestars,andoverthepastfewyearsIhadbeentoldmanytimesbymanydifferentNavigatorsthatithadbeengettingsteadilyworse.Mostofthethingstheytoldmeabout,theethereddiesandthesurge-tunnels,madenosenseatalltome,butIcouldcertainlyfeelthehammeringourvesselstookastheyrattledthroughtheempyrean.Onprevious journeysIhadoftenwonderedwhatwouldhavehappened if I’dliftedthewarpshuttersandgazedatit,liketheNavigatorsdo.Anormalhumanwouldhavebeendrivenmadinseconds,theysaid.Butthennormalhumanshadsouls, and thus the psychic realmwas intelligible to them.Whatwould I see?Nothing?Legionsofdaemons?Thetrueessenceofthewarpitself?I’dneverbeensufficientlycurioustofindout.Thechanceswerethatthesightwouldhavebeenfataltomeinonewayoranother–pariahornot,theempyreanwasnoplacetolingerinorgazeupon,notifyouwantedtokeepyoursanity.Now,though,Iwashalftemptedagain.Thedecksofthe Cadamarawerelikedrumskins,resonatinginawaythatputmyteethonedge.We’dalreadylostoneofoursecondarydrivetrains,droppingourspeedthroughthegalacticmireandamplifyingeverycrashandslewthattheunquietabyssimposedonus.I staggered down teetering corridors, feeling queasy from the weeks-longincessantmovement.Therewas some irony to that – I spentmost ofmy timemakingothersnauseous,andnowhadsomesympathyforhowthatfelt.My senseofdislocationhadanother cause.For awhile after returning to theshipIhadrefusedtomourn,preferringtochannelmyenergyintoactivity.Asthe
strange days in the ether had lengthened, though, my thoughts had turnedincreasinglytowhathadbeenlost.Ihad lovedmysisters. Itwasafierce,almostdesperatekindof love,bornofthefactthatwesharedsuchauniquebond.Allofuscouldrememberthetimewhenwehadbeendragged into theconvent, filthyandstarving,moreused toblows thanwords of explanation, and then slowly realised that this placewassafe, and that it had been made for us, and that we were not alone in theuniverse.Itwasnotacomfortableexistence.Weweretrained,sometimesbrutally.Hestiawasnotmotivatedby anybenevolent sense of care, but by a pitiless vocationrootedinancientdoctrine.Somewhofoundtheirwayintotheconventdiedsoonafterwards, at times from exhaustion, at times by taking their own life. Thosewhosurvivedbecamestrongerinbothbodyandmind.Welearnedsecretsaboutthe universe, ones that would have been our death sentence if ever utteredoutsidethewallsofthatplace.Beforewe took our vowof tranquility,we spoke and chattered and gossipedjustasall juvenilesdid.Weeven laughed,wheneverour regulateddayswouldallow,sharingprivatejestsaboutourhumourlessinstructors.Evenoncethetimeforspokenwordshadpassed,westill shared thosebonds.Thoughtmark, in itsfullest form,wasanexpressive language, insomewaysmoreso thanstandardspeech, and the friendships I made were all the stronger for the adversity inwhichtheyhadbeenforged.NowIcouldonly recall their faces–Erynn,Catale,Ruja–bloodiedby theiruntimelydeaths.Thememoryofthatwaslikeawound,gapingandblood-raw,takingmerightbacktomyearliestdaysasahuntedinfant,unabletounderstandwhythewholeworldseemedintentoncausingmeharm.I could share that grief with no one. I was as alone as I had ever been,surroundedonlybythebesoulled,whocouldneverunderstandthatitishardforourkindtobeisolated.Wehavelesstodrawoninternallythanothers,andthegreat irony of our self-imposed seclusion is that we need human fellowshipmore,forittemporarilyfillsthevoidlurkingwithinourownhearts.IbegantodreadwhatIwouldfindwhenwefinallyarrivedattheThroneworld.Iwasundernoillusionsthatthejourneywouldbeeasy,oreventhatwewouldmake itatall.Hestiahadonce toldme that thepilgrim-routewasonly for thedeluded,andthatthechancesofreachingHolyTerraasanindividualweretiny.NowthattheHighLordsseeminglywishedtoforgetallabouttheSisterhoodofSilence–howIhatedthatname!–wecouldbesureofnospecialtreatmentto
easeourpassage.ButIpushedtheshiponwards,keepingitatthelimitofitspower,ignoringthewarningsofSlovoandhisacolytestorespecttheturbulenceofthewarp.Inmymind,thethreethingsweresurelylinked.TheOldLegionsmakingtheirreturn,thetargetingoftheconvent,thegatheringstormintheether.Youdidnotneedtobeaseertorealisethatsomenewalignmentwasinprogress,andthatwehad struggled on for too longwith the oldwayswhen their efficacy had longsinceceased.Isubsumedeverythingelsetothisnewgoal.ItookmygriefandImadeitintoaweapon,justaswehadbeentrainedtodo.IfIhadtobreaktheCadamaraapartto do it, I would still make it to the golden spires of the shrine world anddiscoverjustwhatLokkhadseenbeforehedied.Perhaps I should have listened toSlovo’swarnings, but then temperancehadneverbeenmystrongpoint,and,asHestiahadalwaystoldme,thereisgreaterpowerinrighteouswraththaninmeekacceptance.
I staggered. Something had hit us hard. That, I thought, was impossible.Weweredeepinthewarp,andtherewerenophysicalobjectstohit.Then I saw the alert rune, and started to run. Iwas inmy armour, aswe allwere–voidpassagewassoperilousnowthatIhadinstructedthecrewtoremainbattle-preparedatalltimes.We were hit again. It felt like some enormous closed fist had rammed usamidships,sendingtheshipswingingrounditscentreofgravity.AsIclosedinonSlovo’ssanctum,highupinthespineoftheship,Iheardthescreams.Hischamberswereentirelysealedoff fromthemainstructureduringwarppassage,thebettertoinsulatehimduringthearduousprocessofguidance.Ireachedthefirstoftheheavydoorsandpunchedtheaccesscodeshurriedly.Allthe while I could hear booms shuddering down the superstructure, loud andgettinglouder.Thedoorsheavedopen,andIsmeltthestaleairofthesanctum’sinteriorasitwashed over me. The lumens were erratic, blinking across dirty bulkheads. Iplunged inside, and saw a pair of acolytes holding their temples andweepingwhat looked likeblood.Theyweremenials fromHouseRehata,ungiftedwiththeSeeingEye,andtheywerewailinglikeslaughteredporcines.I heard Slovo crying out from further inside. The chamberswere low-roofedand braced with heavy bands of adamantium. The whole place looked like amilitarybunker,solidandunbreakable.
Butitwasbreakingnow.Crackshadalreadyshotuptheinnerwalls,shiveringwithreleasedenergy.IranthroughthemazetoSlovo’sinnerdomain,asphereofironlodgedwithintheship’shull,accessibleonlybyasinglemetalgantryoveramoatofoil.AsIcrossed,Icouldseemorebreaches,poppingwithlightningthatcurledanddancedacrossthevoid.AsInearedtheportalitblewopen,sendingacloudofnoxiousgasboilingoutatme.Slovohimselfstaggeredintoview,hisskinwetwithwhateverfluidshe’dimmersedhimselfin,cablesstilltrailingfromintravenouslinesinhisarms.‘Getusout!’hegasped,hismortaleyesstaringandbloodshot.Thankfullyhe’dmanaged towrapuphis deadlySeeingEye, though the rest of his robeswereonlylooselyhangingfromhisscrawnybody.‘Getusout!’I punched the runes through toErefan – Immediate crash out ofwarp–andmovedtohelpSlovo.Hepushedmeaway,teeteringonthegantry’srailing.Hewaswild, barely seeingwhatwas around him, and he too had lines of bloodrunningfromhisnostrils.‘They’re getting in,’ he hissed, drooling. ‘The field’s breaking down.Get usout!’Looking over his reeling shoulder, I could just make out the disarray in thesphere – the nutrient tankhe floated inwas filthy and leaking, and the cableshanging like spider’s limbs from the roof were sending spears of electricityscattering across the interior. I grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled himawayfromit,backingupalongthegantry.IcouldalreadyhearthealertklaxonsasErefan did as hewas asked. The ship shookwildly, blowingmore lumens,then seemed to drop vertiginously, as if falling through a placewhere gravitystillexisted.Igesturedfuriouslyathim–Whathappened?–buthewasblindtome.ThenIsawsomethingmoveoutofthecornerofmyeye.Morelightsshattered,plungingthespaceintoflickeringshadow.Itlooked–butthiswasimpossible–as if the walls were draining down like viscous fluid, sliding off the ship’ssubstructureandpoolingintoasloughofmoltensteel.IdraggedSlovotherestoftheway,backtotheblastdoorsandintothewarrenof chambers beyond. He clawed at me, jabbering something about theimpossibility of aGeller field losing integrity and justwhat took place if thathappened, and how they were coming and they were getting inside and theyknewwhowewereandwhereweweregoing.My heartwas thumping hard. Therewere noises echoing up from the bilgesbelowus,distortedandshrieking.ForamomentIthoughtthismightbewhatthe
warp itself sounded like, some terrible snapshot into an infinity of agonisedsouls,beforethe Cadamarabuckedagain,thrownawayfromitsventralaxis.Inner panels punched inwards, power lines exploded, armourglass suddenlyfrostedwith impact-patterns. Iheard freshalarmsgoingoff,andastatuspanelabovemeflashedrunesindicatingweweretumblingbackintorealspace.Wereachedtheroomwiththemenialsinit.Onewasslumpedonthedeckfacedown,apoolofbloodslowlyformingunderherface.Theother,amale,wasstillonhisfeet,twitchingmadlyagainstthefarwallasifimpaledonit.The vibrations from the hull were dying down now, and the worst of thelurchingsubsided,butweremained inawhirling lumen-patternof intermittentdarkness.Icouldbarelyseeanythingwithclarity–freeze-frameimagesofbloodandterrorjumpedaroundbeforeme.‘Areweout?’hissedSlovo,clutchingatmycloak.Ididn’tanswer.Ipushedhimawayfrommeandreachedformyflamer.Thestandingmenialwasgrinningatme.Hewasgrinningsowidethatit toretheedgesofhismouth.Everyflashofswayinglightmadethatgrinbiggeranddarker, and as I watched, he reached up to his mouth, pushed a hand inside,grabbedhistongue,andbegantopull.I slippedmyhand over the trigger. Something long and black and glisteningcameoutofhismouth,andjustkeptcoming.I openedup the flamer. I saw theman screamandwrithewithin the shakingtorrentofextremeheat.Hisrobesignitedinaburst,hisskincrispedtoblack,butIkeptuptheroaringinferno.Isawsomethingslimyandoil-darkcurlupamidthe flames, coiling for the strike. I heard fractured screaming as if frommanyplacesatonce,noneofthemhere.Ireachedformyswordjustasitleaptforme,amassofprehensilelimbsandwickedspines. I lashedout, severingoneof the tentacles, thenspunaround toplungemybladeintothepolypoffleshatitsheart.Itshriekedandclutchedatme, trying to smother me in waves of sinuous gristle, but by then I was incombat-trance,beyondmortalsenses,movingfasterandharderandworkingmybladeinawhirlofpressedsteel.Thiswasshedim.Thatshouldhavebeenimpossible,givenourGelleraegis,butitwashere,ontheship.Icouldsmellitsstink–therottingofthehumanfleshithadtakenforitsown,pulledapartandremade.Icarveditopen.Itlashedatme,tryingtodragmedown,butbythenIwasatongueofflame,ahowloftheworld’swind.Myswordgyrated,andslopsofitsunnaturalbodythuddedtothedeck,stilljerking.
‘Anathema psykana,’ it whispered tome, rearing up in obscenemockery ofphysical law, growing into a tentacled slab of muscle and mucus. I saw itshundredsofeyesstareatme–hundredsofidenticalhumaneyes,copiedfromitshost,repletewithlidsandlashesandtears.Itsmouthhadneverstoppedgrowing,and was now a huge and ragged maw lined with teeth, flapping and saliva-flecked.‘Alone?Alone,outhere?Iwillrelishturningyouinsideout!’Ineverlistened.Amortalhadtostrugglenottolistentotheshedim,butnotme.Thisthingwasanunbearablehorrortoamortal,atemptationbeyondendurance,butformeitwasmerelydisgustinganddangerous, likeasnakefoundunderapillow,somethingtostampon.Iplungedmybladeintoitsmouthandsnickereditacrossthoseteeth,yankingthemoutofblackgums.Idancedharder,duckingundertheflailoftentaclesandseveringthosethatcameclose.Ifeltitsstingonmyarmour,thesuckingpullofwarp-spunstrands,andslashedmyselffree.The thinghadaheart, it had lungs and it hadorgans, all pulledoutof shapefromitshostbutstillnecessaryforitinthisplace.Idelvedtofindthem,cuttinglikeasurgeon.WhenIreachedmytargetthebladedroveindeep,sendingajetofink-blackbloodfountainingoverbothofus.IcutandIcut,wadingintothebellyofthecreaturetoseveritsessencebeforeitcouldregeneratemore.ItscreamedallthewhileuntilIsawedoutitsswollenlungs,grabbingthesacsofpusandfoulgasandhurlingthemmessilytothedeck.IrippeditsgulletfromitsthroatandIburstitsflaccidstomachwithastampofmyboot,andthatfinallyshutitup.Thentherestofitexploded,blownapartbytheviolenceofmyassault,flyinginto scraps of torn fat and spittle. My armour was coated in it, my swordsopping,myloosehaircaked.Ienduredthedeluge,waitingfortherainofslopstosubside.Thechamberwasrancid now. The corpse of the secondmenialwas almost lost under a pile ofsteamingviscera.Slovocoweredinthecorner,scratchingatthecloseddoor,hiseyesstillstaringinthestop-startlumenglare.Ihad tobesure. I rooted through theremnantsof thekill,bladeat theready.They were vicious things, always, and could revive after cursorily lethalamountsofpunishmentifyouwereunwary.Themainlumenscamebackon,strongerthistime.Iheardtherapidclatterofbootsfromthecorridorsoutside,andguessedthatErefanhadstabilisedtheshipandsentasecuritydetailtoaidme.Abitlate,Ithought,butatleastwe’refullyintorealspace.
I turned to faceSlovo. Imust have looked half-daemonicmyself, caked in askinofblackinkybloodandscales.Hewasinbadshape,butIwasinnomoodtogoeasyonhim.Answers,Isigned,andItrulythinkthatcommandwasthethingthatscaredhimmostofall.
Perhaps I shouldhavebeenmore sympathetic.Even foraNavigator,onewhostaresintotheabyssasavocation,itisveryhardtolookuponatrueinstantiatedshedim. Up close, they are the weft of nightmares, and they send the mortalmindintoparoxysm.Therestofthecrewwerelittlebetter.Erefan’sdetailskiddedintothechamberwiththeirgunsdrawnandweresoongaggingandvomitingandtryingtokeeptheirbowelsundercontrol.Theyweren’tparticularlycowardlyorfoolish, theywerejusthuman,andsoweren’tdesignedtobeconfrontedbyadenizenoftheundilutedether.I understood too that we were all of us seeing very different things. Iexperiencedtheshedim,thedaemon,initscorporealaspectonly–thematterithad taken and reshaped from the unfortunate acolyte and turned into its newbody.Thatwashorrificenough,inabiologicalkindofway,butitdidn’tpossessany further terror foroneofmyexperience.Thebesoulled,on theotherhand,couldperceiveitspsychicaspecttoo,andthat–Iwastold–waswherethetruefearlay.Eventhesmellofitcouldevokethatcrushingsenseofnauseaanddreadthatmadethemlosetheirmindsandsurrendercontrolovertheirbodies,andthesightwastentimesworse.Humansfoundsoverymuchinthegalaxyuniquelyrepulsive–thepariahanddaemon and the xenos. I sometimes wondered how the fragile creatures everlivedlongenoughtobreed.Iordered thesoldiersout,and theywere justaboutable tounderstandbattle-signenoughtocomply.ThenIwipedtheichorfrommyhelmanddroppeddowntolookatSlovo.Hewascomingaround.Iguessedthatbeingrippedfromthewarp-trancemadeitdoublydifficult,butIneededtoknowwhatwasgoingon.Cleanyourself,Isignedtohimagain.Fiveminutes.I pulledhim tohis feet andhelpedhimwalkout of there. I sealed thedoorsbehindus,handedhimovertohisownsurvivingHousemenialsandwenttofindahose.Fiveminutes later I was sitting opposite him in one of the ship’s lead-lined
interrogation chambers,with Erefan present too. The three of us sat around abolted-downtableandtriedtoignorethestenchemanatingfromtwoofus.‘Icouldn’tbelieveit,’Slovostarted,hiseyesflickeringbetweenErefanandme.He had calmed down a lot, but was still febrile. ‘I don’t even know how todescribeit.’‘Try,please,’saidErefansourly.Thecaptainhaddonewell tobringusoutofthewarpsoquicklywithoutscatteringthehullacrossaswathofspace-time,buthewasn’thappythathe’dhadto.Slovodrewinamiserablebreath.‘Thewarp’sgrowing,’hesaid.Ididn’t understandhow that couldbepossible.Thewarp, I hadalwaysbeentold,wasamirrorofreality–theonewasthesizeoftheother.‘Very,verybad,’Slovowenton.‘Waswatchingithappen–tearingspacelikeasheet of paper.We were heading right down the fault line. It blew the outeraegis.Icouldhearthem.Throne,Icouldhearthem.’‘Can’tyoualwayshearthem?’askedErefan.‘Notlikethis.’Slovolookedupatme.‘Theyknewyouwerehere.Theyweresmashingupagainst thehull toget toyou.Therewerehundredsof them.’Heshookhishead.‘Wehadtodropoutofit.Idon’tknowhowlongwehad–afewsecondsmore.’Butonegotthrough,Isigned.‘Just as we dropped to real space,’ Slovo nodded. ‘Must have done it then.Caughtonthewrongside,anditwasweakbythen.’Erefanturnedtome.‘TheGellerarray’sinabadstate,’hesaid.‘Wehavealotofburned-outrelays.It’lltakeawhiletorepowerit.’ItwouldhavebeengoodtohavebeenabletouseThoughtmarkthen,toaskthekindofsubtlequestionsIneededtoask.Iwantedtoknowmoreaboutwhatwasgoingon.‘It’slike…arift,’Slovosaid,hisvoicefullofforeboding.‘Acrack.Acanyon.It’sgrowing.’‘Idon’tknowwhatthatmeans,’saidErefan.Slovobarkedahoarselaugh.‘Idon’tknoweither,captain.I’mtryingtomakesenseofwhatIsaw.’Hepressedhishandstogether,tryingtostopthemshaking.‘Itfelt…asifthewholegalaxywerebreakingapartdownthemiddle.Isawtheedge of it, dropping into a deeper void. I saw the light running out of theuniverse.Leakingoutofit.’Ileanedforwards.TheBeacon?Isigned.
‘TheAstronomican? It’s damned faint.Damned faint.We lost it for awhile,backthere,butIcouldjustaboutlockonbeforetheaegisstartedtocrack.’I felt impatiencegrowing.Slovowas in shock, thatwasclear,but Ihad littlepatienceforhisweakness.Hehadatask,andIneededhimtofulfilit.IturnedtoErefan.Howlong?Isigned.‘Icanget thewarpdrivesbackonlineinafewhours.We’vetakensomehulldamage,butnothing the servitors can’tpatch. It’s theGeller field thatworriesme.’‘Wecan’tgobackinthere,’saidSlovo,vehemently.‘They’lltearusapart.Theyknowyou’rehere,andtheyhateyou.’Irememberedthestarmap,withitslinesofsnakingwarpchannels.Itfeltthenasiftheuniversewerefallingintosomelong-arrangedconfiguration,itstectonicplatesshifting,andwewerecaughtintheheartofit.‘Andtheyknowwhatwe’redoing,’Slovowenton,ramblingnow.‘Theyknowwherewe’regoing,andthey’llbreakusopentopreventit.’I could have silenced him. Some battle-sign gestureswere physically painfulforanuntrainedrecipient,andIcouldhavegummedthoselips togethereasily,butIthoughtitbesttolethimgetitoutofhissystem.‘Ithinkit’stheGate,’hesaid,hiseyesflickeringfromErefantomeandbackagain.‘Ithinksomething’sbrokenandthebalancehasgone.Wecan’tgobackinthere.’IturnedtoErefan.Fourhours,Isigned.‘Icandoitinfive,’hereplied.Four,Itoldhim.Then Igotup. Ineeded tocleanmyselfproperly,wipe the stenchofdaemonfrommy armour and boil-wash my hair. Then I needed to refuel the flamer,attendtomybladesandbegintheprocessofdrillingthecrew.We would have to barricade the most vulnerable sections – the Navigator’sblister,thecommandbridge,theexposedenginariumchambers.TheCadamarahadastandinggarrisonofafewhundred,andiftheywerepreparedforcombattheymightbeabletoholdtheirgroundforlongenoughformetodowhatwasnecessary.IwassureSlovowasright.Iwassurethattheempyreanwasrupturing,andthatthe inhabitants of thewarpwould be on to us as soon aswe cleared the veilagain, and that the chances of us emerging unscathed were zero. But if his
visions were correct, then this growing rift risked stranding us forever in thevoid,oratleastonthewrongsideofwhereweneededtobe.Sowewoulddoit.Wewouldfightourwaythrough.The Navigator was looking at me, appalled. At least he wasn’t talking anymore.Erefanwasaprofessionalandkepthisfeelingstohimself.Ihadnoideawhetheritwouldbepossibletogetusbackoncoursewithinfourhours,butatleasthehadsomethingtoworktowardsnow.Ilefttheminthechamberandwalkedbrisklytomyown.Icouldworryaboutthe Navigator’s state of mind later, when crossing the veil was a possibilityagain.Fornow,though,Ihadadefenceschemetoplan.
TIERON
‘And so we come to the heart of the matter,’ said the Master of theAdministratum,IrthuHaemotalion.He sat at the head of the long black granite table, his grey face a picture ofstudiedmournfulness.Hewaswearinghisheavyceremonialrobes,justasalltheotherHighLordsdid,thoughhiswereperhapsthemostostentatious,asbefittedhisroleasfirstamongequals.Ithadn’talwaysbeenthus.Inotheragesourmilitarycommandersmighthaveassumed an unofficial pre-eminence, but this was an age of bureaucracy andinertia, in which the greatest power now lay buried within the unknowablycomplex rulesofprocedure, and so themasterofbureaucracywasalso thedefactomasteroftheImperium.Iwatcheditallunfoldfrommyplaceatthefootofthetable.TheTwelveweregatheredintheirvariousfinery,attendedbytheirrobedofficialswhosatbehindthemonsmallerthrones.WewerehighuponthenorthernfaceoftheSenatorumImperialis, and thin light lanced down from high stained-glasswindows. TwoarmedLuciferBlacksguardedtheheavydoors,andmanymorewerestationedinandaroundtheCouncilchamber’sperimeter.Icouldhear thegun-dronesastheycircledendlesslyaboveus,aswellasthewhineofseeker-turretsinactiveservice.Theywereparanoid,allofthem,insistingonincrediblelevelsofsecurityevenwithinthemostsecureofalllocationsoftheImperium.ButIcouldsympathisewith that– theyweren’t trulyconcernedaboutexternal threatshere, theywereconcernedabouteachother.
Wehadalreadybeeninsessionforseveralhours,andthewaterysunwashighinthesky.Awholeraftofmeasureshadbeenaddressed,withmuchconsensus.Nowweweregettingtotherealbusiness.‘ImustthankthecancellariusforhisdiligenceinbringingthisissuetoCouncilagain,’Haemotalionwenton, lookingatmewith sardonic eyes. ‘It seems thatnothing could deter him from doing his duty on this occasion, even if it tookmuch…persuasiontoensurethatallviewsweretakenaccountof.’Idespisedtheman.Hisintellectwaspossiblythegreatestofallofthem,andhewasamasteroffiguresandledgers,justashehadtobe,buttherewasasavagecoldness in him that I had always found repellent.Of course, Imerely smiledandbowedinacknowledgement.‘It’saweightyissue,’theMasterwenton,intentontellinghispeerswhattheyalreadyknew.‘FortenthousandyearstheLexhasheldthebalancebetweenourforces,allderivingfromtheoriginalLordCommander’sprecepts.Itwashewhoimposed the Codex on his Legiones Astartes brothers, keeping the peacebetweentheSpaceMarinesandtheAdeptusTerra.Anditwashe,inconsultationwith the great Valdor, who issued the Edict of Restraint, under which theCustodianGuardwereexpresslyenjoinedtoremainonTerraasguardiansoftheEnthronedEmperor.Manytimes,voiceshavebeenraisedagainstthisedict,andevery time they have been quelled. But now, with the war at such a delicatestage,itcomestousagain.’‘It should never have done so,’ growled Raskian through a vox-filter. TheFabricator-Generalwasavastpresenceattheoppositeendofthetable,andtookup almost asmuch room as the rest of the chamber combined.His nominallyhuman-form body was locked into a whole series of stacked machines, allcoughing and flickering amid a jungle of thick power lines.His headwas themost unchanged part, though even that was bronze and emerald-eyed andhairless. ‘We’ve had a hundred crises, and never gone against the old pacts.What’snext–youdissolvetheTreatyofOlympus?’‘TheLexImperialisisinviolable,’agreedAvelizaDrachmar,thehatchet-facedmistressof theAdeptusArbites. ‘It isunacceptable tomodify itsprovisionsatthefirstsignofmilitarysetback.’Sofar,sopredictable.Iwashappytolettheopposedpartiesmaketheircases.‘Hardly the first sign,’ replied Merelda Pereth, Lord High Admiral of theImperial Navy. She was a quietly cool character, used to giving orders underextreme pressure. I liked her. ‘You might argue we’ve shown considerablerestraint.’
‘It’s still heresy,’ said Baldo Slyst, the ancient Ecclesiarch, and afterHaemotalion the most absurdly over-embellished. He placed his many-ringedfingersbeforehimonthestonetableandfixedtherestoftheHighLordswiththe bleak stare of a prophet. ‘The God-Emperor’s Will was reflected in thatEdict.Toerodeitnowisweaknessoffaith.’‘Itisweaknessofmindtochangenothingwhenthefactsdemandit,’counteredUilaLamma, the PaternovalEnvoy of theNavigators.Alone among theHighLords, Lammawas a representative of the real power behind theHouses, thevastandbloatedmutantwhooccupiedthePaternovalPalaceofthewarpscryers.I liked her too – as a servant likeme, albeit an exalted one, she had retainedsomesenseofproportioninlife.‘HowmanytimeshaveweseentheLexbindourhands,whentheEnemyhasnolawatall?Wehaveheldbackfromcreatingthousands more Chapters because we are held in thrall by the LordCommander’sancientdoctrine.Isaythedayhaslongsincepassedforthis.LetusunleashtheTenThousand.Letusunlockthegene-labsandcreatenewSpaceMarinestoserveunderourdirectcommand.Letusre-formtheImperialArmy,armtheEcclesiarchyandendthesedivisionsthatcrippleus.’Thatwasdangeroustalk,andriskedmakingtheargumentunwinnable.Thefirstrule of political change was to limit what was being asked for – they wouldnevergoforawholesalerevisionoftheCodexAstartes.Leops Franck spoke next, the stick-thinMaster of theAstronomican and thelast of those who opposed the motion. ‘You are forgetting your history, mylords,’hewhisperedthroughhisrebreather,makingallstraintohearhim.‘Everycrisisappearstoitsowngenerationasthegreatestofthemall.WhentheBeastthreatenedtodestroytheImperium,wedidnotunleashtheTenThousand.WhenNovaTerraraiseditshereticalhead,wedidnotunleashtheTenThousand.WhenVandireusheredintheReignofBlood,wedidnotunleashtheTenThousand.Ineverycase,weheldfirmandthewisdomofmillenniawasaffirmed.Waverfromthatnow,andwewilldeservetoperish.’‘Butinallthoseages,’objectedtheonewhohadstartedallofthis,KerapliadesoftheAdeptusAstraTelepathica,‘westillheldtheEye’sGate.Wecouldsufferallotherwoundsintheknowledgethathellwascontained.Thatiswhatwerisknow.YouknowaswellasIdothatourgripisslipping.WhentheDespoiler–’‘The Despoiler cannot break the leaguer,’ said Slyst. ‘He has failed twelvetimes,andthisshallbenodifferent.’‘Have you undertaken a warp journey in recent months, Ecclesiarch?’ askedKania Dhanda, Speaker of the Chartist Captains and a strong ally of ours.
‘Natureitselfisunderstrain.Ifhecanbendtheelements,thenhecanbreaktheleaguer.’‘And sedition has never been greater,’ said Kleopatra Arx, the Inquisition’sRepresentative. ‘Wehave longmemories in theordos, andweknowwhen thetideisagainstus.’Shepassedhercool,hardeyesacrosstheassembledlords.‘AsIhavebeenarguingforyears,weareatbreakingpointnow.Wecannotburnthehereticsfastenough,andwecannotslaughterthexenosquicklyenough.Thisisnot just another phase of trial for the Holy Imperium. This is our criticalmoment.’Bythen,onlytwohadremainedsilent.Fadixrarelyspokeanyway,andbusiedhimselfmakingnoteswithacrystalstaveonabone-edgeddata-slate.That leftValoris.Hehadcome,justaspromised.Ifanyoftheothersweresurprisedbythat,theydidnotshowit.Onceinplace,therewasnoquestionofhisrighttobethere.Thevoteofacceptancehadbeenaformality,thoughhehadbarelyspokenthroughoutit.Nowhe sathalfwayalong the sunlit sideof the table, farbulkier andmoreimposingthananysaveRaskian.IndaylighthisfacewasevenmoreravagedthanIrememberedit.Iguessedoneofhismanybattleshaddonethattohim–itlookedlikeacidhadbeenlefttorunacrosshisfeatures,makingthemflaredandangry.Now, slowly and deliberately, he leaned forwards and placed his gauntletstogether.‘Beaware,lords,whatisatstakehere,’hesaidquietly.Alllistened.EvenFadixputdownhispen.‘TheCustodianshavealwaysfought.Wedonotmerelypatrolthewallswhile others die in service. I am sure that none of youwould havesupposedotherwise,foryouareallintelligentsouls.’Itwasstrangetohearhimspeakagain.Thelasttimehadbeendaysago,downinthecrypts,somethingthathadcometoseemmorelikeadreamthanreality.‘Whatisatstakeisthis–shallwefightaswedidintheGreatCrusade,attheforefront, and under the authority of the Senatorum Imperialis? And thatquestionhasnoeasyanswer,forifwearetofight,thenwhoistocommandus?TheEmperorcannotleadusasHedidinthelostage.Wearenotboundtothewillof theCouncilasare theAstraMilitarumand the ImperialNavy.Perhapsyou desire us to become another Inquisition, answerable to no one but theEmperorHimself, but if so you should bewary ofwhat youwish for, as ourgoalsmaynotbethesameasyours.’Icouldnottellwherethiswasleading.Hisownviewswerestilluncleartome,
despite what he had said about my own role convincing him to come. I hadhoped,perhapsunwisely,thatthediscussionhere,whenallwassetoutandtheHighLordscoulddemonstrate theirown thinking,wouldbeenough.Afterall,whocoulddenythemselvesmorepower?AllwewereofferingwasthechancefortheCustodianstoresumetheirrightfulplace.‘Therearealittleundertenthousandofus,’saidValoris.‘Thatisamoteagainstthestormtocome.EventheAdeptus Astartesarefewinnumber–ithasalwaysbeentheuncountedmassesthathavewonourwars.And,ofcourse,intheAgeofWonder,wefoughtalongsidetheSisterhood.’‘Theyarebeingrecalled,’saidHaemotalion.Valorislookedathimwithsuddeninterest.‘Iwasnotaware.’‘Thechancellorcanenlightenyou.’I coughed, and half rose frommy subordinate throne. ‘Thematterwas dealtwith inmandatum786734-56, following the reporteddevastationof theFenrisSystem.Theanathemapsykanawereneverformallydisbanded,anddonotcomeundertheprovisionsofthisact.ItwastheunanimousdecisionoftheCounciltoseekout the scatteredmembersof theoldSisterhood and issue a recall noticewheretheystillexisted.Somearealreadyenroute.Othersareyettorespond.’Valorisregardedmecarefully.‘Thiswasyourdoing?’‘ItwasthedoingoftheCouncil.’‘An interesting time to remember them. It should have been done centuriesago.’Ibowedinapology.‘Thewarhasdrivenmuchawaythatshouldhaveremainedintact. I am told theSisters are…hard to livewith.Theynever had the alliesherethattheyneeded.’I may have been a little too candid there. In truth, the long decay in ourmanagement of those pariahs was more down to the ossified nature of ourcommandandcontrolstructures.Theyhadneverbeendeliberatelyignored,justgraduallyrundownovermillenniaasotherprioritiestookover,andthewidelyheld suspicion of their esoteric natures made them easy prey for zealousenemies.‘Itistherestorationofsomethingthatshouldneverhavebeenallowedtolapse,’saidLamma.‘Wearegoingbacktotheoldstructuresthatallowedustoconquerthestars.’‘AndDissolutionoftheLordCommander’sedictwouldcompletethepicture?’askedFranck,scornfully.‘Youoverstateyourcase,Envoy.’‘Ithastobedone,’urgedKerapliades,everthemostforcefuloftheHighLords
in this. ‘Whilewedebate,Cadiaburns.Canyoudoubt thatevena titheof theTenThousandwouldturnthetideback?’‘Icandoubtit,’saidHaemotaliondryly.‘TheCaptain-Generalsaysithimself–theyareagrainofdust.’‘One thatcould inspireothers,’arguedPereth. ‘If Icouldbringa regimentofthem to the front line, just a single regiment, and the troops could see it, andknowthattheEmperorhasnotforgottenthem–’‘Heneverhas,’snipedSlyst.‘Buttheymaywellbelievewehave,’retortedDhanda.‘It should never have come to this table,’ snarled Raskian again, growingsurlier.‘Allthingsbelongatthistable,’saidArx.Icouldseethenthattheargumentwasdissolving.Allthosewhowereinfavourbefore remained in favour now, and vice versa. My hopes for a waveringindividual tosettle thematterwereclearly invain,andtherancournowriskedderailingtheissueevenfurther.IlookedovertoHaemotalion,andcaughthiseye.Weunderstoodoneanotherinstantly.Vilemanthoughhewas,heknewhowthingsworked.‘Enough, please,my good lords,’ he said, holding up his hand.The chambersettled down. ‘The first arguments have been made. Any move towardsDissolutionmust command amajority of this chamber.To save us frommorefutile debate, I propose we gauge the balance of opinion now. If there is amajorityinfavour,wemayproceedwithfurtherdiscussion.Ifnot,thentherearemanyothermatterstodetainus.’Thiswas themoment.WithValoris inplay, Ihad thevotes Ineeded. I felt asudden lurch of fear, as if I were looking over a cliff at the waves crashingbelow. After so many long years of labour, we were finally at the point ofdecision.‘Placeyourvotes,ifyouwill,mylords,’saidHaemotalion.Onebyone,theHighLordsputtheirhandsoutbeforethem.Anupwardpalmindicatedconsent,adownwardpalmdissent,aclenchedfistabstention.RaskianandKerapliadeswere first,onopposite sidesof theargument.Then theothersfollowedsuit,someforcefully,somewithmorereserve.Soonelevenhandswereon the table.Fadixwas theonly abstention, and theMasterofAssassinslookedatmecoollyasheplacedhisfistonthestone.Justaspredicted,fivevoteseitherwaywereplaced,leavingonlyValoristocasthis.Ilookedupathim,myheartthumping.Icouldalreadyseeithappening.Icould
seetheoldLegioCustodesrebornatthismoment,takingthefightatlasttotheEnemy,anditwouldbemywork.Evenifonlyafractionofthemtookship,Ihadseenwhattheycoulddoincombat–therecouldbenothing,surelynothing,thatwouldstandagainstthem.I felt my palms grow sweaty. All eyes turned to the Captain-General, whowaited calmly, as if he were listening to something beyond our hearing. Thetension became unbearable, and I had to restrain myself from blurting outsomethingunwise.And then hemoved, lifting hismassive arm from the stone and extending itoutwards.Withalurchofpurehorror,Isawhisheavypalmturnovertofacethetabletop.Butheneverplacedit.Justashemoved,everyoneoftheHighLordssuddenlyreceivedthesameburstoftidingsfromtheirownprivatecomm-feeds.Adjutantsleaptoutoftheirseats,franticallycheckingandthendouble-checkingwhattheyhadjustheard,beforeracingtoconferwiththeirmasters.The doors at the far end of the chamber slammed open, and robed officialsracedin,ignoringtheshoutsoftheLuciferBlacks.ForamomentIgenuinelyhadnoideawhatthecommotionwasabout,untilIsaw Kerapliades shouting out in dismay and suddenly knew, with terriblecertainty,whatmusthavehappened.OnlyonepieceofnewscouldhavehaltedthatCouncilinmid-session,fortheastropathrelayerswouldneverhavedaredtodisturbthemforanythingless.BythetimeIhadactivatedmyownexternalchannelandheardJek’sfranticvoiceattheotherend,Ialreadyknewwhatshewouldtellme.‘Mylord!’shecried,hervoicecrackingwithanguish.‘It’sgone!It’sgone.’‘Tell me plainly,’ I snapped. I could feel everything collapsing around me,everythingIhadworkedandriskedsomuchfor,goneinaninstant,anditmademedesperate.‘Cadia,’Jeksaid,alreadyintears.‘It’sfallen.It’sover,mylord.It’sallover.’
VALERIAN
Ithappenedsoquickly.Time, space, matter, thought – we had known for so long that they were aseamless weave, but perhaps we had not fully understood just how close thebonds were between them. A great plan, thousands of years in the gestation,cametoitscompletion,andwewerethegenerationtowitnesshellbeingfreedfromitsboundaries.Irememberlookingupattheskies,andseeingthemchange.TheskyscapesofTerraaregreyandoccluded,foreverchurninginasoupofdriftingsmog.Thosewholivetherelearnnottolookup.Whywouldthey?Thereisnothingtoseebutthefilthyevidenceofourowndestructiveness.But then, on that day, those clouds became the red of arteries – vivid andvirulent,theirinnardsglowingasiflitbyfire.MortalsrantotherampartsofthePalace, staringwide-eyed into theburning atmosphere, cryingout to theGod-Emperortosavethemfromthemadnesstheywereseeing.I stood where I was, high on the parapets of the Tower of Hegemon, andwitnessed the skyburn.Theairwas filledwith screaming. I sawgreat arcsofelectricity, as bloody as the skies above, slam and skip across the reelingcityscape.Athousandwar-hornsweregoingoff,sendingspikesofclamourintoan already reeling firmament. I saw aircraft lose power and collapse into thetowersbelow,theirsystemsscrambledbypunishingburstsofelectrostatic.Onebighauler,akilometreoutovertheXerichohives,tookalongtimetoimpact,itspilots desperately gunning their faltering engines as the hull ploughed slowlyintoathicketofhab-units.Iwatcheditallhappen.Iwatchedtheinfernokickoff
astheplasmadrivesdetonated.Allacrossthatwidehorizon,morefiresswelledintolife,addingtotheheat-flareoftheheavensabovethem.Myhelm-feedskitteredwith incomingsignalrunes. Iassessed theminstantly,disregardingthethousandsofalertsinfavourofthetrulyessentialorder–Italeohadsummonedusalltothemusterchamber.Iran.Iwasalreadyarmoured,andpausedonlymomentarilytoretrieveGnosisfrommyarmoury.Bythenfreshwarningklaxonswereshudderingthroughthecitadel’scavernousinterior.ManyofthosehadnotbeensoundedsincetheGreatHeresy itself when the False Warmaster had besieged the walls, and theircroakingdinsoundedlikethebattle-trumpetsofanotherreality.Iwasamong the first to respond.Withinminutesof thesummons thereweremorethanthreehundredofusinthegrandhall,overlookedbystatuesofValdorand the long golden roll-calls of theGloriousDead, andmore arriving all thetime.Therewasnoairofpanic.Ithinkweweremadetobeincapableofpanic.Buttherewasexpectationthere,seethinginthegildedconfinesofthatchamberandwaiting for itsoutlet.Weallknewby instinct that something fundamentalhadbroken,butasyetwedidnotknowjustwhat,orhowmuchby.Lookingbackat thatmoment, I findmystrongestmemorywasastrangeandunbidden senseof excitement.Youmust remember thatwewere lonehunters,andthatitwasrare,evenforus,toseesomanyofourordergatheredtogether.As I ranmy eyes across the gathering battalions of auramite, I had a suddenvision of invincibility. Thiswas how itmust have been, I thought, before theSecretWar–thelasttimewehadbeendrawntogetherasasinglearmyagainstasingleenemy.OneoftheReveredFallenenteredthechamberthen–amightyleviathanoftheContemptor-Galatuspattern,justlikethoseinterredattheportalstotheThroneitself. Ididnotknowhow long ithadbeensincehismachine-spiritshadbeenprovokedfromlongstasis,butsimplytowitnessthehallowedformofmystill-living brother only amplifiedmy sense of exhilaration. The entombedwarriorlumberedoutoftheshadows,hishugeshellglitteringasifnewlyforged.And then Tribune Italeo entered, flanked by two honour guards. His armourwasheavilyscored,asifrakedoverbyclaws,andhislongblackcloakwastorn.He removedhishelm, andhis featureswere smearedwith ash. I donotknowwherehehadbeenfighting,oragainstwhom,buttheevidenceofhistrialswasalltoovisible.‘Mybrothers,’hecalledout,comingtoahaltatopthehighdaisatthefarendof
the chamber. ‘You have heard the tidings from the Cadian Gate. I come toconfirmthetruthofthem–theworldislosttotheImperium.Thesurvivorsarefleeing aheadof the storm.TheDespoiler has broken the ancient leaguer, andnowhisarmiesmarchunopposedintothevoid.’Hespokecarefully,weightingeachword,butIcouldseesomethinginhisgreyeyesthatIhadneverwitnessedbefore.Itmighthavebeencombatweariness,butthatwasnotsomethingIwouldnormallydetect.Iwonderedagainwherehehadbeenbeforecominghere,andwhathehadseen.‘Our star-dreamers, those who live still, tell me this is only the beginning,’Italeowent on. ‘TheEye is growing.Space around it is tearing.Wehave lostcontactwith large regions ofHis realmbeyond a growing chasmof darkness.Andamidallofthis,andmostgrave,theAstronomicanhasfailed.’Weweretranshuman,allofus,conditionedtorespondwithstoicismtoeventheworsttidings,butwewerenotmachines.Arippleofdisquietpassedthroughtheassembledranks.Iheardamuffled‘itcannotbe’slipfrommorethanonepairoflips.TheAstronomicanwasmorethanthebeaconbywhichourstarshipssailed.Itwas the single most significant marker of the Emperor’s continued presenceamongus.Wemighthope formystical signs from time to time,or inspirationfrom the Tarot, but in truth the greatest proof that ourmaster still held swayagainst the tides of unreason was the light He guided through the empyrean.While that endured, He endured. If that failed, we would know that He hadfailed.Italeo raisedagauntlet tostill themurmuring,and I saw that themetalglovehadbeenmauledandtwistedoutofshape.‘AsIspeak,savantsoftheRedPlanetareattending,’hetoldus.‘ALevelEightdelegation from theAdeptusMechanicuswill bemaking planetfallwithin thehour,andtheFabricator-Generalwillattendtorepairsinperson.IhavespokenwithTribuneHeracleon,whoremainswithin thepresenceof theEmperor,andwho reports that the operation of the Golden Throne is within normalparameters.Wedonotyetknowthecause.Untilitcanberesolved,ourfleetsareblindandourarmiesarebecalmed.’Istoleaglanceatmybrothersasthenewssankin.Inthosewhowentwithouthelms I saw a range of emotions playing across normally impassive faces –shock, a swift-kindling resolve, evenanger,whichwas rarewithus. I saw thevariedvocations represented there– the artisans, the theologians, the sentinelsandthelorewardens–andsawthemallslowlyassumetheaspectofthewarrior.
‘The Captain-General remains with the High Lords in High Council,’ Italeosaid. ‘As of thismoment, the Throneworld is declared in a state of extremumbellumandallprovisionsofthepeacetimeLexaresuspended.TheHataeronwillremainwithin theSanctumImperialis,andallothersarecommandedtosecuretheOuter Palaceaccordingtothedefencepatternslaiddownbyprecept.’Helookedoutacrossusall.Moreofmybrothershadarrivedbythen,swellinginnumberuntil the chamber floorwasalmosthiddenunder a fieldofgold.AsecondDreadnoughtclankedintoposition,hisbladeswimmingwithsimmeringenergies. Above us hung the banners of our ancient campaigns, their liverysealedbehindstasisfieldsandthebloodstainsstillvivid.‘Theday isdark,brothers,’ Italeosaid,clenchinghisdamagedgauntlet intoafist.‘ButwearethesonsofUnity,theimmaculatetalonsoftheEmperor,andnoenemy has ever crossed a threshold that we guarded. Remain true, remainindomitable,andHewillguideyouasHedidbefore.’We uttered no battle-cry then, such as the Space Marines did. We did notpossess any, forwe fought in silence and the roars of aggression theyused toaugmenttheirprowesshadnopurchaseforus.ButIwasmoved,allthesame.Mybrothersweremoved.Wefeltthefabricofourworld,ofourspecies’existence,begintounravel,andallthatremainedwasdefiance.We raised our weapons. Several hundred guardian spears and longswordssurgedupintotheair,allinsilence,manyetchedwithkillingdisruptor-charge,allasprimordialandstoriedasourpeerlessbattleplate.‘ByHiswillalone,’saidItaleo,invokingtheeternalmantra.‘ByHiswill alone,’we responded, theonly thingwewould say,orhadeversaid,beforebattlesummonedus.
Weknewourroles.GiventhevastnessoftheOuterPalace,each Custodianactedas the figurehead for awhole host of lesserwarriors. I knew the name of theseniormortalofficerundermycommand–ColonelSlanUrboof theKatanda143rdStalwarts.Bythe timeI reachedmyassigneddestinationhehadalreadymusteredhisregiment,closetofourthousandtroopsinolive-greenfatiguesandcarapaceplate,allinfullorderandreadyfordeployment.Ourwatch-sectorwasa fewkilometreseastof the fabledLion’sGate, siteofsomeoftheheaviestfightingduringtheGreatHeresyandnowashrinezonefullofcathedrals.Thegreatprocessionalavenuethatledfromtheouterhab-regionsallthewaytothe EternityGateitselfpassedthroughthatregion,overlookedby
ahundreddefencetowersandstalkedbyTitans.BythetimeIarrivedattheschedulerendezvous,thesignsofbattlepreparationwere everywhere. I knew that gun lines would be angling and blast shieldsgrindingclosed.Thedefencestationsinorbitwouldbecyclinguptofullpower,activating long-dormant plasma coils and feeding the energy to colossal ship-killerhowitzers.Incomingvoidtrafficwouldbehalted,andreserveNavyforcespressed into immediateaction.FromLuna to Jupiter, squadronswouldalreadybeprowling,sendingexhaustiveaugursweepsdeepintothevoid.Evenbeforeashothadbeenfired,theseactionsdoomedmillions.Terracouldnotfeeditself,andhadnotbeenable todosoformillennia. Itsveryexistencewas dependent on an endless rota of incoming cargo ships – any halt in thatprocessiontriggeredstarvation,andtheeffectswouldbegintobefeltonlyafewdaysfromnow.Thatwasourgreatestweakness.Themilitaryinstallationshadsupplyreservesfor months, but for the civilian masses there was no such luxury. Once themultitudesrealisedthatthecargo-dropswereslowingduetothesecuritycordon,an already restive populacewould become ungovernable. If the authorities onthismostpricelessworldhaddevotedjustatitheofthefundsusedtomaintaintheirthousandsofcathedralsongrainsilosthenourdefencewouldhavebeensomuchlessprecarious,butsuchwerethetimeswelivedin.ImetUrboamidahowlinggaleatoponeofthebigdropsitesnorthofthewall.IsawranksofValkyriegunshipsoutontheapron,allofthemwhininguptofullpower. Squads of Stalwarts were racing across the apron, their faces hiddenbehindrebreathers.‘My Lord Custodian,’ Urbo greetedme, bowing andmaking the sign of theaquila.Hewasasquat, shortmanwithpiggisheyesandanose thatmusthavebeenbroken more than twice. He spoke with a guttural catch in his voice, and Idetected the black glint of augmetics at his neck. He was surrounded by hisregimentalstaff,twentyofthem,alldeckedinthesamegreenfatiguessaveforthecommissarinblackandabewilderedlookingastropathinpalerobes.‘Youstandatfullcomplement?’Iasked.‘Ninety-eightpercent,lord,’hesaidimmediately,withsomepride.‘Andyouknowyourorders?’‘Deployment complete within forty minutes, lord. The first gunships areleavingnow.’As if to underline the point, at the far end of the long dropsite a Valkyrie
boomed into the air, accompanied by two fighter escorts.Another followed italmostinstantly,andtheaprontrembledbeneathourboots.The defence pattern had been determined a long time ago and regularlyreviewed. Platoons of infantry would be dropped into strategic firepointscommanding views across the great jumbled mass of hive-spires andEcclesiarchymonuments.Aregularoverwatchofgunshipswouldactasaquick-responseforce,backedupbythreestandingreservesoffourhundredtroopseachequippedwithheavyweaponsandSentinelwalkers.Allacrossthethousandsofkilometresoftheperimetersimilarschemeswerealsotakingshape.‘Weshallsurveythesector,then,’IsaidtoUrbo,whonoddedandgesturedformetowalkwithhimovertowhereabigcommandlifterwaited,steamingontherockcrete.‘Your pardon, but can you tell us anything more, lord?’ the colonel asked,scurrying to match my long stride. ‘Our two sanctioned psykers are both inrestraintsandscreaming.Theastropath’sspeechlessandcan’trememberhisownname.And,well,youcanseethesky.’‘Aprecaution,colonel,’Isaid.‘Whenthesituationisconfirmed,youwillbethefirsttoknowmore.’The command lifter was a big machine, squat and black and bristling withclose-rangegunnery.Itsmainholdwasoneofthefewintheregiment’sarsenalthatcouldaccommodatemecomfortably,andofferedadecentviewfromslattedarmourglass panes along each flank.We embarked, the doors slammed closedandtheturbinesswungusupintotheair.It was only when airborne that I fully gained an appreciation for what wastaking place.We pulled clear of the wall, driving low over a banked line oflascannon emplacements, andwere greeted by a vista of inferno.The horizonwas aflame from north to south, the clouds burning incarnadine andweepingtrailsofblacksoot.Icouldfeelitonmyskin,evenundertheprotectionofmyarmour – Terra was always hot, but now it was painfully so.More lightningdancedacrossthestrickencityscape,orangeandvivid.Normally theskieswouldhavebeenfilledwith traffic,butnowonlymilitaryvehicles were aloft. Columns of smoke rose from the carcasses of aircraftknocked off course by the bursts of static.When theAstronomican had gonedark it had blown the electrics of equipment halfway across the planet.Here,neartheepicentre,mostofthehive-spireswerestilldark.Icannotexplainjusthowitfelt,knowingthatthebeaconwasgone.Itwasnotavisible thing, of course –wedid not lose a physical columnof light over our
heads – but the psychic loss was palpable.We had all perceived it, but untilItaleo’stidingswehadnottrulyknownthecause.Ifeltdislocated.TheAstronomicanwasaliterallighthousefortheNavigator-mutants, but for the rest of us it also had a grounding function.Onlywith itswithdrawal could we understand just how much its presence had beensubliminallydetected,a faintauraofassuranceamidagalaxy thatwas tearingitselfapart.Andthatexplainedthemadness.Asthecommandlifterpulledfurtheroutintothemawoftheworld-city,wecouldseetheenormouscrowdsspillingoutontothecausewaysandraisedplazas.Theywereincredible–livingseasofhumanity,streamingoutofeverycrevice.Theyclusteredinthechokedspaceslikelocusts,and theirmassed cries of desperationwere audible evenover thedroneof thelifter’sengines.Irememberedmyencounterwiththefarsmallercrowd,onlyafewdaysago.Irememberedthenervousnessofthemortalcommander,thesenseofimpendingviolenceintheair.Nowallthatwassweptaway,replacedbynakeddesperationonsuchascale that italmostdefiedbelief.Hadtheyknownthenthat thiswascoming? Was that what had driven their short-lived magus into his ownmadness?To thewest lay theLion’sGate itself,visibleasamountainoushunkofgreyamid flickering swirls of fiery air. The defences were strongest there, but weservedastheportal’seasternflank,acriticallocationtoholdifsomethingweretoattempttoforcethepassage.IfoundmyselfwishingformorethantwicethetroopsthatUrbohadunderhiscommand.Thecolonelhimselfwassubduedaswecircledthewidezoneofengagement.‘Somany,’hemurmured.‘Throne,they’reallgoingmad.’I had always doubted that the greater mass of humanity was sufficientlypsychically attuned to detect the presence of theAstronomican, but perhaps Ihadbeenwrong.Ormaybethiswasabaserkindoffearhere–aherdresponse,gatheringmomentumwitheverysecond.‘Takeusoutthere,’Icommanded,gesturingtothedistantpinnaclesofagiantbasilica.Wepassed overmore sites of devastation.One entire hive-spirewas burningalong its eastern face, exposinga skeletal latticeofhab-levelswithin.Anotherwas stricken with flickering lines of neon-blue as its main power gridoverloaded.Evenasweswoopedlower,amajorviaductarchingacrossadeepcanyon collapsed under theweight of the crowds teeming across it, sending a
plume of steel-grey debris mushrooming high. Amid all the tumult, the lossseemedhardlytobenoticed.Inarrowedmyeyes.Itwasbecominghardtomakeanythingoutinthatmurkofflameandash.Theairwasbehavingstrangelyoverthebasilica’scupola.Therewas something there–adancing, snakingpresence, like the reflectionof lightfrom a spyglass. As we drew closer, the impression faded, and the concreteoutlineofthegreatbuildingroseuptoobscureallelse–atiered,many-terracedcolossus in slate-grey adamantium, crowned with lines of skulls and tear-streakedangels.‘Completeyourcordon,colonel,’Isaid,movingtowardstheholddoors.‘Ineedtoseethis.’‘Lord,therearethousandsdown–’Thenherememberedwhohewastalkingto,andgaveanembarrassedhalf-smile.‘Iwillreturnwithinthehour,’Isaid,pullingthesecuritylatchandlettingfieryairscreaminside.‘Ensureallissetinplacebythen.’ThenIpushedmyselffromtheholdandoutontothelifter’sledge.Bythenwewere nomore than tenmetres from the ground, and I could smell the humanstenchofthethrongsbelow.I dropped heavily, barely evading those directly under my shadow. Thebasilica’sgreatdoorsroseupbeforeme,thoughtheplazawasstuffedtightwithlabourersandmenial-gradeworkers.Justasbefore,onelookatmewasenoughtosendmostofthemshriekingandscrabblingtogetaway,thoughsomeofthedesperatecrawledtotouchmycloakorpleadforprotection.Theyallreekedoffearandfrenzy.Ipushedmywaythroughthem,climbedthestepsandenteredthebasilica.Theair inside was scarcely less febrile. A huge mingled congregation clusteredaround the mighty columns, wailing and rocking in unison. Frescoes of theImperialsaintshungin theside-chapels,darkwithincensestains,andthehighaltarwasthrottledwithsupplicantstryingtoreachthereliquariesbeyond.Servo-skullszippedandbobbedthroughthepungentclouds,confusedby thesensoryoverload,theiraugur-eyesflashingmadly.Imovedtowardsthehighaltar,avastconstructionofcrustedgoldsetbelowthevaultwherethetranseptscrossed.Aprieststumbledpastme,hiseyesbleeding,seeminglyblinded.Othersweresurginguptowardsthealtardais,screaming.Apenitent engine walker, greatest and most grotesque of the creations of theEcclesiarchy’smilitantarm,limpeddownthenavewithitsflamersactivated,butitwas hamperedby the press of bodies around it. I caught a glimpseof bald-
headedprophetsinragsoccupyingthepulpitsandcallingdowntheEndTimes.Itwasdemented.Noprayerswerebeingsaid;thecongregationswereswillingaroundlikedumbanimals,lostonatideofpsychicfear.Amidalltheconfusion,ignored by all, something was taking shape over the altar. The air seemedthicker,moreviscous,anditwasrapidlycurdlingintosomethingsolid.I kicked through the altar railings and strode up the steps. One of manyreliquarieshungover thealtar-top–acrystalcasket linedwithblackenedgoldthelengthofamortalman,chainedheavilyandcoveredintattersofdevotionalprayer-strips. The casket was vibrating wildly, yanking against its bonds. Itstransparent faces were cracked, and a thin whine emanated from it like glassplacedunderhighpressure.A priest crawled up tome, his face covered in blood. ‘It… it…’ he gasped,sinkingtohisknees,gesturingweaklytothevibratingreliquary.They couldn’t get near it. The dais was already littered with dead or dyingclerics,andbloodwas runningdown themarble steps indark rivulets. Icouldhearsomethingscratching.Theairoverthealtarbecamethicker.I activatedGnosis’ energy field, and the snarl of plasma reactedwildly. Thecasketcaughtonitschainsandshookviolently.I lookedinsidethecrystalandsaw a sword suspended within – a relic of some saint imbued with ancientpower, venerated no doubt for millennia but now acting as the conduit forsomethingevenolder.I could sense the veil thinning rapidly, ready to be torn aside like so muchgauze.IswungGnosistwo-handed,shatteringthecasketinaflashandashriekof released energy.The entire nave shook, rockedby the shockwave, and thesword spun clear of its bonds, scything round to point itself atme. I had thefleeting impression of something reaching to grasp it – a tall creaturewith ananimal’sgrinunderacrownofhorns.I thrustGnosis into theapparition’sheart,and thevisionannihilated,blowingapart into a whirl of glistening teardrops. The sword clattered to the marble,flexingasthesteelfacehit.Iheardtheechoofahowl, thenachoirofbrokenlaughter.‘I was first, though,’ I heard, like a hissed breath echoing around the nave.‘FirstofMany.’Clangingechoesdiedaway.Thetumultinthenavewenton unabated,butthearomaofmadnessatthealtarfaded.IknewwhatIhadseen.Thedaemonhadalmostenteredtheworldofflesh,justabreathawayfrombecomingreal.Whateverresonanceithadtakenonhadbeen
connected to the relic, stored here under the watch of the Ministorum forgenerations.Ilookeddownattheblade.Themetalwasstillhot,butcoolingnow.Aterrifiedclericapproacheditwarily,holdinguphisstaffasifitcouldprotecthim.‘Leave it,’ Icommanded,drawingcloser to the fellblade. IcouldseewritingetchedalongthesteelinalanguageIdidnotunderstand.Iguessedthatithadn’tbeentherebefore.ThiswasTerra.Thiswas the shrineworldof the Imperiumand the temporalseatoftheMasterofMankind.Forallitscorruptionandallitsmanysins,therehadnotbeendaemonkindtreadingonthisworldsincethecataclysmoftheGreatHeresy. Powerful wards had been constructed since then, consecrated andrenewed by each generation, tended by an entire culture geared to endlesslywatchthedark.Itshouldn’thavebeenpossible,nothere,notunderthegazeofsomanypriestsandsaintsandOrdoHereticusagents.Theworldwasawry,castloosefromitsmoorings.Thethingcouldnotremainhere,lostamidthesecrowdsofhalf-madandterror-stupid. I took it up, knowing the danger, and felt its wasp-sting touch eventhroughtheauramiteofmygauntlets.In the blink of an eye, I saw another reality. I saw the skies torn open andlegionsof theNeverbornstridingacross theburningarcofTerra’sruins.Isawthe Imperial Palace besieged as it had once been before, and heard the soul-scrapingcryofvendettatearthewind,andknewthatthevisionwasclose.Iturnedfromthatplaceandmadehaste.IcouldnotsummonUrbo–therelichadtobetakenoutofthereachofmortals,destroyedifpossible,lockedawayifnot,andtherewerethosewhoseentirelivesweredevotedtosuchexigencies.Ifoundmyselfwonderinghowmanysuchartefactsexistedacross the thousandsof shrines on Terra, accumulated over long and patient millennia, and thethoughtchilledme.Imoveddownthelongnaveandoutintotheredglowofthesmoulderingsky.Ahead of me stretched a towering, many-layered labyrinth of gatheringconfusion.‘Shield-CaptainValerian,’Ivoxed,feelingpaingrowinthepalmthatheldthesword. ‘Priority message for Tribune Italeo. Request immediate dispatch ofTalionlifter tomylocation.Daemonspoor locatedonTerra,withinsightof thewalls.’IcouldhardlybelieveIwasspeakingthewords.‘Recommendalsosummonsbesentforassistance,’ Isaid. ‘It is time,I think,
thatwespoketoTitan.’
ALEYA
Theygotin.Everytimetheybrokethrough,Idestroyedthem.EverytimeIdestroyedthem,they inflictedmore damage.Wewere being killed, slowly, taken apart as weracedthroughthecrumblingvaultsofcreation.IhadpreparedaswellasIcould,giventheconstraintsIwasworkingunder.Iwouldhavegivenanythingtohavehadsomeofmysisterswithme,butErefan’stroopsdidbetter than Imighthaveexpected.Theywere farbetter trainedandconditioned than the average trooper of theAstraMilitarum, of course. Theirdrills hadbeen taken from theguardmanuals of theBlackShips, and so theyknew how to respond to an order in battle-sign. They were psycho-steeledagainst all but the worst creatures of the Enemy, and so given appropriatewarningcouldhold theirnerveagainstmuch thata regularsoldierwouldhavebalkedat.Butthatwasthelimitofit.Whenthenightmaresclawedtheirwayinsideourcrackedandleakinghulltheycouldonlyholdpositionforafewsecondsbeforetheywereforcedintoabloodyretreat.Weadoptedaterriblepatternoffightandflight–Erefanwouldkeepusinthewarpforaslongashepossiblycould.Thatmightbeseveraldays,othertimesjustafewhours.AssoonasSlovodetectedabreakintheGellerfieldtheorderwouldbegiventocrashbackintorealspace.Sometimeswewould avoid a full breach then, andwould slam back into theworldofthesensesunharmed.Othertimeswewouldsmashacriticalsystemandhave to scramble madly to keep the plasma drives from overloading. Andsometimes,worstofall,wewouldemergeintothephysicalvoidcarryingnew -
passengers – soulless like me, dragged up from the etheric swamp of theempyreanandreadytoslaughter.Thelasttimehadbeentheworst.Ihadbeenatmystationintheverycentreofthevessel,waiting like an ambushhunter at themajor intersectionof a dozentransitarteries.TheCadamarawasnotabigship–lessthanakilometrelong,andwithonlyafewdozeninhabitedlevels–butthatstilllefthundredsofmetrestotraverseoncethealarmsstartedtosound.IheardSlovo’swarning, thenErefan’scommandtocrashout, thenthesquealandboomoftheplasmaconduitscomingonline,thenmortalyells.Iranhard.Myflamertwitchedinmygrip,readytoexplodeintolife,andmybladeglintedintheshadows.Ittookmealongtimetogettothem,andbythetimeIwasclosemycomm-beadwascrammedwiththehowlsofthedyingandtheterrified.I burst into a narrow feeder corridor just below the aft enginarium tanks. AdozenofErefan’ssoldierswerescramblingbacktowardsme,firingatsomethingunseeninwaywardbursts.EvenifIcouldhaveshoutedatthemtofallbacktheywouldn’thaveheardme–theywerealreadybreakingintothatcold-sweatterrorthat fused their fingers to their triggers and locked their rational capacitiesclosed.So I shovedmyway through them, flicking the safety frommy flamer. Thecorridorwaschokedwithbodies,piledup likesacksofgrainandsoddenwithblood.Foramoment, I couldn’t seewhathaddone thedamage.Herewas theonedisadvantageofmysoullessstate–Ihadtousemyphysicalsensestodetectthedaemon,andhadnoaccess to thepsychicdread thatwouldhavegiven itspresenceawaysooner.Run,Isignedtomysoldiers,hopingthattheywouldseethesignalandgetoutwhiletheystillcould.Then I saw it. The combat lumens flooded the corridor in a blush of red,catching theslickskinof something that looked likeahunchbacked infant,nobiggerthanahumanchild.Itwaseyeless,anditsdomedheadwasthreetimesthesizeofitsspindlybody.Ihadabriefglimpseofitcaperingtowardsmeonfinger-likelegs,ahugemouthyawningopentorevealconcentricringsofhumanteeth.I flooded thepassagewith flame,making the air shudder andblackening thebulkheads on either side of me. The creature leapt through them, its skinshrivellingandcrispingfromagreasysackofbonesunderneath.Itshowlswerethehowlsofahumanchildinpain,andtheysetmyteethonedge.
Itboundedfromthewalls to theceiling,evadingmyflamerbefore launchingitselfatme.Iswitchedinstantlytomyblade,aimingtocatchitswattleneckwithaslice,butitwastoofast,andclatteredinclose.Weskiddedacrossthedeck,mybladepirouetting,and itwent formy throatwith itsdistended jaws. Ismelt itsfaecal breath waft over me and nearly vomited. I dropped my flamer andpunchedthehorror-thingaway,sendingitsglisteningsacofgreyfleshslappingfromthewalls.Itleaptbackatme,jerkilyfast,andclampedontomyleg.Ifelttheneedle-painofmyarmourbreaking, thenthehotwashofagonyinmythigh.Iwhirledmybladeandjabbeditdown,stabbingtheshedimclear.Itwasleakingblackfluidbythen,gasping,itslittlelung-bagsquivering.I felt light-headed.Something in thatbitehadgot tome, and thenauseawasheady. It coiled and pounced again, relentless like a cornered arachnid.Somehow Imanaged to anglemy blade and shove it into the creature’s path,rammingitpoint-firstdownitsthroat.It shivered, impaled on the length of steel, thrashing and clawing. Then itstartedtohaulitselfuptowardsthehilt,usingitssixprehensilefingerstodragitselfcloser.Grimly,I reachedformydiscardedflamer.Onehandgrippingmyswordhilt,theotheronthetrigger,Ipressedthemuzzleintoitsblindlysnappingjaws.Choke,now,Iwilled,openingthenozzles.Thegushofflamesfloodedintothedaemon’smouth,spillingandbubblingandmakingitsflabbystomachswellintoaburningbag.Foramomentitwrithedonthatspit,gurglingandclawingcloser.Thenitsbodyburst,rippingopeninaflailofdraggedentrails.Ishookitfreeoftheblade,hurlingitsdeflatedhuskintothedeck,thenstoodovertheremainsanddousedthemwithwavesofflame.Thepaininmylegwasexcruciatingbythen,butIdidnotrelent.EvenasmyvisionfalteredIsawtheshedim’scorpseshrivelandtwist.Asthelastofitsunnaturalessencecurledintoash,Ifinallyceased,sinkingtoonekneeandleaningonthehiltofmyblade.Theflamesblewout,andIwasleftaloneinthebloodycorridor,stackedhighwithtorturedandbrokenflesh.Isawhowmanyofmysoldiersthatthinghadkilled–Iguessedabouttwenty–havinggnaweditswaythroughtheirchestsandlimbsinahunger-frenzy.Myownlegwasachingtoo,swollenwithpainfaroutofproportiontothesizeofthewound.I gave the comm-signal to Erefan that the daemon had been extinguished. Iscrewedmyeyesclosed,willingmyselfnottolosefocus,andshakilygottomy
feet.Ikickedthroughtheresidueoftheshedimwithmygoodleg,andsawthatithadbeenannihilated.Ihadneverseenonelikethatbefore.Iaddedagiven-nametothehundredsthatalreadypopulatedmyinternalbestiary–a‘gnawer’–althoughIwassurethatinsome forgotten library of the Inquisition there was a better title for such adisgustingexcrescenceofthewarp.Dimly,Iheardthedrumofrunningboots.Thestandarddrillwouldbeenactednow– running repairs, an assessment of the damage, consultationwithSlovo,andthenitwouldbeginalloveragain.We’ddragourselvesalittlefurtheralongthewindinggutsof thewarp,a littlemorebattered,a little lessable todefendourselvesagainsttheinevitableassault.IstartedtolimpbackthewayI’dcome,knowingthatI’dneedtoremovemyarmourandtreatthatwoundsoon.ItwasasIreachedtheendofthecorridorthatI saw the clean-up team arrive – six troopers, plus one of Slovo’s survivingmenials.Thatwasodd.TherewasnoreasonfortheNavigatortosendsomeone.Ilookedupathim,andhebowed.‘Mylord,NavigatorRehatawishestospeaktoyouatonce,’hesaid.Iwavedhimawayandmade topushpast,but–somewhatunbelievably–heheldhisground.‘Wecan’tgobackin,yousee,’hesaid,nervously.‘It’stheAstronomican.Thebeacon.It’sgone.’
Slovo lookedevenworse thannormal. Iwondered if Iwasdrivinghim tohisdeath, and a part ofme felt some guilt for that. It wouldn’t change anything,though, and I would have happily undertaken the same trials if our roles hadbeenreversed.Allthatmatteredwastheobjective,andwewereallsubordinatetothat.‘There’s just nothing,’ he said,miserably, dabbinga filthy cloth at his sallowface.Hisvisibleeyeswereringedwithpurple,andtheplugsonthebackofhishandswereswollenwithbruising.‘Itblinked.Itflickered.Thenitwentout.’Thetidingshurtme.Icouldn’tdetectthebeacon,beingevenlessreceptivetoits presence than a normal human was, but the prospect of what this mightrepresentwaslikeaphysicalblow.Erefanwasinthechamberwithme,plushisdeputyonthecommandbridge,amannamedRythan.Anewlypromoted lieutenant calledOriathnowservedasmy garrison commander, the last three having died fighting incursions. He
looked incredibly young to me, hardly more than a boy straight out of ourtraining facilityonArraissa, and Ididn’t relish theprospectofhim leadinganactionagainsttheseenemies.‘You’ve piloted ships in storms before,’ said Erefan wearily. ‘Is this not thesame?’Slovo laughed bitterly. ‘For a few moments, maybe.’ He looked at meaccusingly. ‘I can still see the conduits. I can see how theymove.But I can’torientate it to anything.We could end up flying straight into theEye, and I’dneverknow.’‘You’dknowthat,’mutteredRythan.‘Thenwemake shorter jumps,’ saidErefan, also lookingatme, this time forsupport.‘Shorter jumps!’ Slovo’s laughter gained a manic edge. ‘Oh, then, shorterjumps.’ He leaned forwards across the table, his fingers shaking from lack ofsleep. ‘They’re screaming forusout there,’hegrowled. ‘You’veno ideawhatI’mseeing.Theuniverseisbreakingapart.There’sachasmnowasfarasIcansee, andnothing leakingover from theother side.’His eyesweredartingnowbetween us all. ‘This isn’t a storm. It’s something else. I’ve seen other ships,burningdownin thedeeps,brokenopen,mauled likecarcasses. Ifwestayoutherelongenough,that’llbeus.’IlookedatErefan.Howfar?He shrugged. ‘Hard to tell.We’ve nothing to gauge by. Even the star chartsseemawry,butwe’retriangulatingagain.’Hesawthathisanswerwaslessthanuselesstome,andtriedagain.‘I’dsaythatinnormalcircumstanceswe’dbeafewweeksout,burningashardaswecould.Butwe’vegotalotofdamagenowand a fullmedicae bay. I can hardly staff the bridge, let alone the rest of theship.’Ifounditirritatinghowoftenmyofficersremindedmeoftheproblems.Theyweretired,Iknewthat,butstillitwouldhavebeenniceifjustoneofthemcouldhaveofferedsomethingmorepositivewhenIaskedthem.‘WecouldGeller-sealthecargoandbilgelevels,’saidOriaththen,hesitantly.‘Ispoke to themasterof theenginariumandhesaid itcouldbedone. It’ll floodthemwithradiation,sowe’dlosethem,butit’dbelesstopatrolatleast.’I smiled.Youthbrought someadvantages–perhaps I shouldn’thavebeen soquicktowritehimoff.Doit,IsignedtoErefan.ThenIreturnedtoSlovo.Themap.Herolledhiseyes.‘Iwonderedwhenyou’dmakemelookatitagain.Forgetit.
It’slikeItoldyou,youcan’tmapthewarp.’Perhapsyou’rewonderingwhyItoleratedhimspeakingtomelikethat.Ididn’tlikeit.Onecrunchofmyfistintohissweatyfacewouldhaveremindedhimofthe proper courtesies, but of course I couldn’t afford to lose him.His naturalaversiontomehadbeenamplifiedbywhatI’dmadehimdo,andhewasclosetolosinghismindentirely.I’d had themap inmy thoughts for a long time.Attempting to study itwasprobablypointless,but Ineverthelesshad sat in frontof it forhours, trying tounderstandwhatitrepresented.Slovo’swordshadreverberatedinmyheadmorethanonce.Suppose theyknewwhatwasgoing tohappen.Suppose theyknewwhichwaythetideswerepulling.Theyclearlyhaddone.Thiswasnotarandomdevelopment,itwassomethinglong-planned and brought to bear after the labour of millennia. That left thepossibilitythatwemightmakeuseoftheirschematics.PerhapsSlovocouldnolonger see the Astronomican, but he could see the conduits as we travelledthroughthem,andiftheycorrespondedtothemapinanywaythenheshouldbeabletomakeuseofit.Hemighthavebeenexhausted,andhemighthavebeenhalf-mad,buthewasawilyoldsoulandsawwhatIwasthinkingwithoutmehavingtograpplewiththeconceptsinsignlanguageheunderstood.‘Oh,no,’hewarned,waggingafingeras if Iwereachild inschola. ‘Oh,no.Toorisky.Fartoorisky.Wedon’tknowanythingaboutit.Perhapstheyletyoufindit.Consideredthat,eh?Iwouldn’tspitonit.’But he would domore than that. He would study it, and he would use it. Iwouldtakeituptohischambersunderarmedguardandmakehimmemoriseitsswirlsandganglia.Thealternativewastosithere,rotting,whileoursuppliesranoutandourengineschokedforlackoffuel.WhenI turned tohim,Erefanwasstudyingmewithastrangeexpression.Hedidn’tknowaboutthemap.Noneofthemdid,saveSlovo.‘Whatarewedoing,then?’heasked.Ialmosthesitated.Forallmyprofessedresolve, Iunderstood the terrible riskhere.Deathwasone thing– stranded in thevoid,gradually runningoutof airand light.Thewarpwasanother,aplace inwhichdeathwas theabsolutebestthingthatcouldpossiblyhappen.But therewasreallynochoice,not if thebalanceof thingswasunderstood. Ihad to get toTerra, and if I damnedmyself and everyone else in the attempt,
we’dstilldoit.Wegobackin,Isigned,lookingdeliberatelyatSlovothewholetime.AndwetrustinHim.
Sixhourslater,that’swhatwedid.I’dhadtoliterallygripSlovo’sheadbybothtemplestogethimtolookatthatflayed-skinschemaagain,andithadmadehisnosebleedandhisbreathingrapid,buttherewasjustenoughresidualloyaltyleftinthatdried-outbodytogethimthroughitandplansomethinglikearoute.BeforetheshutterscamedownItookafinallookoutofthereal-viewers.Thevoiditselflookedjustasiteverdid.You’dneverhaveknowntherewasanythingwrong,andthestarsburnedacrossthearchofdarkness,coldandclear.Allthatterrorwas cloistered on the other side, locked across the divide of emptiness,barredfrompsychicsbylawsolderthantheuniverseitself.I’dalwayshadsomuchtroubleunderstandingthat.Perhapsnon-blankhumanscouldgraspitmorereadily,giventheirsensitivitytothepsychicsubstrates,butforme itwasbeyond imagination.Hestiahad toldmeonce thatour limitationwasnodifferenttocolour-blindness,butthatwasacomfortingfallacy.Apersonmight live easily in aworldwhere a certain huewasmissing, but I lacked somuch more. The very characteristic that made me able to slay the daemonicmademecompletelyunabletounderstandit.Soon,though,theshutterscamedownandthevisiondisappeared.Onceallwasprepared,theklaxonssoundedinanticipationoftheleap.Imademywaytothecommandbridge–Iwanted tobeclose toErefan incase thiswentwrong.Aseverwhenweattemptedajump,allcrewwerearmedandready.Whatremainedof our standing defence force had been distributed across the decks, waitingapprehensively.Thechimessounded,thechronosclickedover,theplasmadrivescoughedoutandthewarpdrivesengaged.Forasecondtherewasthatgut-turninglurch–thesnagofrealitiespulledoutofsynch–andthenwewereimmersed,backintotherealmofdreams.Erefan’s face was set hard with concentration. For a while, the cogitatorswhirred just as normal. Signal banks ticked over, and hard-plugged servitorsgazed at scrolling rune lists. I felt the steady drumbeat of the Cadamara’ssystemspushingusdeeperin.Theatmospherebecamecolder, justasitalwaysdid.Anythinglooserattled.Themortalcrewhunchedover theirstations, tenseanddistracted.‘He’sfindingaway,’Erefansaideventually.
Ididn’tanswer,butkeptmyattentionfocusedontheship’svitalsigns.Weweregoing fast by then, pushing all power into the warp coils, eking out whatprogresswecouldbeforetheinevitableattack.Timepassed–thefirsthour,thenthe next, then the next. I never relaxed. No one on the bridge relaxed. Thestructures around us creaked and flexed, stressed by the enormous forcesthundering around them. I watched the regular status indicators from Slovo’sblister,oneeverytenminutes–nothingdetected,nothingdetected.Itcouldn’tlast.‘Ihaveasignal,’reportedRythansuddenly.Imovedovertohisstation.‘Warp-wake,’hesaid.‘Something’slockedon.’Speed?Isigned.‘Fasterthanus.’BythenErefanhadpatchedintothefeed.‘Bigger,too.’Forashiptoencounteranothershipatrandomwithinthewarpwassounlikelyas tobea statistical impossibility. Itwasn’t somuch the size– real spacewasvast enough by itself for encounters to be rare – but the unique nature of theempyrean. You couldn’t ‘see’ another ship while warp-bound, only detect theinteractionbetweenthevessels’Gellerharmonicsandthesurroundingvolumeofextended ether. It didn’t even mean that the ships were in close proximity,physicallyspeaking,onlythattheywereoccupyingcoextensivepocketsofwarpspace, although given the reduction in viable routes brought about by Slovo’s‘great rift’, it seemedunlikely that thisonewasn’t rightonour tail.Perhaps ithadfoundusasaresultofsomecoincidenceofgalacticproportions.Orperhapswhateverflewithadaccesstoscryingmethodsandpsychicexpertisedeniedtous.Theyknowwhatwe’redoing,Slovohad said.They knowwherewe’regoing,andthey’llbreakusopentopreventit.Still, the matter was largely moot provided we both stayed in the warp. Nointeractioncouldtakeplacebetweenus,onlyakindofshadowplaythatwouldlastuntiloneorbothofusbrokethebarrierbackintotherealuniverse.NodoubtSlovocouldseeittoo,lockedwithinhisblisterofvisions,butIcouldn’taskhimto clarify, not without breaking the concentration he needed to keep us fromsmashingintoachronovortexandhurlingusoutofspaceandtimealtogether.Maintainstatus,Isigned,watchingtheship’ssignalscarefully.‘Holdingsteady,’Rythanreported,hisvoicetight.Erefan shot off some orders to the enginarium and redistributed part of the
standingreservetotheCadamara’svoidgunbatteries,suchastheywere.Thatwas standard operating procedure, but I found myself almost smiling at itsoptimism–anythingpowerfulenoughtobecapableoftrackingusthroughtheetherlikethiswasunlikelytobeaslightlyarmedaswewere.Itwouldn’tgoaway.EverytimeIlookedattheaugursweeps,thewarp-wakewasthere,gainingonus,forgingafasterandhugerpaththroughthemaze.Ithadclearlylockedonandwaswaitingforthechancetopounce.Andthen,justthen,camethereportitneeded.‘Gellerintegrityweakening,’camethecallfromfurtherdownthebridge’srowsofsensorstations.IreceivednoticefromSlovo’smenialsjustasecondlater.‘Daemonspoor detected,’ chirped themonotone readout. ‘Levels already highandclimbing.’Erefanturnedtomeforguidance.Ilethimwait.Something boomed into the ship, knocking us in a slew to starboard. Theoverheadarchescreaked,andashoweroffinedustdriftedtowardsthedeck.I looked at the augur sweep again and saw our shadow. It was, if anything,gettingcloser.Damnthem,Ithought.They’reincollusion.‘Gelleraegisdrainedacrossouterhull-wards,’cameanother report, tinnyandunwelcome.‘Estimatedtimetofailure–threeminutes.’Theshipbuckedagain,as ifwe’dsomehowslammedoveranobstacle inourpath. I heard the scrape and screech of things outside, and the longwhine ofwhatmight have been talons downour spine.A bulkhead started to crack – Icouldseeafiligreeofmicroscopiclinesspreadingacrossitlikeagewrinkles.Slovo’sstrainedvoicecrackledintomyearpiece.‘Getusout,’hewarned.‘Getusoutnow.’Still Iwaited.Thiswaswhat theywanted.Theywere like apackofhunters,flushingusfromthethicketandintotheopenplain.Something broke up high, overwhere the lumen-clusters hung, and the deckwasshoweredwithsplintersofglass.Ifeltthedeckkeelover,swingingusdownandround,andthewarpshuttersrattledintheirarmatures.Erefangavemeasharplook.‘Orders?’heasked,pointedly.Iwantedtowait.Iwantedtoletthemin,andtakethemonagain.Ilikedendingtheshedim.IlikedthelookofoutrageontheirbestialfacesastheyrealisedthatIwouldnotbetheirvictimbutwouldbesendingthembacktotheirhell-realmtognawonfailure.SuchfightswerethereasonIhadbeenmade,afterall.
Warningrunesglowedintolife,klaxonskickedoff.Crewmembersscrambledtokeepusflyingstraight,buffetednowbywindsthatwerenotwinds.‘OneminutetoGellerfailure,’camethetinnyvoiceagain.Thewallofthebridgebegantobulgeinwards,onlymetresfromwhereIstood.Iwatchedthemetalstretchintotheshapeofafist,curledandreadytoslamitswayin.Frombelowus,theshoutinghadalreadystarted.‘They’relatchedonthehull!’Slovoblurted.‘They’regettinginside!’Erefanlostpatience.‘Begincrashoutofwarp,’heordered, lookingatmethewholetime.The crewdidn’t react.Some looked at him,others looked atme.Acogitatorstationexploded,sendingstaticskitteringacrossthedeck,andstill theywaitedfortheorder.Theywereagoodcrew,alltold.Theyhadworkedfaithfullyforawomantheyinstinctively despised, and even now they held off until I gave them thecommand.Theydeservedtolivealittlelonger.Crashout, I signed, beginning a flurry of concise orders.Void shields up onexit. Route plasma drive power to gunnery banks. Begin fire-sequence. Awaittargetingmatrixonmaterialisation.Erefanbarkedout therestof theorders,beginning thewind-downthatwouldsee us hurtling back into reality. Fresh warning-blares sounded and the runelenses streamedwith screeds of trajectory data. The ship yawed again,wildlythis time, and the swelling fist extended further, ripping thewall-matterwideruntilIthoughtitwouldsurelysplitapart.‘Outnow!Outnow!’IheardSlovosquawking.Erefanworkedquickly,poweringdownthewarpdrivesandsendingus intoarealspacespiral. Itwasaviolentexit,smashingandbattering theCadamara’salreadybruisedsuperstructure.Onceacrossthethresholdweflewintorealityasifspatfromthescabrousmouthofthegodsthemselves.‘Shutters up!’ Erefan shouted. ‘Run out macrocannons! All crew to combatstations!’Everything burst into motion – the crew were running, skidding across ateeteringdeck.Our internalgrav-pullstuttered,ourundercookedplasmadrivesblastedemptily.Thedamagewroughtby theemergingshedimexplodedas thenascent manifestations were ripped back into the warp – the bulkhead blewapart,thebulgingwallcollapsedinarainoftumblingbrace-spars.Augurlensesfilled with flickering representations of local space, and for a moment I saw
nothing,anddaredtohopewe’dcrashedoutfarenoughawayforafixtofail.I stumbled over to the nearest full-spectrum scanner and widened the lensaperture.Thereal-viewshuttersclangedopen,andacrosstheforwardoculuswesawaswathofspaceyawnawayfromus,emptyandstar-strewn.‘Fullburnahead!’Erefanbellowed.‘Clampthatbulkheaddown!’Wewereout.Wewerealone.Thedaemon-scrapedhullwasstillvoidtight.Weweregoingtomakeitagain.Thentheoculusblazedwithariotoffalsecolour,shininglikemultihuedsunsgoingnova.‘Downnadir!’roaredErefan,hisvoicecrackingnow.‘Fullhard-burnandrolloutstarboardgunnery!’Isawthepursuingvesselshootfromthegapingwoundinrealspace.Ihadnoideaexit-precisionlikethatwaspossible–itswungintovisiblerange,hugeandsmouldering,itsancient,char-blackhullstillburningwithwarpfire.OnelookatthatshipandIknewweweren’tgettingoutofthis.Openfire,Isigned.Enactfirst-stageevasionpattern.Itwasalreadytoolate.Isawourmacrocannonarrayloose,sendingaspreadofordnanceskitteringwideofthetarget,andwatchedthestarssmearawayaswetumbledintoasteeplingdive.Theywerebettershots–abarrageofhigh-energylances smacked into us, exploding our still-charging void shields and blowingtheircoverageintoahailofelectrostatic.Weweredead in thevoidnow,ourprotectiongoneandourweaponsof littleuseagainsttheslab-hulledhorrorthatloomedoverus.Wewerewhirlingsofastitwashard togetaglimpseof it in thereal-viewers,but Icouldsee terrifyingbanksofesotericweaponryhanginglikewitheredfruitundertwistedboughs.They wouldn’t destroy us – a voidship was too valuable – but it took onlysecondsforthelock-ondetectorstoblare,signifyingateleportlocus.‘Stand by to repel boarders!’ ordered Erefan, reaching for his weapon andcrouchingdownbythecommandthrone.Thentheairrippedapartinahardshiverofdisplacement.Thespaceoverthecommanddaisfrozeintoablazeofwhite-silver,andether-lightningsnarledoutacrossthedecking.Outfromtheheartofthecoldinfernostrodesixfigures.I’dalreadyzeroedinontheleader,markinghimforbothflameandblade,andmycalvestightenedfortheleapthatwouldtakemeintocontact.‘Standdown,inthenameoftheThrone!’boomedavoicethatchilledmetomycore.Ifroze,suddenlybewildered,beforethelastsliversofether-matterrippedaway.
SistersofSilenceemergedfromthebreakingclouds,fourofthem,cladlikeIwasinfullbattle-amourandcarryinggreatzweihandersthatranwithblueflame.Theyspreadoutcalmly,coveringeverystrategicpointandradiatingsuchanauraofpsychicblanknessthatthemortalcrewrecoiledasifstruckbyfists.Thetwoothersweredifferent.Theywerehuge,toweringaboveusall,encasedin full-bodiedgoldenarmour that swamandwinkedwith scatteredwarp-light.ForamomentIthoughttheymightbeshedim,cladinaspectsofdeceptionandglory, sent tobafflemebefore theypulledmymortal frameapart. Iaimedmyflamer at the leader’s baroque helm, ready to emptymy promethium reservesintothatterriblemaskofwonder.He came towards me. He carried a crackling force spear, a weapon sogrotesquelyover-engineeredthatIwouldnothavebeenabletolift it, letaloneuseit.‘YouwereoftheArraissaconvent,’thecreaturesaid.Myfingerstilllingeredoverthetrigger.Inodded.Thecreature reachedupand removed itshelm. I sawahuman face revealed,though greater, like a Space Marine’s to look at, only less brutal and morebeautiful. Itwasacourtier’s faceasmuchas itwasasoldier’s,betrayingbothpowerandsubtlety.Hedeactivatedtheenergyfieldoverhisblade.‘Areyouthelast?’heasked.Ididn’tknowtheanswertothat,andhesitated.Then,tomycompletesurprise,he asked the question again, this time in flawlessThoughtmark –Are you thelast?Tothebestofmyknowledge,Ireplied,myfingersdancing.IthadbeenalongtimesinceI’dbeenable tomakeuseof themedium’sfull fluency,anddespiteeverythingIfeltanalmostemotionalrelease.Thenwewerefortunatetofindyou,thegoldenonecontinued.IamNavradaranoftheEphoroioftheAdeptusCustodes,andIamheretotakeyouhome.Hiseyesflickeredtowardsmystill-activatedflamer,andheshotmeabrief,drysmile.Deactivateyourweapon,please,hesigned.Timeisshort,andifyouwillrefrainfromimmolatingme,thereismuchIhavetotellyou.
TIERON
Laterwewould call them theDaysofBlindness.Thatwas the timewhenwesaw nothing and heard nothing.Wewere as alone aswe had been before theEmperorhaddeliveredus,sunderedfromourgrandImperiumandcastadriftonthefaceoftheabyss.Itwasatimeofterror.Alllawsweresuspended,eventhoseoftimeandspace.Wediscoveredlaterthatallworldshadexperiencedthesamehorrificisolation,but the duration varied wildly. Some reported mere days of blindness, othersmonths.ForallIknow,theremaybemanysystemsstill inthatterriblegripofnothingness.Itwascausedbythewarp,ofcourse,stainingintothevoidlikebloodinwater.Everything it touched became mad, and the old boundaries flexed and brokearound it.Wediscovered thenhowprescient thewarningsof theoldseershadbeen,asourmanysinsfinallycaughtupwithus.OnTerra,atthesourceofit,theblindnesslastedjustoveramonth.Thirty-threedaysoffearandviolenceoverlookedallthetimebyournewskiesofblood-red.The riotingbecameuncontrollable, spreading likewildfireand fuelledby falseguides. The entire planet was placed under martial law, and every availablememberof theAstraMilitarumwaspressed into immediateaction.RegimentsstillbeingraisedfordeploymenttoCadiaandArmageddonwererecalledfromtheir orbital musters and sent into the whirlwind of the hive-zones, forced toopen fire not on xenos or heretics, but on their own kind storming supplybunkersorransackingcathedralsforgold.Thirty-threedaysseemssuchashorttime,setagainstthespanofyearsbefore
and after, but in truth it felt like an eternity. I barely slept during the wholeperiod,andonlystavedoffmaniaduetoheavyself-dosingofnarcotics.Theairfizzed with fevered energies, making true rest or contemplation impossible.Every glance seemed to disclose fresh terrors in the dark. Iwouldwake fromsnatchedhalf-hours of slumber cryingout, clutching atmy sweat-dank sheets.OnoneoccasionIlookedinthemirrorwhileshavingtoseealeeringdaemon-facestaringbackatme,and Ihad to shatter theglass toget ridof it.AnothernightInearlychokedonmyownnightmaresofbeingskinnedalivebylaughingbutchersinwingedhelms,andittookJektocalmmedownandstopmechewingmyowntongueoff.Yes, Jekwas sharingmybed.Donot judgeusharshly for that–wehadnotgivenintobaselust,buthadbeenthrowntogetherbysomethinglikeneed.BackthenshewastheonlyoneIcouldtrustcompletely,andIthinkshefeltthesameway about me. If she had not been there, I do not know what would havehappened tome. I clung toher, and she clung tome.Wewere likeneophytesagaininthefaceofthatmaelstrom,strippedofourofficesandpretensionsandreducedtowhatwehadalwaysreallybeen.‘Ishouldbeabletoshakefreeofit,’Itoldher,lyinginthedark.‘Theworstwillpass,’shesaid,notsoundingatallcertain.I chewedmy lip nervously.The shadows inmy chamber seemedunnaturallyblack,asiftheywouldsuddenlyslitherupontothebedandstrangleme.‘Iwassosure,’Isaid.‘Sureofwhat?’‘TheCouncil. Iwas so sure the Legiowould be remade, and Iwould be itsarchitect,andthenallwouldbewell.’‘Therewasneveraguarantee.’ButIrememberedwhatValorishadtoldme.HehadthoughtIwastheconduitfor His will. I had come to believe it too. What else could explain myextraordinarycertainty,emergingfromalifeinwhichcertaintyhadalwaysbeenabsent?Suchhubris.‘PerhapsHenolongerevenlives,’Imurmured.‘Hush!’ Jek chided urgently, sitting up and pressing her finger tomymouth.‘Donoteventhinkit.’OnceIwouldhavefoundthenotion itselfabsurd. Iwouldnothaveuttered iteveninprivate,waryofthelisteningdevicesoftheOrdoHereticus.NowIfoundI cared nothing for spies and inquisitors. All was undone, and there was no
greaterterrortobeunleashedthanthatwhichalreadyhadbeen.Irose.Itwasstillearly,severalhoursbeforedawn,butthesicklyredglow,nowpermanent, leaked through thedrapesandacrossmychamber. Ipadded to thepulse-shower cubicle andwashed the worst of the night-sweat frommy skin.UndertheharshlumensIlookedpastierandflabbierthanever,andmycheekshungfrommyboneslikerags.BythetimeIreturnedtodress,Jekhadfallenasleepagain.Ilookedatherforawhile.Shewassomuchyounger.Perhapsthatmadeitharderforher.Ihadseentoomuchhopedrainawayovertheyearsalready–sheshouldhavelivedtoseebettertimes.I could not linger, of course. Despite the fatigue and the sickness, we werebusier thanwehadeverbeen.TheCouncilwas feverishwithactivity,passingresolution after resolution. Martians were crawling through the deeps of theThrone and the conduits of the Astronomican, prying and testing and tryingwhatever theycould torestore thesacredbeacon.Ihadguessedforsometimethat they were charlatans in many ways, dabbling in things they no longerunderstood,andtheirhaplesstinkeringduringthattimeonlyreinforcedmyview.When I looked Raskian in the eye – or rather, what passed for his eyes – Idetectedarealfearthere:notofdeathorpain,butofbeingdiscovered,foundoutasignorantanddeludedaboutthatwhichtheysojealouslyguardedastheirownrealm.OnceIhadmademyselfasrespectableaspossible,Ileftmybedchamberandlimped to the audience rooms. Guards were every where, all carrying theirweapons unholstered and ready for use. They were twitchy, shadowing evenseniorofficialslikemeuntiltheyweresureIwasnotsomesimulacrumsenttodeceive them.Theyweren’t entirely stupid to think that– reportswere rifeofbody-wearers infiltrating thePalace thenopening fireandslaughteringdozens.Noonetrustedanyone,andeveryorderwascheckedandcounter-checkedbeforebeing followed. That made us slow to react. We were living in a fog ofconfusion,somethingnodoubtintendedbyourenemies.ThefirstmeetingIhad thatdaywaswithRepresentativeArx, themistressoftheInquisition.Ihadbarelymademyselfcomfortablewhensheentered,glidingintothechamberlikeablackswan.Arxwasastrangeone,andIdidnotknowherwell.Ialwaysfoundinquisitorshardtodealwith–theywereintensesouls,drivenbyforcesthatIdidn’tfullyunderstand.TheRepresentativewasdrawnfromtheranksoftheOrdoMalleus,thedaemonhunters,afactthatIfoundgavesomerarecomfortduringthathard
time. Of all the High Lords, she was amongst the most composed just then,having been exposed tomalign phenomena throughout her long career in theImperium’sserviceandthusinuredtoitsworsteffects.‘Cancellarius,’shesaid,bowingslightly.‘Representative,’Ireplied,gesturingtowardsalowleatherarmchairclosetothefireplace.Intimespastwemighthaveindulgedinsmalltalk,askingafteroneanother’sstafforrelations,musingontheabsurditiesoflifeintheAdministratum,butnolonger.Shecamestraighttothepoint.‘There aredaemonson thisworld,’ she said, flatly. ‘Consider that.Noplanethas hadmore scrutiny than this one. Themerest hint of heresywas punishedwithout pity. And now there are the foulest creatures in all eternity caperingwithinsightofthePalace.’Iknewit.I’dseentheclassifieddocuments,andheardthetestimonyfromthosebraveenoughtoventureintotherestivehives.I’devenseenthemmyself,unlessthatmirrorhadbeenahallucination.‘Canitbecontained?’Iasked,feelinggroggyandwantingmoresleep,knowingIhadhoursofmeetingsaheadofme.‘I’vemobilisedallmyinquisitorsin-world.Dozensmorearebeingpulledbackfromstationselsewhere,butwecan’tgobeyondtheSolSystem.Idreadtothinkwhat’shappeningoutside.’‘Titan,then,’Isaid.Iwasnotsupposed toknowabout theGreyKnights.Onlya fewof theHighLordswere,plusthehighestechelonsoftheOrdoMalleus.It’sfunnywhatyoupickup,though,overthecenturies.Forallitsundoubtedefforts,theImperium’sneveractuallybeenverygoodwithsecrets.Arx knew the score, of course. ‘The request’s already beenmade,’ she said.‘Valorisspoke tome.Youcredit that?Ourgoldenprotectors, thosewhomyouwishedtosendoffintothegrinderofCadia,arealreadyaskingforhelp.’I could have donewithout the sarcasm. It was bad enough to seemy hopesdashedsopubliclywithoutareminderthatmyproposalwouldalsohavestrippedusofourmostcapabledefenders.‘Andwhatwastheirresponse?’Atthat,Arxlaughed.I’dneverseenherlaughbefore,andIneverwishtoagain.It was entirely without human qualities – a cynical expression of bleakamusementthatexposedmoreofhersoulthanIthinkshe’dintended.‘Theirresponse?They’resendingforcestoLuna.’
Iwasmomentarilytakenaback.‘I’vehadnoreportsofdisturbanceonLuna.’‘No.That’sthepoint.TheGreyKnightshave…capabilities.That’swheretheythinkthenextmovewillplayout.’I rubbed my hands over my eyes. Throne, I was tired. ‘Then we’ll need toreinforcethedockyards–’Ibegan.‘No,’shesaid.‘No,we’llneedourforceshere.They’resendingwhattheycanspare.GrandMasterAnvalLaraonhasdividedhisforcesthreeways–astandingdefenceonTitan,amajorattackgroupforLuna,anda reservedetachment forTerra. The latterwill be theweakest of the three – littlemore than a sop forTrajannValoris,tokeeprelationssweet.’Icouldn’thelpmysmile–itslippedout,aslyone,releasedthroughexhaustion.‘I’dliketoseethosetwomeet,’Isaid.‘Iwouldn’t,’Arxsaid,primly.‘Sohereitis.We’llhaveminimalGreyKnightssupport.ThePalaceis thepriority.That,andthe FortressoftheAstronomican.Wecanplausiblykeepthosesecure.Therest…’She trailed off. It took me a moment to realise what she was suggesting –abandon theplanet to ruinandconfusion. If I’dheard it fromanyother lips, Iwouldhavesnortedinderision.‘Thenyou’resayingwecan’tholdthisworldinitsentirety?’Iasked,wantingtobesureIunderstood.‘Iam.’‘ThisisTerra.’‘I’mawareofthat.’‘Wehavebillionsunderarms.WehaveTitans.WehaveNavalsupport.’‘Indeed.Andthey’reallgoingquite,quitemad.’Shesaiditsocalmly.Iknewshewasright–Throne,I’dseenthereportsfromoverrun Arbites stations and watched the vid-feeds of hab-towers descendingintoanarchy.Theage-oldgripofthepriestswasbreaking.Realityhadcracked.Theskieswereonfireandnoonehadsleptfordays.‘You’vespokentoHaemotalionaboutthis?’Iasked.‘You’ll do that.You’ll speak to the others too. It’s about priorities.We can’taffordtomakemistakesnow.’Ihadthathorriblesinkingfeelingthen–thatshewasright,andthatveryfewotherswouldseeit,andthatallthatlayaheadwasmoregrindandconflict.‘We’velostthebeacontemporarily,’Isaid.‘We’vesomeworktodotorestoreorder. You can’t be suggesting we cede our control just when things getdifficult.’
Atthat,Arxleanedforwards,restingherelbowsonherknees.Shewasahardwomantolookat–allbonesandseverity.‘Ihadamandeliveredtomycaresomeweeksago,’shesaid.‘Hewassentupto me by a watch division of the south-eastern wall sector. I think he wasdetained by a Custodian, one whom you may possibly know, but that isunimportant.Whatisimportantisthis–hewasnorantingdemagogue.Hewassteeped in the kind of corruption I’ve only seen onworlds far from here andriddled with the warp. And once we applied the instruments, we began tounderstandwhathasbeenhappening.’I couldn’t look away.Arx had the air of awomanwho had nothingmore tolose–thealmostfeyresolveofthedamned.‘He knew so much,’ she went on. ‘He knew things even my adepts don’t.There’sablindandmutilatedsorcererdowninthegaolscallinghimselfIskandarKhayon,andothers,andthey’reall inagreement toastartlingdegree.They’retelling us all we could ever wish to know, these people, because they aren’tafraid of anything anymore. They’re telling us of theCrimson Path. They’retellingusoftheGreatRift.They’retellingusthingsthatweren’tpossiblebeforearepossiblenow,andit’sbecominghardnottobelievethem.’‘They’relying.’‘No, chancellor. They’re not. Why would they?’ She pressed her palmstogether. ‘Every war we’ve ever fought, every crusade we’ve ever launched,everyBlackCrusadewe’veeverfendedoff,it’sallbeenleadinguptothis.Askyour Custodian friends – they know it too. That’s why they’re paralysed bydoubt. They know things we’ve forgotten. It all rests on this moment. Ourdecisionsnowcandamnus.’Asshespoke,Ifeltincreasinglysick.Ihadlivedforsolongattheepicentreoftheempire,farfromthewarsandthesqualor,andithadmademeflaccid.‘Whyareyoutellingmethis?’Iasked.‘I’m telling everyone the same thing,’ she said. ‘We have anathema psykanareturning,somerunningaheadofthestorm,otherscaughtinitsapproach.We’llneed as many as we can gather, and the Captain-General has been active inbringingthemback.’Ihesitated.‘Hedidn’tknowwe’dorderedthemhome.’‘You believed that? You’re losing your touch, chancellor. He’s been doingeverythinghecan tocollect themforsome time.Theyalwaysfought together,thosetwo.Herecognisedthesignsawhileback,andIsuspectonlyhehadtheknowledgetogetamessagetothemintime.’
Ifeltfoolish.Eventswereracingaheadofmyabilitytocomprehend,letaloneinfluence. Iwonderedhow long thishadbeengoingon,andhowmuch ithadbeengoverned,ifatall,bymyentreatiestothem.‘ThenLammawasright,’Isaid.‘We’regoingbacktotheoldtemplates.’‘Someof them.’Arx stood up then, brushing her long robes about her. I didlikewise.‘IsupportedyouinCouncil,chancellor,becauseyouwereright.Thischanges nothing – for now. Thingswill have to alter in time, but first comessurvival.Youunderstandthis?’Shecamecloser,andIsawthefinelinesofcarearoundhereyes. ‘You’ve seenusall comeandgo.Wemustkeep theCounciltogetheronthis.’I noddedweakly. There was somuch to process. ‘Thank you for tellingmethesethings.’‘Whatwesaidwillremainsecret.’‘Ofcourse.’‘Notthatthere’smuchcauseforsecretsnow.’She turned to leave. Just as she did so, I felt a sudden surge of irritation. Itmighthavebeenbuildingforweeks,promptedbymyrecentfailures,ormaybetriggered by the exhaustion infesting my system.Whatever the cause, it wasmostunlikeme,butitspilledoutnonetheless.‘We’re not doneyet,Representative,’ I said, causingher to turn back to faceme.‘I’vehadmyaidestellmewe’redoneforfiftyyears,butwe’renot.TherearedaemonsonTerra?Therewerebefore.Damnthem.Damnthemall.Thisisourhome.’I couldn’t decipher her expression then. Was she amused? Contemptuous?Confused?Maybeallofthosethings.Intheend,though,shejustnodded.‘Itisatthat,’shemurmured.Thenshewasgone, leavingmealone in thechamberIhadspentmylifetimebeautifying. I looked around at the fine things, the objects that had givenmesuch pleasure. I could no longer summon enthusiasm for them. They werefragile. Collecting them seemed more like an indulgence than ever, thecompensatoryoccupationofaweakmanwhoshouldhavebeenstronger.But then my comm-bead clicked, and a dozen new bulletins ran down myretinal-feed.SoIstartedwalking.Workcalled.Asalways,workcalled.
At least I had direction now. We called it the Arx Doctrine, the strategy ofreinforcing the essential coreof theplanet: theSanctum Imperialis, thePalace
perimeter, the still-dormantFortress of theAstronomican and theother capitalstructures of theAdministratum. I spentmy time shuttling fromHighLord toHigh Lord, cajoling and persuading and bribing so that dissension wasminimised.Somesaw thenecessityof it from the start.Oddlyenough, Haemotalionwasmystaunchestally in thosedays.Hewassufficientlycold that thesacrificeofbillions to save the inner core of the Imperium never seemed like a difficultchoicetomake.Othersresisted.Icouldunderstandwhy–wehadnotyetbeeninvadedinanysignificant numbers, and the unrest across the planet was, while disturbing,hardlycritical.Perethinparticularwasloathtoseethestandingdefenceordersunravel,forshecommandedthevastresourcesoftheImperialNavywithintheSol System, and perhaps was seduced by their huge potential. We had fullyequipped squadrons in orbit, including system-destroying battleships stuffedwith whole regiments of shock troops. We had thousands of regimentsgarrisoned across the world’s surface, plus three full Titan maniples, hugevolumes of Mechanicus forces, an entire company of Imperial Fists, plusscatteredrepresentativesofotherSpaceMarineChapters.Sowewerehardlydefenceless, but neitherwerewe facingnormal foes.Themadnesswithin the citizenry spread quickly, fuelled by starvation and loss ofbelief.Reports of daemonic incursions eruptedwith staggering frequency, andour resident inquisitorsweresoon run ragged trying toeradicate themall.Thefailure of theAstronomicanmeant that the steady run of cargo ships, alreadyinterruptedbyourdefencearrangements,driedupcompletely.Ithadlongbeenamaxim that the loss of threemeals was enough to send aman feral. For ouralready starving population, cowed by disease and the incessant whispers ofspiritsinthenight,itdidn’ttakethatmuch.And,aboveall,twowordswereonallourlips,neverutteredbutalwaysthere–TheDespoiler.So the Arx Doctrine took shape. Regular regiments were pulled back to thewalls, ceding control ofmassiveurban tracts to theAdeptusArbites.Manyofthose regions swiftlydescended into fulldisorder,whileothersonly retainedasemblanceofcontrol.Ifoundtheexperiencepainful.Youcanimaginewhatitfeltliketolistentothecomm-feeds from desperate sector prefects, pleading for support as theircommandcitadelswereswampedbystarvingmobsofheretics.Therewasoneexchange I remember keenly even now – a young-looking woman with abloodiedforeheadanddamagedarmour,beggingme tosendreinforcements to
heroutlyingfief.‘There’snoassaultonthePalace!’shecried,outraged.‘Yourwallsaresecure!BytheHolyThrone,whatreasondoyouhavenottohelpus?’I could only look at her, powerless to intervene.What could I say?Thatweknewevenworsewascoming?That thegreatestofourkindbelieved theEndTimeswereuponusandtheEmperor’shallsthemselveswereatrisk?‘Remainstalwart,prefect,’Isaid,hatingthesoundofmyvoice.‘Helpwillbesentwhenitcan.’‘You’vemurderedus,then,’shespat.‘Youdamneddogs!You’vemurdered–’Icutthefeed.Icouldn’tlistentoanymore.Slowly,though,overdaysandweeks,webuiltupwhatdefenceswecould.Theorbital grid remained mostly intact even as we lost contact with roughly aquarterof theplanetarysurface.ThepriestsofMars, lesssusceptible tomortalweakness,lentuswhataidtheycould,thoughIsuspecttheywerealsoterrifiedabout the precariousness of Mars. Our battleships maintained a tight cordonthroughout the Sol System, plying the cold depths even as the Throneworldwitheredunderpreternaturalflames.On the twentieth day of the Blindness came two developments that gave ushope.Thefirstwasaflightofsilver-greylandersdroppedfromastrikecruisernewly locked ingeostationover thePalace.Theoccupantsof thosecraftweredispatched directly into the heart of the Sanctum, striding in pale grey robesbeneaththebloodystorm-light.Iwitnessed theirarrival froma longwayaway,butevenadistantglimpseofGreyKnightsgavemytiredoldsoulabriefspikeofexhilaration.Intimespastthat sight would have seen me mind-wiped, or perhaps killed, but those oldstrictures seemed pointless now and I did not fear them. Theywere going toconferwithValorishimself,Iunderstood,andthencetothewallsthemselves.Icould not tell you how many had come. Perhaps fifty? It was not what weneeded,butIwasmindfulofArx’swords,andknewthattheirgreateststrengthhadbeenmusteredcloseby.Still,itwassomething.Thesecondcauseforhopewaslessvisible.HadArxnotsaidanythingImightneverhaveknownof it,butoncetheseedhadbeenplantedIwasrelentless intracking it down. My agents were sent into every sensor station we stillcontrolled, sifting through millions of planetfall records and orbital transferdockets.Themorewelooked,themorewefound.Theyhadbeencareful, and theyhadbeendiscreet,but it’sveryhard tokeepsecrets entirely on Terra from someone who knows where to look. Sisters of
Silencehadbeen landed formonths, sometimes fromBlackShips,other timesfrom chartered transports or military convoys. They had disappeared into theTowerofHegemon,wherethetrailhaddied.I wondered who else knew about it. Had Valoris informed his fellow HighLords yet?Perhaps someof themhadbeen in on this for a long time,merelyplayingalongwiththerestoftheCouncil.InordinarytimesIwouldhavedelvedformore,buttheknowledgethattheywereherewasenough.ItgavemesomecomforttoknowthatitwasnotjusttheEnemywhohadbeenpreparing–othershadforeseenthedarkeningoftheskiesandhadsetplansinmotiontocounterit.ButIdoubtthatanylivingsoulonthisworld,saveperhapsHewhodwellsontheundyingThrone,hadany trueconceptionofwhatwascoming forusnext.TheGreyKnights, bywhatevermeans they used to peer into themurk of thefuture,hadbeenclosesttothetruth–Luna,notTerra,wasthefirsttargethit.Allweknewofitherewasasuddenflashofmultihuedlightthatbrieflypiercedthegyreofcloudsaboveus.I had been high up inmy private sanctum, scouring the day’smany piles offranticmissives.Jekwaswithme,asalways,andthecandleswereburninglow.Suddenly, shafts of vivid illumination lanced through the high windows,breakingonthestoneflags.Bothofusdroppedwhatweweredoingandracedtotheiron-barredwindows.Jekgaspedoutloud.Idroppedmyquill.Wecouldseethestars.Ishouldexplainwhythatwassoremarkable.IhadneverseenstarsonTerra.Noneofushad–thetoxiccloudcoverwasabsolute,allthetime,andhadbeenfor thousands of years. Now, though, we were staring into a night sky offlickering,dancingaurorae,tornopenforthefirsttimeinlivingmemory.Isawthehullsof the low-orbitdefenceplatformsatguardover theworld-city, theirundersides blinking with markers and their position thrusters churning blue-white. I saw millions of military aircraft in stark relief, zigzagging acrosstorturedskiesonstrafingrunsagainstourownkind.Butmostofall,Isawthemoon–Luna,ourgreatnavaldockyard,byreputationasdirt-greyanddamagedas the world it circled. Just then, though, it was dazzling, a disc of reflectedsunlightthatmademyeyeswater.‘By the Throne…’ Jek murmured, her gaze moving over the newly scouredheavens.Therewasaterriblebeautytoit–astark,coldvistathatbrieflymadeitpossibletoforgetallthelong-ingrainedfilthandturbulence.‘Donotlook,’Isaid,draggingherbackfromthewindow.The lightsdancedharder, rippingawaygreatsheetsofbloodycloud,but Ino
longerlikedthewaytheyshimmered.Theshiftingcoloursbecamepainful,andmoretears trickleddownmycheeks.ThefullfaceofLunawastoobright, toolurid,asifitscorehadbeenconjuredintodetonating.Icouldhearshrieking,too,out on the night’swind, and the voices did not sound even vaguely human. Ipulledtheshuttersclosedandhurriedfromthechamber,Jekatmyside.‘Whatisit?’sheasked,herowneyesbloodshotandblinking.‘Surelyyoucanhearthat,’Imuttered,headingasswiftlyasIcouldtowardsmycommandnexus.‘Somethingbad.’By the time I reached thehall, our incomingdata-feedswerealmost jammedwithprioritysignals.Mystaffwererunningbetweencogitatorstandswithlongsheaves of parchment in sweaty hands. The high armourglass windows wereswimmingwith thesame iridescentbeamsof light,cast froma firmament thatwasnolongerobeyingnaturallaws.‘Getshuttersdownoverthose!’Iordered,hurryingforthestrategiumplatform.By the time I made it there, Jek had recovered her habitual poise and wasfilteringthewheatfromthecomm-chaff.‘MultiplelaunchesfromTerra,’shemurmured,scrollingdownlongrune-lists.‘TheAdeptusAstarteshavebeenactivated.Valorishasissuedhisowntroops.’Ihadorders fromHaemotalioncloggingmyownfeed– to freeupMilitarumassets for immediate rerouting toLuna, to shut down all non-essential commsoutsidethePalaceperimeter,toliaisewithValoris’commandtoenactimmediatelock-down.‘What’s happening up there?’ I asked, unable to gain any sense from theincreasinglypanickedseriesofmissives.‘Unnaturalactivity,’Jekconfirmed,studyingourclandestinechannelintoArx’shierarchy.‘Massive.They’vegotGellerreadingsoffthescale.’Ileanedonthetableheavily.‘Ihavetoseeit,’Isaid.Jeklookedatmewithsomeamusement.‘Idon’tthinkwe’llbeofmuchuseupthere,lord.’Lord.Shehadn’tcalledmethatindays,anditfeltwildlyinappropriatenow.‘I’msickofthis,’Isaid.‘I’vewatchedthemallgotowar,andpulledthestringsinsafety.Enough.Ihavetoseeit.’I started tomove,andJekpulledmeback. ‘You’reanold, fatman,’ she saidcrossly. ‘You’ve got no business there. It’ll kill you quickly and do them nogood.’Iwastootiredtoargue.Itwasprobablymadness,butthenwewereallgoingmadanyway,justasArxhadsaid.Theshutterswerecomingdowntooslowly,
andthevividlightsskippedacrosstheinteriorofmysanctumlikeamockery.‘I’ve lived too long anyway,’ I growled, pulling my sleeve free of her grip.‘Givetheorderformylifter.’Sheglaredatmeforamoment,disbeliefonherface.Thenshelaughed.Therewassomethingcrazedinallofus,backthen–ourmoodsseemedtoswayandfracturelikethestorm-lightaboveus.‘Onemorepieceofinsanity,’shesaid.‘Sobeit.I’llcometoo.’
Weboostedcleartwohourslater.Ittookthatlongtoreachthelandingpadsandprep the lifter – a big, old and cumbersome RE-45 based on a long-obsoleteMilitarumdesign.Wewentwithaminimalentourage, just twentyguardsfrommyown retinue, plus aNaval liaisonofficer and someofmy signals officers.Thewaitforlift-offwastortuous,thoughwereceivedpreciouslittleinformationofanysubstancefromLunaduringthattime.Allwecouldclearlyascertainwasthat an enemy force had somehow broken through our impeccably organisedcordon and made a landing on the satellite, and that our defences hadimmediatelyrespondedandthatallhellhadbeenunleashed.Anythingmorethanthatwaslostinthegeneralconfusionorclampeddownonbythemilitaryauthorities.Attimesofcrisislikethismyofficewasnotincludedin the first tier of communication, and I guessed the Adeptus Custodesthemselves,orperhapseventheImperialFists,hadreserveddetailedinformationfortheirownuse.Sobythetimewefinallytroopedintothecrewholdofthelifterwestillknewalmost nothing about what we were heading into. We pulled clear of theSenatorum Imperialis’ forest of towers and parapets and were soon poweringsteadilyupintothehighatmosphere.Ifeltthethrustersboomjustmetresbelowwhereweweresittinginourrestraintharnesses,andbegantocursemyrecklessdecision.IwasnotanaturalvoidfarerandalmostinstantlyIfeltnauseawellupwithinmystrapped-tightenvironmentsuit.‘Tryusingthereal-viewers,’Jeksuggested,knowingmyweakness.Itdidn’thelp.All I could see through theheavily fortified slatswasawildlyspinningdisc,markedbygreatstreaksoffire.Ididnote justhowdifferent thefaceofTerralookedtohowithaddonebefore,itsuniformpallofsludgygreynowwrackedwiththeflamesraginginitsupperatmosphere.Itried–foolishly–toglimpsesomethingoftheFortressoftheAstronomican,hopingagainsthopethat it would ignite again and banish the swaths of destruction that nowceaselesslycircledtheglobe.
Soon, though,even thosedetailsdisappearedasmyhomeworldshrankback,blurring from the lifter’s heavy progress into the void. The howl of theatmosphererippedaway,leavingonlytheinternalroarofourengines.Webegantobe assailed by challenge-bursts from the hundreds ofNaval installations onour route, allof themnowwatching theapproaches toLuna likepsy-hawks. Icould see approaching void-fighter wings, and guessed just how jumpy thosepilotswouldbe.‘Boostbroadcastsofourexemptedstatus,’ Ivoxed to thepilot. ‘Any trouble,route themdirect tomyaudexandI’llexplainpreciselyhowfast Icanhaveakill-teamlocatetheirfamilies.’TheRE-45wasabluntinstrument,butafastoneonceitgotgoing.Thedensenetwork of defence stations swampast us, turning slowly under the flickeringlightsofLuna’sdistortedreflectiveface.Spaceitselfseemedtobealive,litwithghostlystrandsofwitch-lightthatscamperedacrossthevoid.‘There it is,’ murmured Jek, peering into one of the vid-feeds linked to theforwardaugurbanks.IhadseenLunamanytimes,andhadalwaysbeensomewhatimpressedbyitsfadedgrandeur.UnlikeTerra itwasaquiet,darkrealm,dominatedby thevastdocksthatjuttedoutfromitsequator.Itwasacolderplace,andhadalwaysfeltsomehowpurertometoo,ifyouignoredthehugevolumeofcontrabandpassingthroughiteveryhour.Lookingat itnow,muchof itwas thesameas ithadalwaysbeen,saveforasectorhighupoverourprow.Thelightcamefromthere,winkinglikesunlightfroma lens.Theeffect looked lessviolent than ithadbeen, thoughitwasstillincrediblethatsomethingsopowerfulcouldhavebeengeneratedsoquickly.‘Takeusdownas closeasyoucan,’ I told thepilot, swallowing thebile thatcloggedmythroat.‘Immediatevisualrange,unlesswecomeunderfire.’BythenIcouldalreadyseeothervoidcraft loomingupahead– twelveNavalmonitorswiththeirgunsrangedontheterrainbelow,astrikecruiserinthefadedyellowoftheImperialFists,twolargercraftinsilver-greylivery,evenagrandgold-and-blackcruiserbearingtheeagle’s-headdeviceoftheAdeptusCustodes.Luna was not short of its own defences, but the response from Terra hadnonethelessbeensignificant.Wepoweredonthroughtheperimeter,ourstatusandcredentialsenoughtorunthe gauntlet of challenges from the bigger vessels. Luna’s eerie dark greylandscape filled the forwardviewers, swelling first intoagreatcurveof spiresandmanufactoria, then racing towards us in a new horizon of ancient grime-
streakedtowers.Wetoucheddowninacloudofkicked-updust.Fearful thatmynauseamightoverwhelmmecompletely, Ipulled therestraints frommychestandstaggereddowntheloweringrampfirst.Thepilothaddonewell,takingusclosetotheedgeofahugecratersetoutinthewastelandsofLuna’sshipgraveyards.Weweredownamongthecarcassesofancientvoidcraft,beachedlongagoandstillporedoverforscrap.Thehullsweretitanic, swelling hundreds of metres into the crystal-clear air, their blackenedsparsskeletalagainstascreenofclearstars.Abovethemall,farawayfromusonadarkhorizon,rosethecolossalplatesofthedocksthemselves,hugeblackbarsdrawnverticallyacrossthefirmament.Theairwasthickwithgrit, theproductofvenerableMechanicusterraformersburning away at the world’s core. Gravity had never been quite equalised toTerran-normalhere,sowhenwemovedwelurcheduneasily.Icouldalreadyhearthemuffledsoundsofmanybootsmarching,andthevox-grindcriesofordersissued,butnothingasyetoftheinfernoIhadfeared.Thesorcerouslightseemedtohavedisappeared,butinitsplaceIcouldperceivetheswayandflashoflumenbeams,allofthemoriginatingbeyondtheridgeaheadofus.Jekdrewalongsideme,andourguardsjoggedoutoneitherside,gunstrainedonthesummit.‘Whatdoyouexpecttofindhere?’sheasked.‘Somethingworththetrouble,’Imuttered,beginningthelongsloguptheridge.Thattrudgealonenearlyendedme.Theclimbwasmorethanahundredmetresinthinair,andbythetimeInearedthesummitIwaspantingandsweatingundermy suit. I felt ludicrous. There was no reason for me to be there. I was anofficial,notawarrior.PerhapsIhadbeengoingmad.Perhaps thefoetidairoftheThroneworldhadcrushedmysanityentirely,andnowImarchedtoalong-overduedeath.Then at last I reached the peak of the dusty slope. I hauled in great breaths,feelingdizzy,leaningmyhandsonmyknees,beforeIwasabletostandagain.Ilookedout.Jekstoodbesideme,andlookedout.Myguardsandmyofficials,all in their thick suits of protective armour, lookedout.Not oneof usmade asound. I was, for once, entirely lost for words. Perhaps there weren’t anyadequate tocapturewhatwewere seeing.Westayed like that for a long time,feelingonlytheheavybeatsofourheartsandhearingtheboomofthewindinourearpieces.
LetmedowhatIcantoconveythescene.IfearIwillbeinadequatetothetask,butIwilltry.Wewerestaringdownashallowincline,thecurvinginnerfaceofawidebowl.Itwashuge–perhaps twentykilometresacross–andIcouldbarelymakeoutthefarsideofitamidthedustanddriftingsmoke.Moreshipcadaversmarkedthe faroutlineof thegreatcrater, justasmassiveas theoneswehadmarchedpast,risinglikemegalithsoverthedepression.Thelandscapewasasmoulderingcharnel-zone,heapedwithbodiesandchokedwiththeruinsofwar-machines,allpart-hazedbythedriftofsmoke.Someoftheslainwerehumantroops,cladinthegreyoftheLunadefenceforces,butmostwerefarhugerandmoreornate–SpaceMarines,drawnfromadozenChapters.I saw cobalt and ebony, gold and crimson, all locked together in a vastchequerboardoflivery.Amidthedeadstoodtheliving,batteredandcrustedwithLuna’sdust,butstillmovingwiththatponderousfluiditythatalwaysmarkedtheAdeptusAstartes.Ihadneverseensomanygatheredtogether.Theremusthavebeenthousandsofthem,awarhostbeyondanyIhaddreamedof.MostwerearrayedinthecobaltofUltramar, thatfar-offkingdomIhadreadsomuchaboutbutnevertravelledto.Othersstrodeamongthemasequals–theImperialFistswhountil thatdayhadbeenstationedonTerra,andBlackTemplars,Novamarines,Mortifactors…Thelistwentonandon,testingtheknowledgeofheraldryIhadlearnedinmydistantyouth.Itwasimpossiblethattheyshouldbehere.Wehadchronicledandlistedeverylast defender on Terra for months, knowing that most of the Chapters werefightingfaroffinthedepthsofthevoid.Thewaysofthewarpwereblockedandburning–theycouldnotbehere.But theywere not the only ones. I saw bizarre creatures that I had no namefor – arcane creations of theMechanicus, some greater in size even than theSpaceMarineswhostalkedbesidethem.Isawlivingsaints,justlikethoseintheEcclesiarchy frescos, hovering amid haloes of snaking energy. The thin aircrackledwith recently discharged plasma, as taut and tense as stretched skin.Even as I watched, three Imperial Fists Thunderhawk gunships rumbledoverhead,farmoremassivethanI’dimaginedtheywere.Custodians,tallerthanallothers,couldbespiedamongthevasthost,surroundedbythehighestheapsofbrokencorpses.Theslainfaroutnumberedthosewhostillwalked,butthesewerenoordinarycorpses. Even looking at themmademy eyes burn –manywere embellished
withhighserpenthelms,andhadarmourof lapis lazuli andcopper, finer thanany luxury I hadwitnessed in thePalace itself.Among themwere scraps andslopsofunnaturalflesh,steamingasifcookedonthefrigidair.Iwasnoscholarof the arcane, but I could guesswhat those thingsmust have been, and thereweresomanyofthem–alegionofthecorrupt,lyingentwinedwiththecorpsesoftheirvictims.Inthecentreofthecraterwasamightygateshapedintoahigharch.Therewasnothinghumaninthatthing’sconstruction–itwasameretwistandaskeinofbone,glimmeringlikecoldflesh,andyethighenoughforaWarhoundTitantohavewalkedthrough.Icouldnotimaginethatithadbeenthereforverylong–even in suchadesolateplace itwouldhavebeendiscoveredand investigatedlongago–andsothistoomusthavebeensomeconstructionofsorcery,linkedtotheresidueofthedaemonicthatlitteredthecraterfloor.Itwasaplaceofterrorandamazement,ananomalybeyondanyIhadwitnessedinmylongcareer.Imighthavesimplystooddumbfoundedbeforeit,drinkinginthe spectacle,but in truth thesemarvels soon left little impressiononme.TheCustodians, inwhose presence I had been so cowed on Terra, did not inspiretheir previous awe. The thousands of Space Marines, our Imperium’s greatdefenders,gavemeonlyapassingsenseofmajesty.Thathadnothingtodowiththem.Ithadeverythingtodowiththepresenceattheirheart.I started to move again, stumbling down the far slope, moving like asleepwalker.IheardJekcallingout,tryingtoholdmeback,butIdidn’tlisten.Iwas hardly aware of anything aroundme, and only dimly noticed the blurredoutlinesofthegiantwarriorsastheylaboured.Theypaidmenoattention.Iwasjust one ofmany functionaries and technicians now descending on the site tostudyitandmakeitsecure.TheycouldhavenoconceptionofwhomIserved,andeveniftheydidIguessedtheywouldpayitlittleattention.I don’t knowhow long it tookme to reach the centre.Probably a long time,draggedoutbystumbling.Eventually, though,Isawthexenosgatesoaringupbeforeme,andIsawthestarsunderitsarchblurandtremble,andknewIwasclose.Hewasthere,waiting.Ihadnoideathenjusthowfarhehadcome,norwhatperilshehadmastered,buthewas there.Hewas surroundedbyhisgreat andaustere counsellors and champions, none of whom somuch as looked at me.They conferred among themselves, looking to theirweapons, everymovementthickwithfatigue.
I knewwhohewas. I recognised the pictures from the devotional tracts.Wehad been servedwith those images from childhood, told tomeditate on themincessantly,eventopraytothem,instructednevertolet themoutofourmind.Quadrillionshadseenthosetemplatesofheroismandreflectedontheglorythathadbeen,usingthemasexemplarsofthehumanspiritandhoping,perhapsevenheretically,thattheywouldreturnoneday.I never thought it would happen. I did not believe it possible. I thought themasseswere ignorant andweak, and that our salvation could only come fromthosepowerswestillretained,notthelegendsofahalf-rememberedpast.Aloneofallthoseassembledthere,henoticedmelimpingamidthegiants.HelookedpasttheCustodianswhostoodthere,theirspearsstreakedwithblood.HelookedpastthecaptainsoftheSpaceMarinesandthegrotesquelordsofMars,andfixedmewithcoldblueeyes.I could feel my heart racing out of control. The whole place was like anintoxicated dream, a phantasm sent to drain the last sanity from our torturedbodies, and yet I could not deny its reality. When he spoke, the voice wasaccented strangely, almostunintelligibly, thevoiceof another age.Despitemyattire,heknewinstantlywhoIwasfromthesigilsofofficeonmyenvironmentsuit,andwascarefultoaddressmewiththeutmostprecision.‘CancellariusSenatorumImperialis,’hesaid.Itwasonlythenthatanyoftheothersturnedtowardsme.Therewasashield-captainclosebyinburnishedgold,oneIshouldperhapshaverecognised,butbythenitwasachallengemerelytoremainconscious.Ifelltomyknees.‘The LordGuilliman,’ I said, using both the given name and the ceremonialone,unitedinthisonesoultenthousandyearsbefore.‘YouspeakfortheHighLords?’heasked.Inodded.Icouldhardlybeartolookintothatface–therewassomethingbothbeatificandhorrificaboutit,anabundanceofpowerthatwasalmostobscene.Hewasofanotherage.Hewasamyththathaddied.Hetookasinglesteptowardsme,extendingavastgauntletchasedingoldandcobaltinordertoliftmetomyfeet.‘Thenitisgoodyouarehere,chancellor,’RobouteGuillimansaid.‘Ihavebeenawayalongtime.Perhaps,ifyourofficesstillextendtosuchthings,youwouldbegoodenoughtoshowmetoyourmasters.’
VALERIAN
Theycame.TheGreyKnights,whomwehadalwayshaduneasyrelationswith,answeredour summons. Idonotknow if itwasmyrequest thatprompted theorder,or ifValorishadbeenpetitionedbyothers. Inanycase,wewerenot soproudthatwecouldnotaskforhelpwhenitwasneeded.Thereisaprofounddistinctiontobemadehere.Wecouldboth–CustodianandGreyKnight–slaydaemons.Wewerebothtoallintentsandpurposesimmunetotheir temptations,andwewerebotheffectiveagainst theirmanystrategems.TherearetwogreatrepositoriesofloreagainstthedaemonicintheSolSystem,ourownarchivesintheTowerofHegemonandthefargreaterlibrariumlodgedonTitanitself.Weare,asorders,steepedtoourverycoresinthefightagainsttheGreatEnemy.Perhaps,youmight say,Chaos is the reason forbothofourexistences.Andyetwearedifferent.RememberItoldyouthatwewereneverwarriors,notexclusively.Wearecertainlynotanarmy,andwewereintended,intheoriginalscheme, for service in an empire that never came to be. Our cousins in theChamberMilitantoftheOrdoMalleus,bycontrast,wereforgedexclusivelyforthis singular war against our most powerful and enduring foe. They have noother purpose. Just like the Space Marines from whose template they weredrawn,theyareanarmy,completeandself-sufficient.We always knew of their existence. There are records, held privately in thedepthsofourarchives,whichchronicletheircreation.Wewatched,tenthousandyearsago,asHeembarkedonHislastgambit.AstheGreatEnemydrewclosetoTerra,weobservedthedarkeningofSaturn’smoon,andknewthatonedayit
wouldreturn,itspurposefulfilled.Considerwhatthishistorymeans.Weknowthattheycameafterus,themorejunior creation, andyet theywere as closely associatedwithHimaswewere.WebothofuslooktoHimandHimaloneasourprogenitor,andsharethesamesense, cultivated over the wearing aeons, that we enact His designs when allothersfalter.TherearesomeamongmybrotherswhodonotseethesonsofTitanasmuchmore than specialisedSpaceMarines, tobe regardedwith suspicionaspartofthat schismatic breed that caused us so much anguish in the past. A SpaceMarinemayalwaysfail,theybelieve,givenenoughtimeandenoughreason,andthustheyareallpartofthesamepotentiallyaberrantstrain.Some think that. Others, and I myself have often speculated in such a vein,cultivateadifferentmisgiving.WeknowwellenoughthattheyweredesignedasHis last great weapon, fitted to an age that He foresaw near the end of Hisearthlyembodiment.Whatifitwerethey,notus,whomostfaithfullyembodiedHisfinal legacy?Youwillneverhearoneofussayasmuchout loud,but thatdoes notmean the suspicion does not exist. It skulks around the corridors ofHegemonlikeafoulodour,faintbuthardtoeradicate.Fromthespeculumcertusweknowwewerethefinestandthemostfaithful.Inthespeculumobscurusthereis,asalways,moredoubt.Such, then, is the cause of the uneasiness between us. In practice this rarelyprovedan issue, since theywerenotgenerallyonTerraandwewereneveronTitan.Now,ofcourse,thathadchanged.Theysentfewerwarriorsthanweaskedfor–lessthanhalfofoneoftheirbrotherhoods.ManyoftheGreyKnightswerestationedfarfromtheSolSystem,itistrue,butstilltheresponsefeltsomewhatpaltry.Theymusthaveknownwhat itwouldhavecostourCaptain-General tomaketherequest,anditwashardtothinkthattheslightwasnotanintentionalone.ItwasmanydaysbeforeIwas toencounteroneof thenewarrivalsmyself. IhadbeenoccupiedprosecutingthedefenceofmywallsectorinconjunctionwithUrbo’sforces.Despiteourefforts,theunnaturaltideofviolencehadonlygrownworse.Demagoguessurfaced,onceburiedfastintheheartoftheworld-city,nowraisingwholehostsofdisciples.Someweretrulycorrupted,seededmanyyearsagoandnowburstingintofruit,butothersweremerelydeludedanddesperate,theirmindsturnedbytheterrorsintheskyandtheirstomachsempty.Soonthewallswereattackednightly,andourtroopswerebusyemptyingtheirlasgunsatthecharginghordes.
It was sickening work, and even Urbo became deadened by it. My serviceswerecalledontoeradicatethemastersofthisdis order,andIfoundmyselfattheheartofwearyingfighting,slayingthosefreelywhoIhadonceprotectedfromadistance. Some of the corrupted had become dreadful by then – semi-humancreatureswith themarksof the traitoron their flesh.Thegreatestof themhadacceptedfoulgifts,makingthembothlethalandpersuasivetothemasses.Islewmenwithembryonicwingssproutingfromtheirspines,andwomenwithfangs,andhalf-human-half-beasts.In time it became clear that the zones south of the Lion’s Gate weredeterioratingrapidly.Asidefrompunitiveraids,welosteffectivecontrolofmostofthepopulatedregionsoutsidethewall,andtheoldcathedralsbecamewellsofdepravity. Ihunted freely in thoseplaces, asdidmybrothers,but soonUrbo’spatrolshadtobedoubled,thendoubledagain,andstilltheywereambushedanddestroyedbythegrowingmobsofthedamned.Ilookedintotheskiesandsawonlytheblood-curdlenow,askeinofcrimsonthat flecked the skies and made it lurid. We had neither sunlight nor propernightfall, just a constant glowofmadness that chased out sleep andmade theholyplacesseemlikethehauntsofghouls.Wecouldneitherfeednorprotecttheinnocent who remained in those vast regions of the city, and our inquisitorsstalkedamong the seethinghive-spires as if loston some long-forgottendeathworld.SuchwerethecircumstancesinwhichImetJusticarAlcuin.Itwouldhavebeenbetter, I am sure, had our paths crossed in other times.As itwas though, thecircumstances of our encounter were very far from ideal, taking place on thenightthatnonecanforget–onlythesecondtimeinhistorythattheOuterWallswere breached by the Enemy, an event which would later be called, by itssurvivors,theSackoftheLion’sGate.
IledanattackcompanydrawnfromthebestofUrbo’sremainingforces.Theywerebecominghardenedtowhattheysawbythen,andwerenowabletogivemeusefulsupportwhenweencounteredcreaturesoftheether.Twohundredofthemtookoffwithmefromthehighlandingstages,exitingthewallunderthewatchfulcoverofthedefencebatteriesbeforeheadingoutintothecitybeyond.Our targetwas themanufactorumzoneeastof thegrandprocessional,withinsightoftheLion’sGateitself.Onceaproudthoroughfarethreehundredmetreswide used to hosting military parades, it had become a haunted semi-ruin,overlookedbyeyelessrowsofscorchedterraces.Welaunchedrepeatedmissions
to keep it clear, mostly to provide a route for ground forces retreating to thewallsfrompositionsfurtherout.Duringthenominaldaylighthourswedrovethecorruptedhostsback into theshadows,butasnight felland the flamesdancedmoredarkly,theyalwaysslunkback.Soherewewereagain,roaringoutintotheeternalcity,clearingthefilthfromsightofthewalls.Itfeltliketryingtoscoopthetideaway,handfulbyhandful.ItookaTaliongunshipinthelead,andthebulkofUrbo’ssoldiersfollowedintheirValkyries.Oncebeyondthewallswedroppeddownlow,skirtingnomorethanfiftymetresoverthedesertedtransitcanyons.Vasthivewallsloomeduponeithersideofus,manystillsullenlyburning,mostasdarkaspitch.Billionsstilldwelledinsidethosesarcophagi,thoughIdidnotliketothinkonhowmanystillretained their sanity. Ragged banners hung from burned-out windows, allinscribedwith signs of ruin. It didn’tmatter howmanywe tore down;withinhours,hundredsmorewouldreappear.‘Target approaches, colonel,’ I voxed, watching the massive gates of an oldMunitorumworksemergeoutofthesmoggyhaze.‘Prepfordisembark,’hepassedontohissergeants,andtheValkyriesdroppedevenlower.UrboandIhadformedsomethingofaneffectivepartnership.Oncehisaweofmehaddissipatedalittle,IdiscoveredIcouldrelyonhimtofollowacommand.Oncehe’dwitnessedmeslaughterintheEmperor’sname,hediscoveredthatIcouldbeakillerafterhisownheart.Itissurprising,Ifind,whatconnectionscanbemadeinadversity.Thegatestothefacilitywerebroken,andoneithersideofthemthickbulwarkssoaredintotheflickeringair.Theentireplacewasalabyrinthofsmelters,forgesand assembly lines, built aeons agowhenTerra had presumed tomanufacturethingsforitself,afterwardsusedtorecycledefunctmilitaryequipmenttoohigh-valuetodestroyandtoolow-valuetoexportoff-world.Our transports growled under the low lintel, plunging us into a penumbralworldofmuffledechoes.Iwasfirstout,crunchingdownontoawetfloorstrewnwith swarf. The rest of Urbo’s men piled out from hovering Valkyries, thensprinted across the resounding floor of the chamber, their lasgun-mountedlumensflashinginthedark.The place was like some colossal mausoleum, with a high, empty roof thatdisappeared into gloom.They had servicedMilitarum super-heavies in here, Ihad been informed, and there were still chain-lifters hanging amid the blownshellsofdormantmachine-clusters.Itstankofsouroilandrottingmetal.
I could already hear our enemies. They no longermade any attempt to hidetheir presence in those places, but conducted their depravities as if theyweresafelyensconcedonsomeworldfarfromourscrutiny.Thefacttheydareditatalldisgustedme–ablasphemyIcouldnolongershowindulgenceto.So I ranhard, delvingdeeper into the echoingdepths.Empty cage-lifts hunglikelanternsinthedark,rustingquietlyover abyssalshafts.FromaheadIcouldsmell the chemical stench of burning and hear the roar of the crowds. I sawcloaked figures scuttle into the gloom, but ignored them – the real prey wasahead, congregating, organising,making ready to surge out against us.Urbo’stroops kept up as best they could, but they soon fell behind. I pulled ahead,driven by my zeal to end this, running faster and deeper into those stinkingfoundations.Ibrokeintowhathadoncebeenanassemblyhall.Theconveyerbeltswerestillin place, somewith the carcasses of battle tanks lurking likemonuments.Thespacewas filled nowwith swayingmasses, all clad in the ragged remains oftheirwork-shifts.Itwasashrinetocorruption,thatplace–humanbodieshungfromchains locked into thedistant ceiling, twisting amid foetid air, their eyesgougedoutand theirhandsskinless.Hugeeight-pointedstarshadbeengravenintothewallswiththefacility’sownmachinetools,thendaubedwiththeresidueofslaughter.OntopofthesmellofenginelubricantsIcouldnowdetecthumanaromas–blood,sweat,desperation.The mob of faces was turned away from me and angled up towards aMechanicuscommandpulpit–ahoveringmassofintricatemetalwork,studdedwith cables and clattering with extended mechadendrites. That thing had thecapacity for perhaps twenty tech-priests, butwasnowcrawlingwith ten timesthat number of occupants. They were scratching and clawing at one another,swarming like rats over it, shinningup the cables and clambering towards thesummit.AtopthatpulpitwasasinglepriestinrippedEcclesiarchyrobes,thoughtheoldsigils of theMinistorum had been excised and replaced by crude octeds. Thepriestheldaloftastill-shiveringheartintwoblood-slickedhands,offeringituplikeabenediction.BodiesofImperialtroopsfromahundreddifferentregimentslaystrewnover theconveyerapproaches,allwith theirchests rippedopenandtheir ribs glistening whitely. Many more, still living, had been corralled intomakeshiftcageshewnfromtherustinghullsofthetanks,readytobedraggedforsacrificebythehordeswhobayedaroundthem.Allpretenceatsanityhadgone.The thousandsofsoulswho jeeredandcried
outlookedbarelyhumananymore.Theirskinwaswhite,theireyesringedwithblack, their tonguesavirulent red.Bleedingtattooshadbeencarvedonto theirfaceswith blunt knives, andmetal splinters rammed through skin-folds. Theywereno longerafraidofme,no longerafraidofanything, theirsystemsforce-fedhallucinogensandstimulantsbythedemagogueswhohaddraggedthemintothisdebauchery.Ididnothesitate.Ichargedintotheirmidst.Itorethroughthem,slayingrapidlyand carving a path towards the pulpit. Behindme I heard the first of Urbo’stroopsarrive,and the flashof las-fire sooncompetedwith the leapingbrazier-flames to banish the shadows. Gnosis whirled in a reaper-pattern, carvingthroughthediseasedflesh.Theyshriekedandtheycursed,throwingthemselvestowardsme.Dozens pressed in, then hundreds, clawing out, their eyes lockedwidewithdementedfury.Not one of them even touched my armour. I surrounded myself with ahemisphereoftatteredflesh,anorbitofthrownbloodthatspunandsplattered.Imovedeverfaster,mypacebarelyslowedbythemethodicalkilling.Iimmersedmyselfinmycombat-stateofpureconcentration.Ididn’tseethosewretchesasindividualtargetsatall, justonevast,many-headedbeaststandingbetweenmeandmyultimategoal.Theydiedsoquickly,depressinglyquickly, likedryfuelhurledintothefurnace.Heavyweaponscrackedout,tellingmethatUrbo’sranged-attacksquadswereinplace.Assaultteamsheadedforthecages,aimingtoreleaseasmanyoftheircomrades as they could, while the bulk of the regular troops engaged theacolytes.Iwasclose to thepulpitby then,andcouldfeel theair thicken, justas ithaddone in the cathedral of the relic. The screams ramped up, the flames leapthigher.ThepriestsacrificedanotherstrugglingvictimonhisfalsealtarevenasIdrewintobolterrange,oblivioustoeverythingsavetheritehewasorchestrating.BythenIcouldseejusthowmanyhadbeenslain–therewerepilesofskulls,blood-streakedandflesh-pocked,stackedupbeyondthepulpitlikeaconqueror’shoard.I hurled Gnosis around in a heavy crossways swipe, clearing space to leap.EvenasIdidso,theairaheadofmecrackedopen,shrivenbyasuddenblastoffrost-hardenergy,flooringthosewhostillhowledandcapered,andcausingthepulpit itself to rockwildly. Five clear shafts of eye-burning lightning speareddown from the void above us, crystallising into the outlines of silver-greywarriorsbearingforcehalberdsandcracklingwarhammers.Theyslammedinto
the heart of the enemy, scattering them with the force of their arrival beforeinstantlyburstingintochoreographedkillingmovement.Iadapted,assessinghowthenewarrivalsinterlockedwithmyassault,gaugingspeedsandimpacts.Soonwewerefightingtogether,cuttingourwayhigherandhurling the crushed andbrokenbodies into the conveyers.We closed the gap,vaultingup to the pulpit’s highplatform, seizing its crustaceous exhaust ventsandhaulingourselvesontoit.Mybladewasthequickest.Ireachedthehighplatformintimetoseethepriesttear the living heart from a final victim. I cast down the stimm-bulkedbodyguardswho lumbered to engageme and angledGnosis to discharge.Thehuman sacrifice was thrown aside, bouncing awkwardly down the slope ofskulls.The priest grinned atme.He held the heart aloft and crushed it between hisfingers,dousinghisbaldheadinalumpytorrentofliquidgore.‘Yousee,though,we’vedoneenough,’hetoldme.Mybolt-shellhithiminthechest,blowinghimfromtheplatform.Thechargeignitedwhilehewasinmid-air,rendinghimopenandsendinghisseveredlimbsspinningintothecrowds.The Grey Knights joined me. Their steel-grey armour still sizzled from theextremes of teleportation, and the homer-beacons on their shoulders throbbedwithresidualpower.Fourofthemboremightybladesthatcrackledwithneon-bluedisruptor charge,while their leader carried aheavywarhammer inscribedwithrunesofpurity.‘Wecometoolate,’saidtheirleader.Iturnedonhim.Thehallwasnowinconfusion,themobsrunningfromUrbo’sadvance,throwingthemselvesintothelas-volleyslikestartledcattle.‘Whatdoyoumean?’Iasked.Wewouldkillthemallnow–bydawn,thisplacewouldbepurgedofitscorruption.‘Thisisendedhere.’Hishelmwascakedinadirtybrownfilmofblood,allexceptthelenses,whichglowedwithbluefire.Icouldsensethepsychicessenceradiatingfromhiscore.Itwaslikeheat,leakingfromhiseverygesture.HewasperhapsaheadshorterthanIwas,a little lessheavilybuilt.Hisarmourwasscouredrawwhereminewasornate,andhismovementswereafractionslower,thougheverypartofhimwassuffusedwiththearcanepotencyofthewarp.‘Not yet,’ he said, keeping the shimmering psy-field activated over his greathammerhead.‘Attend,Custodian–nowthestormbreaks.’Even before he had finished speaking, the walls began to shake. The heavy
chainsswung,firstgently,thenevermoreviolently.Withasquealandawhine,theconveyersbegantomove,theirskinsdrumming.Arumblebrokeoutbelowus, a grind of earth against earth, almost too low to be heard, but then thereverberationsthrummedintoourbones.Urbo’smenkeptfighting.Themobkeptcomingatthem.Themortalsseemedinsensibletothis,andyetIcouldfeelit–thebuildup,theswellandthebulgeofsomethinguncurlingandextendingandthrustingintoreality.Thiswassomethingcumulative.Thiswassomethingexponential.‘Yousensedthis,’Isaid,soundingmoreaccusatorythanIhadintended.‘Wemustleave,’wasalltheGreyKnightsaid.The walls were cracking. The foundations were shifting. I looked out at theassemblyhall,andsawitsfloorbegintoshudder,vibratinglikekickedsand.‘Withdraw,’IorderedUrbooverthevox.‘Getoutnow.Gettoyourships.’His forces instantly complied, disengaging, pulling back the way they hadcome. I looked up. There were stairs leading up the far wall, hugging theadamantiumpanelsandrunningsheertothedistantroof.TheGreyKnightsawwhatIproposed,andnodded.‘Thatisacceptable,’hesaid.Then we were moving again, leaping from the pulpit and running across aheavy landscape of breaking metal. I felt the decks shatter under my tread.Wherever my boots landed, a red glow was revealed, as if we trod acrossmagma-skin. I could unleashmy full power now, and sprinted at full tilt.TheSpaceMarineskeptpace,andthesixofussweptacrossthedisintegratinghall.Aswewent,hugechunksofironfellaroundus,smashingapartanddrivingdeepintothevaultsbelow.Oneofthetankhuskswasstruckandtiltedstraightoverintowideningchasmsbeneath.I reached the stairway and ascended, leaping four steps at a time. We roseswiftly, even as the walls buckled. Blood-red light flooded the chamber now,shafts of it angling from every rent in the toppling edifice around us. I had avisionof theentire structurecollapsingaswe raced through it, the tonnesandtonnesaboveussloughingintoalandslipofruin.I leapt tooneside,mymovementsgovernedby intuition,narrowlyevadingacolumnthatcrashedintodust.Weduckedandswayedthroughthedisintegratinggalleries, showered with clouds of bouncing rubble. The noise becameincredible, a roar like the forgottenoceans. I had a final glimpseof thevaultsovertheassemblychamber–implodingentirely,foldinginonthehallsbelow–beforewereachedtheportal totheoutside.Iracedthroughit,followedbythe
others,evenasthedeckingbeneathusfellawayandplungedintothegatheringvortexofcollapse.Weemergedontoahigh,narrowbridgeintothespirelevelsandkeptrunning.Behindus, the immenseMunitorum facility brokeopenwith blazing shafts ofred light, thrustout fromitsslumpingprofileofdarkness.Slowly,agonisingly,likeamountainbeingconsumedfromwithin, thegreatbuttresses folded inonthemselvesandthetowerscrumpled.Iheardexplosionsfromalongwaydown,booms of tortured stone giving into tectonic pressures, and plumes of smokerearedhighintothesky.Thebridgebegantosway,itsmooringspulledfromtheirarmatures.Aheadofus was another portal set into the face of a rearing hive-spire with a forkedcrown.Wemadeforthat,swervingandduckingevenasmoltenclumpsofmetalraineddownaroundus. Ihadablurred impressionofeverything– the towers,the domes, the great defence stations – falling apart, as if all creation weresplitting intopiecesaroundus. I fixedon thegoal–awideplatformofheavyironandadamantiumlodgedhighuponthewestwardfaceoftheforkedspire–and shut all else out of my mind. As the bridge finally broke free of itsfastenings, we threw ourselves into the air, sailing through fire-fleckedwindsbeforecrunchinghardtothesoliddeckahead.Behindus, thebridge twistedaway likeaheadless snake. Its spinebroken, itseesawedasgravitysuckeditdownintothehungrymawofcataclysm.Anothertoweringveilofdust roseupon the far sideof thecanyon, lit fromwithinbyfreshdetonations.Theoverlappingsonicroarbecameblistering,overwhelmingevenmyauralreceptorsandmakingmyvisionshake.Istaredoutwest,overtowheretheprocessionalavenueledtowardstheLion’sGate. As steeled as I was, as conditioned as I was, I could hardly credit theevidenceofmysenses.Foraterriblemoment,caughtinthatseismicupheaval,Ilostanysenseoflocation,ofsecuregrounding.Theprimordialcentrehadbeencutloose.The Terra I knew was gone. Gouts of hissing flame burst up from thetransitwaysand thedeepcanyons, licking thesidesof the totteringspires.Theblazes were impossibly huge, merged conflagrations that thundered into theairlessheights.Icouldjustmakeoutthewallonthefarsideoftheheat-shakennight,blurryfromtheboilingcloudsofburningash.Icouldseethepinnaclesofthe basilicas thrusting skywards like ebony spears. The skies themselves hadignited, aching with fell illumination and riven by the bellowing of inhumanvoices. Isawdozensofgreatedifices,all thousandsofyearsold,dissolve into
blackeneddust,brokenapartby theritualsenactedat theirhearts.Anabsoluteandunearthly psychic hatred, raw and condensed into dreadful purity, floodedacrosstheancientbattlementsandtowerslikethegalesofacrashingmaelstrom.TheGreyKnights stoodbesideme, their armour turneddeep crimsonby theunholylight.TheirJusticarlookedimpassivelyintothenightsky.‘ShardsofKharneth,’heintoned,grimly.‘Sotheytrulydareit.’WecouldseeacrosstotheoldLion’sGatevoidportreaches–hugeexpansesofrockcrete landing stages and command towers, interwoven with deep chasmswheretheship-liftswaited.Eveninnormaltimesitwasadesolateplace,markedforreverencebytheEcclesiarchyandleftbarefor thewindstoscrapeagainst,butnowitwasadiabolicvisionoftorment.Thegreatadamantiumplateswereheaving.Columns of liquid incandescence spat from the ruptures, jetting highintotheweepingskiesabove.‘Thewall,’Isaid,preparingtoracedownfromthespire’sflank.BeforeIcouldmove,however,animmenseboomrangout,strikingthespire-facesandshatteringtheirarmourglassviewportals.Theglitteringrainofshardstumbledintocataracts,refractingthecrimsonauraandsplayingitintoriversofrubies.Outacrossthatimmensevista,Isawthecolumnsofflamesolidify.Everypointofluridlightbegantointensify,thousandsofthem,tensofthousands,untilthegreat plain resembled a starfield of its own, a bloody mirror to the one thatcycledabovethecloudbarrier.They howled as they were born. I could only watch as they ripped intoinstantiation, first tens, then hundreds, then more and more until the entirelandscapewas boilingwith daemon embryos. The nightmare infants stretchedout,bathedinbirth-flames, theirbodiesextendingupwardsandoutwards, theirjawsdistended innatal agony, their backs spawning spine-ridged spikes.Theyopenedblack-on-blackeyes,theylashedwithprehensiletongues,theystaggeredoutofflamingcocoons,croakingfromvocalcordsthatwerealreadystiffeningandtakingupbladesthateruptedfromfirmingscab-flesh.Theywereinranks.Itwasaninfernalregiment,eachoneacohortpulledfromthemirrorrealm,burgeoningandunfoldinguntilanentirewarhoststoodbeforeus.SoonIcouldnolongercountthem–aNeverbornarmy,fillingtheentirevoidportfromendtoend,spillingbeyonditsboundsandintothechasmsandtowersbeyond,alllightning-crowned,allblood-slick,allscreamingblasphemiesatthespiresofHolyTerra.Then greater horrors burst free of the world’s shackles among them –
slobbering behemothswith a hundred eyes, iron-collared hounds that slaveredand yanked at their thick chains, quasi-mechanical juggernauts with burningeyesandhunchedsmokestacks;moreandmore,thrustingupfromthetormentedearth,exhumedamidcataclysmsoffreshetherplasm.And finally, at the very apex, unfurled the greatest of all. They tore intoexistence with splintered bellows that annihilated the rockcrete around them,risingupintoavatarsofswirlingdetritus,higherandhigher,bloatingandfirmingintocolossiofburnishedmuscleandflame-blackenedbrass.Immensebatwingsfusedandpushedoutandstretchedandenfleshed tobeat the flame-tornskies,tatteredandstuddedwithchainsandswingingskull-bundles.Hugeheadslifteduphigh,eachcrownedwithheavythicketsoftwistedhornsanddistendedwithtusk-crammed,dripping jawlines.Mightyclovenhoovesstamped,breaking theground open into hissing blood-channels. Two-handed axes swung into being,clotting from thick smoke before extending into twin-faced plates of warp-cursedsteel,etchedwithrunesofendingandglintingwiththereflectedstarsofanother plane. Barbedwhips rippled through the flames, vast and curling andlashingwithinfernalacumenoftheirown.Bloodthirsters.Eightof them.Forged in the imageofmankind’soldest fears,theembodimentsofbattle-rageandtheavatarsofblood-lust, theseweremyth-born titans of ruin.When they strode out, the horizon shuddered.When theirpinions snapped, the flames thundered back greater. Wreathed in lightning,garlanded in black-edged flame, cloaked in the storm’s surge, themightiest ofthe mighty vassals of the Blood God raised their vast jowls skywards, androared.The clouds above us erupted, sending hammering channels of crimson rainslamming earthwards. The Neverborn army screamed, lashing out with theirhookedblades,achorusofferalecstasyunleashedonaworldtheyhadcovetedsincethedawnofhistory.Foramomentitseemedasiftheheavensthemselveshadformedtheimageofagianthornedface,asvastasthePalaceitself,leeringinincipienttriumph,beforethevisionwasobliteratedbythedrivingblood-rain.Thewallstoodbeyondthem,giganticandbattle-scarred,toweringhigherthananyhive-spireandsurmountedby theheaviestconcentrationofdefences inalltheImperium.Forthefirsttimeever,Ilookedatitandsawintruthhowfragileitwas. It was a creation of men set against the infinite malice of gods. Theinstantiated host of the Neverborn, the immortal intelligences of the eternalether, surged towards it now, thirsting to break apart the parapets they hadfounderedonbefore.
BeforeIknewit, Iwasrunningagain.Iwastearingdownnewstairwellsandleapingfromplatforms,rampinguptofullspeed.Mybladewassnarling,settinggolden flames dancing amid the bloody dark. Around me came the GreyKnights,silverghostsinthegloom,theirownweaponsglitteringsapphire.I kneweveryoneofmybrotherswouldbedoing the same.All thoseon thewallandallthoseintheeternalcitywouldberacingtofacethis,tobringtheirblades tobear, tocut into thewarp-fleshthatnowroseuptoextinguishallwehadbeenborntopreserve.AndasIran,onlyonethoughtpossessedme,animatedme,drovemeonwardsintotheopeningmawoflivingperdition.Wecannotfailagain.
ALEYA
TheBlackShipEnduringAbundanceburnedthroughthevoid,havingtakenitsintendedcargoonboard.TheCadamara camealong in itswake, flankedbyamini-fleet of similar warp-capable ships, a battered collection of largelyramshacklehullsthatlabouredtoremaininthelargervessel’swake.Ididn’trealisejusthowclosewe’dcome.I’dbeensoconsumedwithsurvivalthatI’dneverappreciatedhowremarkableourprogresshadbeen–bythetimewewere interceptedwewerewithin awarp stageof theSolSystem. I had tohand it to Slovo. Despite his carping and moaning and physical frailty, he’dsteeredussuperlatively,althoughwhetherhe’dhavebeenabletonegotiatethatlasttreacherouslegwashardtoknow.Our proximity to the goal, though, was what had saved us. The EnduringAbundance had been on its home world arc, brought back to the centre justaheadofthefullimpactofwhatNavradaran,inanechoofSlovo’swords,wascallingtheGreatRift,thecatas trophethathadscissoredthegalaxyinhalf.TheBlackShiphadnotbeenoriginallyscheduled to return to theThroneworld foranother threeyears, butNavradaranhadboarded it andgiven the captainneworders–itsmostpreciouscargowasnolongertheshackledpsykersthatragedandsobbedinitsholds,butthewardenswhoguardedthem.Buthehadnotbeenmerelycontentwith that,andhadsteered theshiponanerratic course back to Terra, taking in every known or rumoured convent ofwitch-huntersinthesubsectorbeforesettingthestraightcoursehome.TheshiphadnevermadeitasfarasArraissa,butothershadtoldthemofourexistence,andsotheirastropathshadput theirmindsout into theether,searchingfor the
last scraps to recover before they would be buffeted back to their origin.Somehowtheylatchedontous,andtookthechancetoreelusin.Ifwe’doutrunthem and tried to go it alone, I suspect we’d be dead by now, our skeletonschewedonbygnawers.I’d never seen such a ship before. Itwas enormous,more than twenty timesbigger than the Cadamara, and obviously ancient. I could hardly read theArchaicGothic inscriptions over themany cell doors, somysteriouswere thecadencesandvocabulary.Theentirevesselwasshrouded, thelumenskept lowand the corridors blanketed in darkness. The term ‘Black Ship’ was notfigurative–everypartofitwasformedofebonmetal,faintlyreflective,adornedandstuddedwithward-patternsagainstcorruption.Vastether-sinkstookupthebulkof the lowerhull, thrummingwith constant Geller processes todischargeandejectthebuild-upofpsychicenergyonboard.Thehugecrew–threetimeswhatwouldhavebeenpresentonasimilarNavybattleship,Iguessed–prowledthecorridors incessantly.Mostwerehuman-normal,bearing theunmistakeablemarkofpsycho-conditioningandwieldingstrangeweapons Ididn’t recognise.Some, though, were blanks. And some of those, like me, were anathemapsykana.My first thoughtwas that perhaps I knew some of them. Perhaps therewereotherrefugeesfromHestia’sconvent.Itdidnottakelongtodisabusemeofthathope. These were a mongrel mixture of refugees from the League of BlackShips,orInquisitorialwarbands,orsuchscatteredconventsasI’dbeenapartof.Therewereforty-fiveofusintotal,drawnfromtwelvedifferentunits,eachwithitsownarmourandinsigniasandbitterhistories.OnceI’dhadachancetoadjust tomynewreality,Navradaranhadexplainedthe situation. He had been sent out into the void, as had others of his order,following orders fromhisCaptain-General. The ether had been growingmoreturbulentfordecades,andportentsofdisasterhadbeengrowinginintensity.TheSisters of Silence, having been allowed to drift into memory, were beingcollectedtogetheragain.Thefinalactionshadbeentakenjustintime–anylater,andtheRiftwouldhavemadesuchamusterimpossible.Evenso,hesuspectedmanyhundredsofconventsandBlackShipsremainedstrandedonthefarside,cutofffromthelightoftheAstronomicanandunabletoforcepassagehome.As for us,wewere little better off.TheEnduringAbundance had a cadre oftwenty Navigators, almost all of them stronger and healthier than Slovo. Theentireshipwaswardedandbuttressedagainstdaemonicattack,withacrewofthousands all trained from birth to detect the slightest manifestation of the
empyrean,andsothey’dmadebetterheadwaythanus.Evenso,Navradarantoldme, they could not remain in the void for long. Each jumpwas escalating indanger, and they’d lost three of theirNavigators tomadness on the lastmajorhaul.Heprofessedsurprise thatwe’d lastedas longaswehad,andevenmoresurprisethatwe’dmanagedtoplotarouteintheabsenceoftheAstronomican’sguide.Ididn’ttellhimaboutthemap,whichremainedunderguardontheCadamara.IntruthIdoubtedwhetherithadbeenthethingthathadsavedusatall–Slovoclaimedthatithadbeenapoorcompass,andthatwehadmadeourwaylargelythroughluckandinstinct–butstillIdidn’twishtohaveitspresencedisclosed.ItwastheonethingIhadtakenfromtheruinsofmypastlife,andIfeltsureitsexistencemeantsomethingsignificant,butIwouldonlysharethatwithsomeoneIcouldtrust.Youmight think thatwas foolish,given thesituation,andperhaps itwas,butyoumustrememberthis:Iwasfurious.Myangerwiththeuniverse,whichhadalways been there, always bubbling under, had burst out now. I saw in theEnduring Abundance just what could have been, had the Imperium notinexplicably lost faith in us. I saw the huge resources, once placed under ourdirect control, that the old Sisters of Silence had been trusted to administer. Ilooked at this Custodian’s fabulously decorated battleplate, and saw theastonishingequipmentheused,andlookedatmychippedarmourandthoughtofmyrustingflamer.Whenever we conversed, always in Thoughtmark, I felt that resentmentcloudingeverything.Youwerenotfighting,Iwantedtotellhim.Wewerehere,allthetime,forgottenandlefttofendforourselves.Youremainedbehindthewalls,treatedlikegods.AndnowyoupresumetogatherustoTerra,beneficentandindulgent,asifwehadbeenwilfulchildrenripeforscolding.Ididn’texpressthattohim,notinsomanysigns,buthemusthavedetectedmylatentfury,forhewasn’tstupid.Theship’sarmourywashuge,andIwasfittedoutwith better armour and betterweaponry. It didn’twipe away the sense ofinjustice,butitdidmakemefeelmorelethal.Idonnedmyselfingoldenarmourwitharichpurplecloak,justasmypredecessorshadworn,andreplacedmyoldhelmwithaportcullisgrilleofpureauramite.Iputmyflamerasideandtookupa greatblade. It was an insane weapon, almost as tall as I was, but theextravaganceappealedtome.All of us aboard spent long hours in training. There were other Custodians
alongsideNavradaran,andtheyworkedobsessivelyinthepracticecages.Ihadto admit theywere impressive towatch. Theymoved incredibly fast for theirsize, and I guessed they would have taken out that Black Legionnaire onArraissafarmoreefficientlythanIhad.Istudiedthemforalongtime,tryingnottobe tooenvious, andoften failing. I came tohate theirquiet, steady resolve.They never complained, they never got angry. Everything with them waspolished and reverent, like diplomats somehow siphoned into the suits ofwarriors.ImighthavethoughttheywereautomatahadInotseenthewaytheymovedablade.Throne, theywereevenwellspoken,and they treatedmewithsuchrelentlesspolitenessandconsiderationthatIwantedtoscream.That was the core problem – I needed an excuse to loathe them, and theywouldn’tgivemeone.So Ididwhat theydid, tookupmyblade, andworkedmyselfintoalatherofexhaustion.IabsorbedeverythingIcouldfromthemall–the Custodians, my fellow Sisters, even the Black Ship’s senior garrisoncommand – drinking in what my isolation had prevented me from learningacrossallthoseyears.Idon’tknowhow long that journey lasted. It felt likeweeks,but time in thewarppassedas strangelyaseverandso thatmightbewrong.Navradaranwassurethewholetimethatwewereheadedbackforwar.Hetoldmethat,overandover.‘Terrawas already on a knife-edgewhen I left,’ he said tome. ‘Therewereportents,buttheyledusastray.TheCouncilwasdivided,andValoriscouldseemoreclearlythananyonethatwewereheadingforcrisis.Hencethisharvest.’Hesmiled apologetically. ‘My apologies – that sounds disrespectful, but you takemymeaning.’Icouldhavepunchedhisbig,elegantface.Nowwewereneeded.Nowwewerewanted. I suppose that waswhat Lokk had picked up on, only too late to beuseful. The Enemy had known more than we had, it seemed – one way oranother someone would have come for us, and only we ourselves had beenignorantofwherethetideswereheaded.There’salimittohowmuchresentmentyoucanindulgein,however.Iwasaservantof theEmperor after all, and for allNavradaran’s infuriatingmanner Ihadnodoubthewasrightaboutthetimeofcrisis.ThegalaxyhadsplitintwoandtheAstronomicanhadgoneout.HalfofmeexpectedtoreachTerratofinditalreadylainwaste,notthatIwouldhaveeverdisclosedthatthoughttomymorepiouscompanions.Soonthefinalapproaches,whentheEnduringAbundancecrashedthroughthe
ragingwarplikeacetaceanwallowingincrudeoil,itsenginessplutteringanditsancient hull creaking, therewere no illusions.We suited up, we prepared ourblades,wepreppedthelanders.Weweretravellingintotheinferno,thatweknew.Butnothingcouldhavepreparedme,notreally.Imightnothavehadasoul,butIhadanintellectandIhademotions,andneitherofthemhelpedwithwhatwefoundoncewebroketheveil.
The Enduring Abundance burned inwards from the Mandeville point at fullspeed,kicking inplasmadrives themoment thewarpbubblerippedopen.Therestofthefleetcamethroughwithit,clusteredtogethertomakethebestuseoftheBlackShip’ssuperiornavigationandpower.I never saw any of this. I was already in my lander – a heavy slab ofadamantium slung under a big launch-claw in the outer hull. Iwas therewithfourofmysisters.Oneof them,Reva,hadcomefromaconvent likeme,onebasedontheagriworldofErtecia,andsharedmuchofmyslow-burnfuryatthewaywehadbeentreated.Theother threewerecrewtakenfromtheLeagueofBlackShips,andtheyprofessedthemselvesunable tounderstandour lingeringdisgruntlement. They were strange, grim-faced women, and I doubted they’dhavebeenlikeableeveniftheyhadpossessedsouls.Ifoundoutlaterthatouringresshadalmostendedthere,shottopiecesonthebroadside of the Imperial cruiser In His Manifest Constancy. The EnduringAbundance,itseemed,hadnointentionofslowingdownforchallenge-hails,anditwasonlyNavradaran’spresenceoverafrostyvid-linkthatpreventedusbeingannihilatedbeforewe’devenseteyesontheThroneworld.The entire system, it became apparent, was already in turmoil. The Navalcordonwasvast,butsomethinghadgottothecrews.Shipshadcollided,defencestations had found themselves overrun by spontaneous outbreaks of madness,energy coils had overloaded andwiped outwhole gun-platforms.Most of thetruly heavy battle cruisers had already been recalled to Terran orbit, and so averitable cavalcade of heavy voidcraft was churning its way towards system-centre,streamingbacktothesourcetoassistintheincursionthathadbypassedallofthemandstruckattheThroneworlddirect.Icouldn’tknowanyofthis,ofcourse,closetedasIwasinthenarrow,crampedcrewbayofthelander.AllIcouldsensewasthejaw-breakrattleofthepressed-metaldeckastheouterdoorsoftheBlackShipbegantocantileveropen.Undernormal circumstances it would have taken us days to negotiate the tortuous
approachestoTerra’sorbitalspace.Nowweweremakingtheentirejourneyinamatterofhours,propelledbygargantuanenginesrunningatfulltilt.Itwaslikearriving at some vast citadel and finding no one was home, the battlementsmannedbyghostsandmadmen.As the huge roar of the plasma drives began to wind down, we knewwe’darrived. I felt the lander swing away, carried out and down by the enormousextending arms. I could imagine how it looked from the outside – a sliver ofmetal suddenly thrust from the embrace of the Enduring Abundance’s slickblackouterarmour,tinyagainstitsbulboushide.Rune-screeds appeared in front ofme, hanging in the air frommy armour’slithcast bead. I still hadn’t got used to these tricks, these little machine-spiritdevicesthatmademycurrentequipmentsomuchbetterthanthedregsI’dmadedowithforsolong.Ionlyneededtostudyafewlines.Imperial Palace under active assault. Concentration of forces at Lion’sGatemajor intersection. Coordinates are being sent to your landers. Defenceresponseunderway.Makeplanetfall and liaisewith assets already in theatre.TheEmperorguideyourblades.Itwasallhappeningsofast.Wehadourassignedsquads,ourlinesofcommanddevelopedover theprecedingdays.Mostof thoseonboardhadbeenin transitforlongerthanIhad,andsothethrustintoactionhadnotcomesosuddenly,butevensoIfelthardlyprepared.IlookedoveratReva.Ready?Isigned.Always.You?Ofcoursenot.Shesmiled,andIlikedwhatIsaw.Icouldn’tseehermouth,justhereyes,buttheyglitteredwithgenuinemirth.Something heavy slammed out of place belowus, and the lander trembled. Ihadasuddenimpressionofushanginglikealeafinautumn,shakinginthecoldwindbeforebeingtornfromthebough.Thentheboltspulledback,thelander’sthrustersboomedintolife,andwewerethrownintoourdizzyingdescent.Islammedbackagainstmyrestraints,asdidmycompanions.Weshookandwejuddered,envelopedinthenuminousroarofthoseincrediblypowerfulthrusters.Soonagreaterroarovertookeventhose,andtheholdtemperaturebegantorise.I switched toa tacticalexternal feed,andavid-linkofourprogress flickered
into jerky life across one of the roof-mounted lenses. The forward view wasburning.ForamomentIthoughtsomethinghadsetusonfire,butthenrealisedIwaslookingattheentireworld’stroposphere.Thefireswerebothimmenseandethereal,asunnaturalasthesham-flamesconjuredbytheshedimbutpresumablystilldeadly.Ihadaquickglimpseofothercraftonourtrajectory–tear-shapedinterceptionlanders, bulkier armoured caskets like our own, even steeply angled Navalgunships–beforetheburningcloudsraceduptoenvelopus.The lander kicked and jumped as it hit the turbulence, andwewere thrownaboutlikestrawinthethresher.Myheadslammedagainstmyrestraints,openingupacutthatranfrommyeyebrowtomycheek.Firstbloodtothisrustbucket,Ithoughtgrimly,reachingtowipeitaway.We screamed earthwards, and the lander’s guidance thrusters pulled us downand down into a near-vertical dive before eventually kicking into an arrestingcounterblast. The vibrations became bone-bruising, the noise deafening, thedecelerationcrushing.Wehitthegroundwithamightycrack,andimmediatelythecrewdoorsblastedopen.Myrestraintsshotbackintotheirgrooves,andweweremoving,springingfromourseatsandreachingforourweapons.Iwasfirstout,runningdowntherampwithRevaatmyshoulder.ItwasthenthatIfirstseteyesonTerra,forsolongthedistantinspirationforallI had ever done. Holy Terra, the home of saints and the seat of He WhoPreserves.Thedestinationofallpilgrimsandtheoriginofourspecies.I could have vomited. I could have wept, and I would have done both,assuredly,hadthemadnessandthedevilryaroundmenotreachedoutwithbothhandsandtriedtokillme.SoIdidwhatIhadbeenbroughtfor.Ikilledrightback.
TIERON
I do not remember much of that first meeting, high up in Luna’s thin air,surrounded by the starship tombs. I was overwhelmed by his presence, Isuppose, as well as by my age and frailty. All I have from that first, briefencounteraretheimpressionsitleftonme.Idonotknowhowlongithadtakenhimtoreachus.Ineverfoundoutlater,either.Iheardsnatchesfromthosewhowouldbecomethegreatpowers inournewImperium,andIcouldscarcelybelievethemeventhoughIhadnoreasontodoubtthespeakers.Infutureyearsourscholarsmaypiecetogetherjustwhatthesequenceofeventswasandassignofficialdate-signstothem.MyownsuppositionisthatCadiafellmonthsbeforewebecameawareofit,andthattheGreatRiftopenedlongbeforeits effects reached us on Terra. Rumours have come to my ears of the linksbetween the events at the Eye and the resurrection of the primarch on distantUltramar,thoughIcannotmakepropersenseofthem,andthereismuchthatIsuspectwoulddamnmeasahereticwereItopursueit.Allthisnotwithstanding,itbecamecleartomethatthejourneyundertakenbytheLordGuillimanhadbeenarduous in theextreme,acrusade thathad takenhimhalfwayacrossthegalaxyevenasittoreitselfapart.Timemayhavepassedforthemverydifferently,Isuppose,forwhentheyspokeofthatpilgrimagetheygavetheimpressionofmonthsadriftontheether’scurrents,fightingenemiesIcouldscarcelycomprehend,letalonepicture.He did not speak of that when we met, of course. None of his captains oradvisersdid.Theyhadjustfoughtaterriblebattleinthatplace,andtheirspeech
was heavywithweariness. I never discoveredwho exactly itwas they foughtthere–noonewhoknewwould tellme,and Iunderstoodenoughof Imperiallawandcustomnottopressthematter.Wemust have exchanged a fewwordsmore. Imust have told himwho theLordsofTerrawere,andwhathadtranspiredtobringsuchturmoiltotheworldof his creation. Imust have tried to tell him something ofwhatwe had beentryingtodo–tobringthe AdeptusCustodesintothewar,toreformourarmiesinto something that might oppose the Despoiler more effectively – though Iwonderifhefoundsuchscantmusingscomicalorirritating.Itwashardtolookdirectlyathim.Idon’tknowwhythatwas.Itwasasifthelightreflectingfromhisfacecamefromasourcedeniedtous,asunthatnonewhobeheldhimcouldsee.Hespokesoftly.Hewasreasonable,evensolicitous.Everycommandhegavewasissuedinthesamecalm,authoritativemanner.Allobeyedhiminstantly,notjust theSpaceMarineswhosharedhis lineage,but theMechanicusconstructs,the livingsaintswhoaccompanied thatstrangecavalcade,even theCustodianssent fromTerra. It felt thenas ifwehadbeenwaiting forhimfora long timewithoutknowingit.Nowthathewashereamongus,a terribledoubtbegan tolift,foratimeatleast.Andyet Icouldnotenvyhim. In raremoments, Iwouldcatchaphenomenaldegreeofpainpresentinthosesteadyblueeyes.Imightcatchhimlookingatthegrotesquelyover-militariseddocksofLuna,orthebattle-batteredshipshanginginorbit aboveus, and see a shadowof astonishment passing across a front ofpatricianreserve.‘YoumayfindTerra…different tohowyouremember it, lord,’ I said tohimbeforewemadeplanetfall.Lookingbackatthat,Icringe.Ofcourseitwouldbedifferent. He had already seen enough of the Imperium to know that, but ofcourse I was extrapolating into a past I only knew from half-understoodhistorical records. I envisioned the world he had come from as a paradise ofaccomplishment,andofcourseImighthavebeenwrongaboutthat.Perhapshispaincamefromadifferentsource.PerhapsImis interpretedhimentirely.Afterall,whowasItojudgethemindofaprimarch?HewasasfarabovemeasIwasabovethespine-roachesthatwehadallowedtoinfesttheThroneworld’ssewers.Alittlelater,theCustodianShield-CaptainAdronitusledourdelegationtothewarshipthatwouldcarryusbacktoTerra.Iwashonouredtotravelwiththem,one of very few mortals who did so. I was surrounded by figures I founddaunting to lookat, letaloneaddress–SpaceMarine lords,Mechanicusmagi,
Grey Knight commanders. I took my place among them, ignored by all, andsilentlywatchedwhatunfolded.Atthatstage,thebrutalassaultontheLion’sGatehadnotevenbegun.Beforewesetoff,IthoughtoftheunrestonTerra,theterrorintheskiesandthevisionsinthenight,andassumedthenthatwewouldfinallyseeitallquelled.Wepassedswiftly fromLuna’s orbit, escorted bymany ships from the task force sent inhaste.TidingswerepassedinthestrictestconfidencetotheSanctumImperialisandlandingpermitsarrangedfortheEternityWallvoidport.Itfeltsurrealeventobethere.Itfeltsurrealthatanyofitwashappeningatall.Ofcourse,theLordGuilliman’sprocessionintothePalaceisnowastorywellknownand toldmany timesbymanysouls.TheEcclesiarchyhas issuedmorevids of this single event than they did over a thousand years previously.Everyone has heard tell of the enormous crowds of well-wishers lining thestreets,cryingoutforjoyandreachingouttograspthehemofhiscloak.Well,itdidn’tquitehappenthatway,atleastnotasIwitnessedit.Therewerecrowdsindeed,againstallour intentions,forsomehowtherumourmanagedtoscamperaheadofus.Wecamedown inside theperimeterof theOuterPalace,farfromtheworstoftheunrest,andsotheprimarch’sfirstsightofhissubjectswasthemostfavourableitcouldpossiblyhavebeen–thescholiasts,thePalaceguards,thepriestsandtheministersofstate.Andyet,Icouldbarelylookathimduringthatterribletime.Wecouldnothidejust howdesperate thingshadbecome.Hecould see forhimself theunnaturalstormsragingintheatmosphere,andwitnessthedarkenedprofileofthedefunctAstronomican fortress. He could see thewalls stuffedwith defenders and thesmouldering,half-derelictstretchesof thecitybeyondthewalls.Perhapsworstofall, evenwhenwegothim inside the intactprecincts, to theholiestand themostimmaculateofourcitadels,helookedatthemasiftheyweresomekindofinsult.I watched it from a distance, my stomach churning to witness a great souldraggedintosuchacesspit.Ilookedaroundme,atthegrime-chockedaquilae,attheracksofgunsdefilingtheangel-crownedparapets,atthepilesuponpilesofheavydefensiveworksandthesqualorthatcrustedoveritall,andtheshameofitmademenearlysick.Thiswas theworldwehadmade.Thiswas theworld he had fought for andpreserved,andwehadmadeitdiseased.BythetimeIwasreunitedwithJekIcouldnothidemydisquiet.Shelookedatmewithconcern,andweretiredtomychambersalone.
‘Didyouspeaktohimagain?’sheasked,desperatefornewsdespiteheranxietyonmybehalf.‘Alittle.Notmuch.’‘Then you were right to go.’ She became animated, trying to make me feelbetter. ‘This is thestartofsomethingnew.You’replacedwell tobenefit.He’llneedcounsellors,oneswhounderstandhowthingsworknow.’Butthatwastheproblem.Ihaddonemorethanunderstandit.Ihadcontributedtoit.Iwaspartofthedecay.Weallwere.‘He needs no counsellors,’ I said, sinking onto my fine couch miserably.‘Really,truly,heneedsnoneofusatall.’
Imusthaveslept,perhapsforonlyafewhours,perhapsformuchlonger.Ihadawfuldreams,evenworsethanIhadhadoverthepastweeksandmonths,andIcouldfeelmyselfthrashinginmysleep.InthemostvividofthemIfeltthatthechamber around me was burning, the flames streaking up the drapes andcrashing into thehighceiling. Isawfaces in thoseflames, inhumanfaceswithstretchedjawsandlongfangs.IawoketofindJekshakingme.‘Onlyadream,’Imumbled,comingtoslowly.Icouldseetheintactoutlineofmybedchamber,andthewallswerenotburning.‘No,’shesaid,herexpressionterrible.‘Notanymore.’Shedraggedmefromthecouch.Myrobeswerestickywithsweatbutshegavemenochancetochangethem.Inoticedaswehurriedthroughthecorridorsthatthe light from outsidewas even redder than before – arterial in intensity, andflashingwildly.Theairwashotterthanithadeverbeen,hardtobreatheandfullofchokinggrit.‘Whatisthis?’Iblurted,stilldisorientated.‘HowlongwasIout?’Shedidn’tanswer,buthauledmetoahighbalcony.Westumbledintotheopen,andthecurtainsflappedwildlyaboutus.IcouldseetheLion’sGatevoidportlaidoutfarbelow.Itwasalongwayaway,screenedbyshiftingpallsofashanddust,butIcouldseeenough.Istaggered,catchingholdoftherailing.Jekreachedforme,holdingmeup,butshewasalreadytrembling,herwholebodyrigidwithshudders.Ihadnowords.Ihadnothoughts.IfeltlikeIwantedtoscream,butnosoundcameout. From somewhere, someold instinct thatwouldn’t quite leaveme, IwantedtoaskwhereGuillimanwas,whereValoriswas,wheretheHighLordswere,whetherwecouldgetourforcesintoplaceanddowhatneededtobedone,
butmylipswouldnolongermove.Ijuststoodthere,paralysed,rootedwithfear,andsaidnothing.We no longer needed to worry about Cadia.We no longer needed to worryaboutanything.Ithadhappenedatlast,everythingthattheprophetshadforetoldandthatwehadignored.TheEyehadcome.TheEyehadcometoTerra.
VALERIAN
I had never moved as fast. I had never cleaved as strongly. My muscles,sanctifiedandgene-wrought,hadneverrespondedasperfectly.Killingisanart,justliketheothersweexcelat.Whenitbecomesnecessary,wedo not treat it as a duty, we treat it as a vocation.We learn the ways of ouropponentsjustasapainterstudieshermodel,observethelightandtheshade,theformandheft,thethreatandtheopportunity.Iwasaloneinthathour,asaloneasIhaveeverbeen.TheGreyKnightswerealwayscloseby,andfoughtasanunbreakableunit,andthereinlaytheessentialdifferencebetweenus.Donotthinkthatweignoredoneanother–farfromit.Wesavedoneanotherfromdeathmanytimesin thosefirstfewdecisivemoments.Thisstill remains,though–IfoughtinthewayIhadbeenbredto,drivingmysuperlativephysicalformtoitslimit,gaugingeverythreatwithamicrosecond’sprecision,relyingontheabsoluteintegrityofmyequipment.They,though,wereabrotherhood.Ihadlearnedtheirnamesbythen–Alcuin,the Justicar, led the squad. They covered one another’s backs, they roaredencouragement,theywatchedforamomentaryslipfromtheirbattle-comrades.IwitnessedthisevenasI toreintotheheartof thedaemonkind,andevenasthedefencelasersonthewallfloodedtheeeriescenewithdazzlinglight,andevenasthegoldenattackcraftroaredoverheadtostrafeandbludgeon.Icouldsensetheirpsychicoverspillastheywadedintotheenemy,bladesandhammerswhirling.Everyphysicalblowwasmatchedbyacorrespondingthrustofthemind,andtheiresoterichalberdsflaredwiththeincreaseinvelocity.
Thusweenteredthearenaof theenemy,likeandyetunliketooneanother,alionsetbesideangels.Theyscreamedatus,manyofthemgreaterinstatureeventhanme. By then their witch-birth was complete – their heads had elongatedsickeningly,theirclawshadextended,theirlegshadfirmedintoglossyreverse-angled,hoof-terminated striders.Theyhad themaniaofvictory in thoseblackeyes, fuelled by the legions of their own kind around them. Amusk of purebloodlustclottedtheair,headyandoverpowering.AlreadyIcouldseelesserdaemonkindscramblingupthelowerreachesofthewalls, freezing their grip onto pitted adamantium, forming bridges with theirown bodies to allow greater warriors to vault above them. The horde wasendless, merged with both heaven and earth, a liquid mass of writhingmalignancerammedhardontotheplaneofmortalexperience.Webothknewwhattheywere,AlcuinandI.Weknew,as otherscouldnot,thatthesethingswereourownpsychesmadeintoflesh.Weknewthatourrage,anyrage,fuelledthemandmadethemstronger.Theyfedfromourbasestinstincts,and sowewere doing nothing somuch as fighting ourselves.Allwe had leftwere the things that remained once rage was purged from us – duty,commitment,resolve.I punched my fist through the heart of a bloodletter and yanked it from itsswelter-chest,thenswungaroundtolancethetipofGnosisthroughtheneckofanother, then crunchedmy elbow into the spine of a third before spinning toslammyglaive’shilt intoafourth. Iwas lost innumerologyby then, reachingintothenearfuture,scrutinisingeverythingasImoved,calmattheepicentreofthehurricane.Alcuinforgedapathbesideme,drivingtheNeverbornbackandslicing them apartwith psy-laced blows fromhismighty daemonhammer.Histroops stayed close, locking and swaying in concert, crying words ofdenunciationastheystrucktheirbladeshome.Thedaemonwasharmedbytheweaponsofeternity,thisweknew.Theheavybarrage of las-fire from the parapets, cutting through the blood-rain in boilingvolleys, could slow or inconvenience them, but to kill a daemon one had toreturntotheprimordialmethodsoffistandblade.Theyhadbeenspawnedfromouroldestwarsandouroldesthates,andwewouldneverdragourselvesawayfromthatprimalgenesis.The gate itself was still a kilometre distant, shrouded in burning palls andscreenedbyheavycurtainsof inundation. Its summitwasaflame, cutopenbythe massed reports of macrocannons and las-emplacements. Flyers swarmedoverit,launchedfrompadswithinthePalace,andbattlewasjoinedintheskies.
Heavy bolters opened up, driving long furrows into the already deep-scoredterrainandsendingdaemonssmashingback into their raveningkind,who torethemopen and devoured thembefore turning back to the assault, their lollingmawsdrippingwithblackichor.Thewall itselfwasa falseprotection– thedaemonswouldnothalt at it,butgiventimewouldswarmandwrenchandclawitdown.Theyneededtobemetonthefieldofbattle,theirhatematchedwithzeal.I swung my blade and sent its tip whistling through the midriff of a racingbloodletter,thenpivotedtodrivetheshaftintothejawsofanother.Theyhadnotlaidaclawonmeyet,butthenumberswerebeyondcomprehension,andmorewere being spun from the flames, vomited out into reality, tumbling intoinstantiationtolaunchintous.I saw one of Alcuin’s squad reel as he was struck, his psychic defencesmomentarily breached, and I interposedmyself between him and his attacker,slicing its head from its shoulders before spinning back to face the next one.That leftme a fractionof a second shyofwhere I needed to be, and the firstblowcrackedintomypauldron,knockingmeintotheembraceofafangedandwingedterror.‘Exsiliumdaemonica!’criedAlcuin,hurlinghishammerheadatthecreature.Theaircrackedopen,sendingasearingbeamofsilver lightcrashinginto themonster’schest, throwingitdeep into theadvancinghordewhere itsownkindtoreittoscrapsbeforeboundingontoreachus.Then we were fighting again, no time to issue a word of thanks, our limbsblurred,ourheartsfloodinguswithhyperadrenalin,oureyesfixedonthemyriadandshiftinggoals.Allthiswastheworkofseconds.Thatwasallittookforthegreaterforcesonthewalltoperceivethedangerandreacttoit.Eveninthemidstofmycombat,lost inapressofstrikeandcounter-strike,myspiritsoaredtoseetheresponsefrommybeleagueredPalace.Egress-pointsopened,wreathedincoronasofheavybolterprotection,exposingthered-rawinnardsofthewall-fortress,anddownfromthoseopeningsstreamedtheforcethathadbeenkepthiddenfortenthousandyears.Inphalanxesofblackandgold,mybrothersstreamedfromtheLion’sGateinnumbersnotseensincetheWarofShame,theirspearsglintinginpiercingranksoftemperedsteel.Isawbannershauledaloft,thesamegoldenstandardswehadborneintobattlein the Age of Wonder, still unsullied after the passage of millennia. Heavygunneryplatformsdroppedfromtheinnardsofhoveringtransports,openingup
withspinningcloudsofdestruction.LandRaidersingoldandblacktrundledoutfrom cover, spitting arm-thick beams of las-fire. Italeo was there, leading achargedowntherightflankdirectlyintothepathofoneofthegreaterdaemons.Valoris surged down the very centre, his spear flaming as it cut deep into theenemyhordes.IsawwarriorsinburnishedTerminatorplatelumberintocontact,theirclawscuttingtheairaroundthemintoslivers,andbehindthemtheReveredFallen,swaggeringfromthebelliesofsteamingdroppods,wieldingswordandshieldandtoweringoverallbutthegreatestoftheNeverborn.The Adeptus Custodes had issued to war, and the Throneworld reeled nowunderthemassedtreadofitsmostpotentsons.Thetideofcrimsonmetthefloodof gold, and the screams of the dissipated became truly frenzied. The twinarmiessmashedintoatangledcontact,aserriedwaveofimpactsthatcrackedtherockcreteandthrewtheblood-rainintowhirlingvortices.I fought on, driving myself ever harder, feeling an inexplicable joy well upthroughmyspeed-smearedlimbsevenasIrentandtoreandhackedandgouged.Icouldhavecriedoutloud.Icouldhavelostmyselfinthemoment,foramidthecarnagehadcomeasightfromthelostaeons,afragmentofourgloriouspastmade real oncemore.TheCaptain-Generalwas there, slaying inmajesty.TheTen Thousand were unleashed, pouring their slow-burning fury onto the onlyenemythathadevertrulymattered.Wehadreturned.
ALEYA
ThefightthatdaywasvileandgrimandIhatedit.Rememberthis–wewereimmunetothepsychicdreadcastbytheshedim.Wedidnotseethemasfearsomeordreadful,justexecrableandnever-ending,likeacontinent of vicious slake-worms. The entire scene before us was a pall ofsludge,kickedupindirt,cakedinbloodandsluicedinadelugeoftoxins.Valerianremembersitdifferently,ofcourse.Allthoseotherswhowerepresentrememberitdifferentlytous.There’saphilosophicalquestiontobeaskedhere,Isuppose –which of us saw things truly?You could try to answer that if youreallywanted, but you’d soon be caught up in the kind of tedious theologicaldiscussionthattheCustodiansdelightinwhenthey’renotloppingtheheadsoffthreatstotheThrone.Wenever saw the roaringcurtainsofwarpfire, andwenever saw the leeringfacesinthedark.Theearthdidnotglowlikemagma,itwasastinkingmassofrottenasphaltandbrokenrockcrete.Terra,muchtomydisappointment,wasnota scintillating world of spires and turrets, but a colossally foul sink ofdilapidation.We only had moments to take this in, however. Our lander must havemalfunctionedonthewaydown,orperhapshadbeenhitbysomething,forwecrashedtoearthontheextremerightflankoftheeruptingmelee.AsIchargeddowntherampIcouldseeaswampofblackandgreyglisteningaheadofme,anddaemonssquirminglikeinsectsinspoil.As I have already noted, Navradaran was not a fool. He had dispatched themajority of the landers closer in towards thewall,where they slammed down
just aheadof the advancing lines ofCustodians.Those ofmy sisterswhohadbeenbroughtbacktoTerrainthemonthspastnodoubtmarchedwiththemtoo,interlockingtheiruniquecapabilitieswiththoseoftheircounterparts.Thatwastheveryessenceofit,yousee.Thatwaswhythepastcenturieshadbeen such a miserable mistake. We had been made to fight alongside oneanother, two halves of a greater whole. The Custodianswere individually thefinestwarriors ever created, but theywere not themselves giftedwith psychicmastery, and nor could they dissipate the auras of destruction created by theshedim. That was our task. We had always gone into battle alongside them,drainingthemostpotentaspectofourenemyfromthem,reducingthemto thepurelyphysical.IhadhearditsaidthattherewasnothingpurelyphysicalthataCustodiancouldnotkill,andsowecomplementedoneanotherperfectly.Later,whenIlearnedmoreoftheirwaysandhadtolistentothemtellmeoverandoveragainhowmuchtheycarriedtheguiltofthepastontheirshoulders,Iwondered if our own rolemight havebeendeliberately suppressed.Perhaps itwas easier for them to retreat into the Palacewhile wewithered away in thevoid, erasingtheoldpatternssothey’dneverhavetoberemindedhowweusedtowagewar.Idon’treallythinkthat’swhathappened.Bitternesscangiveyoustrangeideas,though.Right then,ofcourse,Ihadnotimetospeculateaboutanything.Wewerefarfromanykindofsupport,lostamidtheseethingmorassofhatefulanddangerousshedim.We were hardly defenceless, but there were only five of us and ourlander’sbolter-feedwouldsoonrunoutofshells.Ihadtomakeadecisionquickly.Ilookedatthewalls–toofaraway,despitethe advancing lines of defenders. I looked out at the city behind us – just asdistant,andasidefromsomecover,lackinganyadvantage.Ilookedtowardsthecentre of the battlefield – an absolute pit of horror, presided over by eightmassiveshaitainnwith theirbunchedarms,witheredwingsanddrippingblackhorns.Imighthavelaughedatthepointlessnessofit,hadInotcaughtaflashofsilver,followedbyabrieferflashofgold,morethantwohundredmetresawaythroughaforestofclutchingdaemonkindbutobviouslystillfighting.Thatwasit.Thatwasourbestchanceofsurvivingmorethanafewseconds.Isignalled to my sisters, some of whom had seen the same opportunity. Wechargedintocontact,slammingintotheoncomingtideofgreasyshedim,hurlingourgreatbladesaroundusinwitheringarcs.
Throne,butitwasterriblefighting.Webluntedtheworstoftheirsoul-crackingaura,butthatstillleftcreaturesofiron-boundsinewandsteel-pinnedteeth.Theycarried their own crude blades forged from blunt iron, and every time IcounteredtheirblowsIfeltmybonesjar.Thiswasnotthetaskwehadbeenmadefor.Wewerewitch-hunters,seekersofshadows, fast-moving and lightly armoured. One-on-one we could slaughterthesethings,butthenumberswouldgettouseventually.Myblade churned faster, desperately, propelled now two-handed.We formedintoa tightknot, fightingback-to-backandpushingas fastaswedaredacrosstheopenterrain.Theyhatedus,thosethings.TheyhatedusevenmorethantheCustodianswhoso brutally carved them apart, because all the shedim could do was kill ourbodies,andthathadnoappealforcreaturesnourishedbythetortureofsouls.Ithinkwehorrifiedthemmorethananythingelse.Ithinkwedrewmorethanoursharetowardsus,andthatjustmademeangrierthelongerwewereoutthere.I felt slime splatter acrossmy exposed forehead, and it sizzled acidly onmyskin.Acleaversnaggedonmycalf,biting throughmyarmournearlydown tothe flesh.Mycloakwas ripped into tatters,mybreastplatesmackedbyablowthatnearlyupendedme.Sister Jerandawas the first to be killed, bringing up our rear. I didn’t see ithappenbut Iheard theanguishedscream. I finishedoff themessof slimeandscalesthatwasgoingformythroatbeforeIcouldturntoseethemdragherintotheirmidstandbeginthefeast.Wecouldn’treachher.Ifeltmyvisiongoblack.Ifeltmyfuryroaroutofme,spirallingandaugmenting.In another age, I might have cried out that fury, but I still had my vow, soredoubledthesavageryofmyassault.Irippedoutteeth,Ibrokebacks,Istrippedthe skin from their bones and flung the carcasses aside.We all did the same,fightinginawaythatcouldnotlast,forweweremortalafterall,andthosewecutintocoulddothisforever.Butwe did enough.We broke fast through the horde, shriving them of theirgreatestgifts and finishing the taskwithourgreatblades.Soon I could see theobjectofourendeavours,fightingjustaheadofus.Isawtheauraofgoldandtheflashofhardsilverlight,andknewthatwewouldcomeamongthemsoon.Evenourproximityaidedthem.Isawthemkillmoreswiftlyandmoresurely,and saw the daemons fall back before their onslaught. The Custodian wasploughingthroughthemnow,throwingshedimasideingreathaymakingthrusts
of his guardian spear. Those with him – Adeptus Astartes in archaic plate ofsilver-grey – blasted them into shrivelled ash. I began to see away for us tosurvivethis–together,fightinghardtolinkupwiththehugecounter-attackevennowsurgingdownfromthewalls.Then the shadow fell across us all, huge and repulsive. I looked up, andsuddenlysurvivallookedaverydistantprospectindeed.
VALERIAN
In truth, I never sawAleya fight her way towardsme until shewas virtuallyamongus.She finds this extremely irritating, though I have since learned thatAleyaisangeredbyallmannerofstrangethings.IfIhaddetectedherearlier,itmighthavechangedour strategy, since Ibecameaware in those fewmomentsjustwhatacriticaladvantageitwastohavetheSistersfightingwithus.Valoris was, as ever, prescient in this. Alone of the High Lords he hadanticipatedtheneedtorestore thestructuresof thepast,andaloneof theHighLords he had no prejudice against the non-soulled. The records will tell adifferenttale,Isuspect.TheywillannouncethattheFenrisdisasterpromptedtheCouncil to act, and thisversionwill reflectgloryon themortalmastersof theImperium.Though the storyhas some truth to it– the laterorderoriginated, Iunderstand,fromthesameChancellorTieronwhomImetmyself–anyonewhounderstandsthevastdistancestheyhadtocoverandthenatureofthewarpwillknow that the programmemust have been enactedmanymonths,maybe evenyears,beforethatcommandwasgiven.Inallthatfollowed,Iremainstruckbyhowinstantlyweslottedbackintothoseancientmodesofcombat.Weneedednoexhaustiveinstruction,butfellintoourroles instinctively.Theyareformidablefighters, theSisters.Ihavenothingbutrespectforthephysicalprowesstheydisplay,althoughthatisnottheirprimaryfunctionon thebattlefield.Theyposition themselves in thegreatest dangerbydoingwhat theydo – they aremore lightly armoured thanwe, and attract thelargershareofanimusfromthecreaturesofthewarp.As for ourselves, we had never lost the ability to converse in fluent
Thoughtmark.Itwasoneofthemartialdisciplineswehadmaintainedoverthemany millennia, and on that day our prudence was rewarded. Those whomarchedwith theCaptain-General from theLion’sGatewere able todo so inperfect concert, and even for those of us sundered from the main host bycircumstance, such asAleya andmyself, our combinedmethods of controlledviolenceprovedinstantlyeffective.ItwaslesseasyforAlcuinandhisbattle-brothers.Theywereallpsykersofthemostacutekind,andtheireverywakingmovementwasanimatedbythewarp.Forthem,theetherandthemateriumwereintrinsicallylinked,twosidesofthesame blade that they balanced on effortlessly, and they were accustomed tofighting with the two worlds enmeshed. Even their armour is psy-enhanced,augmenting the cruder biological links used by their counterparts in otherChapters.ThearrivalofAleyaandhersistersrestrictedwhattheycoulddo,andreducedthemtofightingassolelyphysicalwarriors.Inthecircumstances,however,thatwasasacrificeIwaswillingtomake.TheGrey Knights, even stripped of the bulk of their psychic expertise, were stillamongthefinestfightersIhaveeverencountered,andtheyadjustedtothenewsituation with uncomplaining precision. Robbing the daemons of their mostdreadfulpowerswasworththefractionalreductioninmyallies’flexibility,andwe all fought from then onwards as if facing beasts, rather than thought-monsters.Indeed,theyyowledlikebeaststhen,thedaemonkind.Theirexultationwastornfrom their jaws and their feral glee was replaced by a kind of outrage. Theyhatedthis.Theyhatedbeingdenudedoftheirownrealm’spurestdimensionandbeingforcedtoengageusonmortalterms.InthemomentsbeforeIsawAleyaemerge,Idorememberfindingthefightingsuddenly and inexplicably easier.We had pushed hard into that horde’s heart,aimingforthehighstagesofanoldlandingpad.BothAlcuinandIhadseenthepotential of it – a high raised platform, ringed by stairways, commanding avantageovertheeasternportionofthehugebattlefield.Ifwecouldmakethat,Ijudged,itwouldservetwopurposes–togiveushighergroundtodefendagainsttheendlesstideoftheenemy,andtomakeusvisibletoValoris’forcesadvancingfromthenorth.Ifwecouldendurelongenough,inwardteleportationorairdropcouldsecuretheposition,openingasecondfrontagainsttheenemyanddividingthem.We had almost gained that location when the Sisters reached us. Even as Iwonderedwhy Iwas killing the daemonic hordewith such fluency, I saw the
womanIwouldlaterknowasTanauAleyadrivingintothemwithallthefuryofabaresark.ShethrewherselfaroundinwhatImighthavethoughtwasrecklessblood-mania,haditnotbeensobluntlyeffective.Shedidnotengagetheenemysomuch as run through them.My first thought onwitnessing such a style ofcombatwasthatshewouldsoonexhaustherself,allowingthedaemonstotakeadvantage once she tired, but of course that was to miss the purpose of thesingle-mindedcharge–theyhadworkedsohardinordertolinkwithus,toformupintoacombinationthattheNeverbornwouldfindimpossibletocounter.After thatwewere fighting together, sliding inamongstoneanother,dancingandparryingandinterweavingasifborntoit.Alcuin’ssquadmusthavefoundtheSistersuniquelyunsettling,evenpainful,butinthethickofthatcombattheyhadnochoicebut to adapt.The tenofus formed intoa tight circleofbodies,myselfandtheGreyKnightstakingthebruntofthephysicalassault,theSistersdirecting their null-effect from the shadowof our blades.Whenever oneof ustiredormadeamistake, anotherwould leap into thebreach.We left a trailofslaughter behind us, and finally gained the foot of the stairs. I looked up,expectingtoseetheplatformrearaboveus,readytoplanourassaultonthehighposition.Only then did I see what we had attracted, rushing across the fire-sweptplatformtomeetus.Aleyacallssuchthingsbytheancientname,shaitainn.Thatcapturesthestatureand the horror better than the Low Gothic, I think. It was truly gigantic, fargreaterthananyfoeIhaveengagedbeforeorsince.Itrearedhighintotheblood-rain storm, itswings lashing like the sails of some ancient galleon. Its clovenhoovessunkdeepintotherockcretewitheverystep,breakingtheearthintofreshplumesofflame.Itsmovementswerehorrific–bleedingwiththesamepoweraTitanhas,butboundupinsinewandgristleandbone.ItsaxealonewasthesizeofaDreadnoughtchassis,andasthebladewhistledthroughtheairitleftatrailoffireinitswake.It crashed down onto the platform, threw its muscle-corded arms wide, androaredinchallenge.Thegaleofthatroarsentthelesserdaemonsflyingintooneanother, and evenwehad to lean into that foul, spittle-flecked stormofmeat-rottenbreath.I could senseperversion radiating from its burningheart over thedampeningaegisgeneratedby theSisters. Itwas likea furnace,acauldronofboilinganduncontrollable rage. Something about it spoke of eternity, of its near-infinitemalice draggedup from the deepest vortices of the hell-plane inwhich itwas
enthroned.IswungGnosisround,itsblade-edgecracklingwithdisruptorenergies.‘This is His realm,’ I told it, calmly. ‘You feared it before. You will fear itagain.’ThenIwasmoving,vaultingupthestairs,generatingthemomentumIwouldneedtocounterthedaemon’sincrediblemass.Noneofmycompanionshesitated.Theyallcamewithme,racingupthestairs,their blades poised. Alcuin was at my left shoulder, crying out words of fellpower and denunciation, his daemon-hammer now psychically inert but stillphysically powerful. His battle-brothers laid down a rain of shells from theirwrist-mountedstormbolters.Aleyawasatmyrighthand,hersilenceifanythingmoredaunting,hereyesblackwithfury,andbehindhercametheothers,runninginlock-step,chargingintotheheartofdarkness.As I reached the summit I leapt high, bracingmy spear tomeet the scythingpathofthegreataxe.Thebladesimpacted–hell-wroughtironagainstImperialsteel–andtheshockwavescreamedoutacrosstheentirebattle-plain.Icrashedto the ground, thrown wide by the blow, only to be replaced by Alcuin whoslammedhiswarhammer into thedaemon’s leadinggreave.Hisbattle-brothersthrewthemselves inclose,hackingandthrustingwith theirgreatbladesbeforepullingcleartosendvolleysofsanctifiedbolt-shellspunchingintoitshide.TheSisterschargedalongsidethem,cleavingatthedaemonicfleshevenastheirauraswelleduptodeadenitsfearsomepower.I raced intocontact,only to seeoneofAlcuin’swarriorscrushedbya singlekickfromthecreature’sspikedhoof.Itswungaroundagain,vastandponderous,slammingtheaxe-bladedownwheretwoSisterswereretreating.Theironheadplungeddeepintotheearth,throwingbothfromtheirfeetandsendingburningcrackssnakingacrosstheplatform.Itwascolossal,asoul-cruciblefuelledbyveinsofmoltenleadanddrivenbyacoreofinextinguishablevenom.Ourbladesbarelyscratcheditsflesh,ourblowsbarelyhalted itsheavy rampage.Everypendulousswingof thataxewasmorethan lethal,unleashing forcescapableof levellingwhole fortressesandagainstwhichourarmourwasaspotentasparchment.Ifweweretohaveanychancetoenditwewouldneedtodaretheimpossible.I sprintedharder, throwingmyself high and reaching for thedaemon’sbrass-dischauberk.Igraspedontoitsiron-studdedbeltwithmylefthandandplungedGnosis with all my strength. The blade drove deep, causing a fountain ofscorching blood to gush out, splashing against my visor and making me gag
from the stench.Thedaemonbellowedand jerked around, trying to throwmeloose,butIgrippedtightlytobothspearandbuckle.I heard Alcuin cry out then as he smashed his warhammer into the beast, Icaught a blurred glimpse of the Sisters racing to carve fresh wounds into itsexposedflesh.ItwistedGnosis,tryingtodriveitunderthecreature’simmenseribcageandprisebonefromsinew.JustatthelastmomentIsawitreleaseoneclawfromtheaxeshaft,readytoseizeme,andIyankedGnosisfree,droppingdownbeneathitstwistingbulkandswervingfromtheoutstretchedtalons.Bythenthelesserdaemonshadracedbackafterus,scramblinguptheslopeinaskitteringwaveofcrimsonflesh.TwoofAlcuin’swarriorshadtoturntoholdthembackattheheadofthestairs,fightingfuriouslyevenasaSisterrushedtotheiraid,furtherdiminishingourassault.The greater daemon stamped down again, pulverising more of the torturedrockcrete. Its axewhistled across, the rune-marked head igniting as it hurtledinto one of Aleya’s troupe, bisecting her cleanly and sending the bloodyfragmentsspinningintothemassesbelow.Fournull-maidensremainedstanding,fourGreyKnights,allnowpressedhardand carryingwounds. I spun in towards themonster again, knowing that onlyanotherclose-rangeblowcouldpossiblyharm it. It felt likeassaultinga livingmountain,albeitone thatgyratedand thunderedandbroughtdown the firesofhell. The platform was slippery with blood by then, dragged down from theunholyrain,anditfizzedandpoppedagainsttheever-kindledflame.Ijabbedanotherdeepwoundintoitsveinedthighbeforedartingawayfromtheswingoftheaxe.AstheheadscreamedpastmeItwistedandturned,slammingGnosis down on the great iron shaft of theweapon. The impactwas horrific,jarring my arms to the bone and nearly shattering them, but my blade brokethrough its tortured mass, severing the shaft in two and showering me withflyingsplinters.Thecreatureroaredwithtruefurythen,turningonme.Avastfistpunchedout,catchingme fullandsendingme flyingacross theblood-soakedplatform.Theworld spun aroundme, and sharp pain speared upmy right leg as the bonessmashedandarmourrent.Themonsterlopedafterme,shakingoffassaultsfromAlcuin, its blazing red eyes fixed on me. I twisted Gnosis round in my fist,swingingitupevenasthedaemonsweptoutoftheflames.Itheldthestuntedaxe,itsshaftnowbrokenandlittlemorethanastumpbelowtheironblade,highaboveitshornedhead,themusclesonitschain-drapedarmstaut. I saw its jaws foamingwith bloody saliva, its unholy flanks shimmering
withsweat,itswingsspreadwidelikeadeathshroudoverusall.Itriedtorise,stumblingonmyuselesslimb,andrealisedthenthatIwouldbetooslow.Ilookedup,sawtheaxeheadhurtledown,andknew,withallthecertaintyofmylongtraining,thatIcouldnotevadeit.
ALEYA
Theshaitainnwasabrute.Itsessencewassopowerfulandsoprofoundthatevenourcombinedauraofsuppressionwasonlypartiallyeffective.At times,aswefoughtit,Ievengotbriefflashesofwhatitmusthaveseemedliketothosewithsouls–alivingfurnace,afiredevil,abull-hornedbeastthatburnedandburnedandneverwentout.Buttherestofthetimewasbadenough.Itwasfoetid,liketheyallwere–theclottingaromaofslopsandputrescence.Itwasathingofdeath,steepedinthecorpsesofthoseithadended,andthearomaclungtoitlikeplague-musk.Iwastaken abackby the sizeof it, the sheerbulkof the thing, andour charges feltlittlemorethansuicidal.ThatwasbeforeIsawthewaytheothersfought,though.Itpainsmetosaythis,because I shared amutual, unavoidable loathingwith theknightsofTitan andstillfindValerian’sendlesspietyutterlymaddening,buttheyweremagnificent.Icame to realise that my observations in the practice cages on the EnduringAbundancefell farshortof themark– in truecombat, theywerebreathtaking.Alcuin’ssquadwerefarfasterthanIwouldhavethoughtpossible,andthewaythey combined into a tight-edged forcemultiplier gave us killing potential farbeyondourpaltrynumbers.TheywereeverythingIhadbeenschooledtoadmireintheSpaceMarines–implacable,focused,absurdlyviolent.PerhapsValerianoutstrippedthembyafraction,butthentherewasonlyoneofhim,andinthatarmourhewasalwaysdestinedtocatchtheeye.Istillrememberseeinghimleapupat the shaitainn’schestandplant that ridiculousspearrightintoitsheart.Icouldhavelaughedoutloudattheaudacityofit.Notonlythat,
but he succeeded in getting out again, trailed by the black strands of thecreature’sghastlyinnards.PerhapsonlyweSisterscouldseejusthowbadlyhe’dwounded it then, forwedidn’t have to copewith thephantom flames and thesham-roaroffracturedpsy-voices.Of course, they would not have done as well without us. Four null-maidensactinginconcertcangenerateaformidabledampeningaura,anditcrushedthespiritof theshedim.Theybecameslower, theybecameweaker,andeven theirblood-madlordwasstrippedofitsmonstrousbraggadocio.Wedidourpartwiththe blade, too.We hurt it, and that felt good. Every time my sword sliced achunk of grey skin from the shaitainn’s greasy backmy heart rejoiced. Iwasnevergoingbacktomyflamer,Iresolvedthen.Thiswasfarmorerewarding.OnceValerianbroketheaxeshaftIthought,dangerously,thatwemighthaveachance.Revawas still alive and fighting besideme, andwe rushed forwards,beatingevenAlcuintothechancetolandablow.Thingsmovedtooquicklyafterthat.IsawValeriantakethatpile-driverpunchdirecttohistorso,andthoughthemustsurelyhavebeenobliteratedbyit–thedaemon’s fist was almost half as big as he was, and he should have beensmashed into pieces. Instead, he just spun away, battered and broken but stillgraspinghisbladeandverymuchalive.Itwouldn’t stay thatway.The shaitainnwasmaddenedby themaulingof itsweaponandragedafterhim,raisingitsaxe-stumptwo-handed.Thethingcouldmove incredibly fastwhen itwanted, almost as if it could slip between time-states.Inhishalf-crushedcondition,therewasnochanceofValerianevadingthecominglunge.BythenRevaandIwererunning,actingon instinct, throwingourselvesafterthehugecreatureinafranticattempttohaulitback.Ipounced,knowingIwastoo faraway. Iwasnowhereclose todamaging it seriously,but its trailing legremained in range, and I somehow got my greatblade at the right angle anddroveitdownanddownthroughthecreature’sstrainingthews,partingthepalegrey strands of slickened muscle until its movement ripped the hilt frommygauntlets.Thatwouldn’tkill it,ofcourse. Itwasn’teven thegreatestof thewoundswehadalreadygivenit,butitwaspushedintoitsweight-bearingleg,justaboveitshugeanklebone,andevenforawarp-forgedhorror,thatwasabadplacetotakea skewer. I extendedallmynull-energy into that strike,willing thewarp-spunflesh topart and implode.Mybladedid the rest,blazingwithblue flameas itburnedwithinthewound.
The entire limb twisted and buckled, and the shaitainn missed its target,slamming the axe-head down a fraction to the right of the proneValerian andcrashing, overbalanced, to the earth. The shock was massive, smashing thealready blown asphalt and sending clods of it careening. Its mighty headthumpedtotheground,forthefirsttimedownatourlevel,anditswingssaggedinto crumpledtanglesoftatteredleather.Thatwas allValerianneeded. I sawhim sweepup from thewreckageof thecreature’sfall,haulhisbladeoverandspinitinasinglemovement.Cryingoutloud from the pain and exertion, he drove the spear point-first through thedaemon’s throat,powering itwithbotharmsuntil it almostdisappeared into amireofburning,bubblingichor.Alcuinwasonlya fractionofasecondbehind, leapinghighbeforeslamminghis daemonhammer into the creature’s ribs, and then the rest caught up. Weforgotourselvesentirelytheninthatorgyofslaughter,pilingintotheenormous,strickenframeasifitweresomuchmeat,knowingthatitcouldstillcomebackfromthemostincrediblewoundsanddeterminedtostopthathappening.At the end,we stood, all of us, drenched in foul fluids, panting hard, dottedamid the ruins of its cyclopean corpse.Valerian limped towardsme, and onlythencouldIseethedamagehe’dtaken.Imarvelledthathecouldstandatall,letalonestillwieldthatspear.‘Thatwaswelldone,Sister,’hesaid, thefirst timeIeverheardhimspeak. Itwaslikehearingsomethingoutofadevotionalvid,thevoiceofamartyrsenttocomfortthemasses,andIinstantlyfounditannoying.Therewasnorespite.TheNeverbornstillcameatus,leapingoverthecorpseoftheirlord,ashungryasevertoripoutourthroats.Theskywaslitwiththecriss-crossoflas-beamsandmortartrails.Thedaemonarmywasstillenormous,stillassaulting the walls, still raving and bellowing and tearing. The entire Palacewashalfobscuredby thedust theykickedup,andwewere isolated,setonanislandamidthatseaofwrath.Andyet I could see that themomentumhad shifted.Heavyaircrafthadbeenlaunched and were pummelling the ground-locked daemons with punishingvolleysofincendiaries.TheTenThousandweremakingground,drivingintotheenemyandencirclingthegreatshaitainn.Theairstillburnedandcrackled, thegroundstilltrembled,butIcouldseeanendtothis.Somethinghadhappenedtobreakthedaemons’advance,thoughevennowthematterremainedpoised.Butwewerestillalone,andstillsurrounded.Backtoit,Isignedwearily,takingupmybladeoncemore.
TIERON
OnceIwouldhavebeenkilledforwitnessingwhatIwitnessedthen.Nomattermyrank,nomatterthesituation,Iwouldhavebeendraggedintoaneyelessgaolby the Inquisition’s henchmen and ended quietly in the dark. I’d seen oldwarrants,copiesoforderssignedbycommandersondistantworldscloaked ineuphemistictermsreferringtosterilisationsandclearances,butreallysignifying,Iknew,deathcampsandmind-wipes.ThatwasthepenaltyforlookinguponthetruefaceofourgreatestEnemy,andformillenniatherehadbeengoodreasonsforthesanction.Wehadtodenywhatwewerefacing,or thefate thathadbefallenTerraoverthepastmonthswouldhavebefallenallworldsmanyyearsago.Wehadtolietoourselves,tothetrillionsspreadacrossthevoid,lestweallwentmadwithfear.The people could not be allowed to knowwhat was waiting for them on theothersideofthebarrierbetweenlifeanddeath.Eventhebestofuscouldnotbeallowed to know.That precept extended to the greatestmilitary figures of ourages,themostpowerfulcardinals,and,yes,eventheHighLordsthemselves.For those likeme, giftedwith influence and resources and access to secrets,therewasalwaysspeculation.Wespokeof the ‘GreatEnemy’,andwehadallheardrumoursofwhatthattrulymeant.AsIhavesaid,theexistenceoftheGreyKnightswasanopensecrettotheHighLordsandtheirclosecounsellors,aswasthepurposeofsuchbodiesastheOrdoMalleusandtheDeathwatch.Weknewthewords,weknewtheterms.Butitisonethingtohaveapartialunderstandingofthenatureofourfoes,anditisonethingtoreadhalf-garbledaccountsofstrangedoingsontheothersideof
thegalaxyandspeculateonwhattheymightmean,butitisanothertoseewithone’sowneyesthefullunmediatedhorrorofreality.LookingoutthatnightonthebattlefortheLion’sGate,Icouldappreciatethewisdomofthosewhohadproscribedeventheverymentionofthediabolicfromourwakinglives.Theywerecautious,thoseearlydraftersofthegreatlaw,andtheyweresensible.Theyknewthatonlyaveryfewcouldbetrustedwithsuchtruths,thatmostwerenotstrongenough.Ihadneverdoubtedthatwisdom,andsohadnever trulyabusedmyoffice todelve intomatters thatwerenotwithinmylimitedremit.As I watched then, I realised I was weeping. I was crying uncontrollably,rackedwith a terrible fear and a horror that clutched atmy bones and chilledthemtoice.Iwassofarfromitall,highupinthemostsecurepinnaclesoftheSenatorum Imperialis, surrounded by Palatine Sentinels and accompanied byJek,andstillthesightovercamemeentirely.Iwantedtopullaway,toturnfromitandfleedeepintothevaultsbeneath.IfIhadgiveninthen,Imighthavetriedto burrowmyway down to theThroneroom itself, to fall prostrate before theonly one of our race who had ever seriously stood up to the nightmares ofeternity.Somehow, I forcedmyself tostay.Afterall,what Iwitnessed thenwasbeingobserved by millions of soldiers on the walls and by thousands of appalledscholarsintheirgreattowers.Theconflagrationcouldbeseenformiles.Wesawthe clouds break with deluges of bloody rain.We saw the sky crack and theflamesshootupfromtheearth.Wesawthoseflamestwistandgrowandspewforth creatures of such dazzling maleficence that the only response was toscream out, or cower down out of view, or remain rooted in disbelief andcripplingfear.That was the moment when the old precept changed. We could no longerpretend,andwecouldnolongerhide.Terrawasnotlikethoseotherworlds–itsbillionswerenoteasilyerasedfromhistory,andifwehadslaughteredallthosewhosawthedaemonscavortonthatnightwewouldhavehadanemptyPalaceandasilentCouncilchamber.IknewIwouldonlybeaspectator,butIfeltitimportantthatsomeonetriedtoremember what happened, and that we did not leave the record of it to thewarriorswehadbuilttobecapableoffightingsuchmonsters.Allofthem–theCustodians,theSpaceMarines,theSistersofSilence–hadbeenhollowedouttomake themstronger.Theywereno longer trulyhuman,anyof them,andsuchwastheirsacrifice–theywerebothbetterandworsethanwewere,andIwould
be damned if they and only they became the arbiters of history in this, theImperiummadetoshelterhumanity.BythetimeIreachedmyvantage,thebattlewasalreadyatitspeak.IwitnessedValoris lead his columns into the very heart of the heavingmass of invaders.TheypouredoutoftheLion’sGatebeforespreadingintohundredsoftinypointsoflight,minglingwiththeoncomingcohortslikeliquid.Irefusedtheofferofavisualaugmenter,knowingthatclose-upimagesmighthauntmeforever,anddidmybesttowatchwithoutlosingcontrolofmyfaculties.Fora long time, itseemedtome, thebattlewashorriblypoised.Thedefencelasers on thewalls laiddown such ablistering curtainof fire that itmademyeyesstreamjusttowitnessit,andwesentflightafterflightofgunshipsstrafingthe enemy ranks, but the only truly effective counter-attack came from thosewarriorsonthegroundwhocouldbringtheirancientweaponrytobearupclose.Theworst towitnesswere thegreatest of thedaemons, thosemighty roaringcreatures of flame that strode across the battlefield like flesh-bound towers. Icouldnotevenglanceatthemdirectly,andmerelyhearingtheirroars,evenfromso far away, was physically painful. Those things led the charge against theLion’s Gate itself, and when their sorcerous fire met the barrage from thelascannonstheresultinginfernowaslikethevoidborndestructionofstars.SomeofthemwerecastdownbytheCustodians,workinginconjunctionwithwhole phalanxes of null-maidens, and themany brutal duels between daemonanddefenderwerehorrific towitness.But theycouldnotallbestopped,andIcouldonlywatch as the gate itselfwas finally breached, its towers torn downand itsguns silenced. Iwatched thebrazendoorscrumbleunder the relentlessonslaught,andsawthefirstofthebehemothspassthroughtheportal.Even at such a timeof unsurpassed destruction, nothing I lived through thenwasworsethanthatsight.Isawthevastcreaturestrideacrossthethreshold,itswhipofflamecurlingaboutitsbloodytorso,itsobsceneheadsplayedopeninaroaroftriumph.Isawtheancientdefencesstackedarounditslideintoheapsofburningrubble,andsawthedefendersburiedaliveevenas theyranfromtheirstationsinterror.Idonotknowwhatwouldhavetranspiredifhehadnotbeenwithusthatnight.I like to think that Valoris would have rallied his troops, thousands of whichwere still contesting the great void port expanse beyond, and pulled back todefeat it. I like to think that, if he had somehow failed in that, the mortaldefenders,whostillnumberedinthemillions,wouldhavebeenabletostaunchtheassaultwiththesacrificeoftheirownlives.
In the end, neither was needed. The Lord Guilliman came at last, hasteningdown from the heights of theSanctum.Hebroughtwith him all those he hadbeen able to gather from his already war-wearied task force – companies ofSpaceMarinesfrommanyChapters,thelivingsaintswiththeirhaloesofgold,the last of the Grey Knights summoned from Luna. That force, so small innumbercomparedwiththedelugeofmonstersthathadspilledthroughthegate,tookthemon.Youwillneverhearanaccountofthatbattle,notasyouwillhearaccountsofhis triumphant return toTerra, nor the great crusade that followed those days.YouwillneverhearhowRobouteGuillimanfoughtthegreaterdaemonatoptheruinsoftheLion’sGateastheskiesrainedcrimsontearsaroundthem.Youwillnever read of how the two of them duelled amid the screams and the rearingflames, each testing the other to destruction, teetering on the edge of thetreacherous precipice while the hordes of damnation seethed below. You willnever hear how themonster nearly ripped him apart with a single lash of itswhip,orhowhisbrowglowedwiththelightofthesunwhenhefought,orhowin theendhedrovehis sword into thedaemon’schest andcleanout theotherside.Youwillneverhearhowhechokedthe lifefromthatunnatural leviathanwithhisgreatgauntlets, thencastitsbodydownfromthepyramidofdebristobreakapartonthebloodydustbelow.Iwatcheditallthroughmytears,andfeltnoshameinthat.Myknuckleswerewhite on the railings; my heart was hammering like a child’s. I watchedGuilliman fight, a scene dragged straight from the age of legends, and for amoment I imaginedIcouldhavebeen there, rightat thestart,when itwas theWarmaster’sarmiesbreakingthroughthewalls.Youmightthinkmefortunatetohaveseensuchthings.Ifyouhadaskedmeinmy youth what I would have given to see a primarch take the fight to ourgreatest enemy, Imight have told you that Iwould have happily died for theprivilege.ButjustthenallIfeltwasakindofnumbinggrief.Forsolongwehadbeeninmoralstasis,rehearsingoldstoriesanddrawingstrengthfromthem.Welaughedabouttheprimarchsreturning,mostlybecauseweknewitwouldneverhappen.Now that it had, I felt empty. The dream had not become reality; reality hadbecomelikeadream.Morethanthegatewasdestroyedonthatnight.AsIwatchedthecolumnsofsmoke rise into the storm-light and saw the vengeful Custodians pursue thescreamingdaemonsfarfromtheburningwalls,Iknewthatthevictoryhadonly
beenfleeting,andthattherealchangehadalreadytakenplace.Wehadgrownusedtokeepingourfearsatarm’slength,lockedbehindCadia’sdistantbarrier.Now,with the falteringof theAstronomicanand thewaningofourlongwatch,wewouldneveragainbeabletolietoourselvesaboutthenatureof what we faced. If they could strike at us here, they could strike at usanywhere.Nowallswouldbe toohigh,noprotection toocomplete,nohiddencitadelbeyondtheirreach.I turnedawaythen,unwilling tosee thefinalcarnageunfold.Myhandswerestillshaking,mycheeksmoist.Ifeltempty,likeadried-uphuskthrownfromthefire.ThePalacestillstood.Itwaseverythingelsethathadbeenruined.
VALERIAN
I didnot leave that battlefield until theweak sunwashigh in the sky and theclouds glowed a dirty pink. Slaying the bloodthirsterwas only the beginning,andtherewerethousandsoflesserdaemonkindstilltocontest.Thecreaturesofthewarploatheandfearoneanotherfarmorethantheydous,andsothekillingof theirmaster did not daunt them. If anything, it freed them to commit evenmorerecklessactsofferocity.Theysurgedupthestairsandstreamedacrosstheplatform,yowlingandboundingwithabandon.Wemightyethavedied,hadwenotremainedclosetooneanother.Myfightingwasbadlyhamperedbymywound,althoughmysinewsreknitandmybonesre-formed even as I still wielded Gnosis, such was the resilience of my gene-wroughtbody.Alcuinwas the linchpin in thosemoments, andhadbeengivenfresh vigour by the sight of the daemon’s demise. He led the counter-assault,smiting the Neverborn with a viciousness that I doubt any other could havematchedjustthen.Hetrulyhatedthosethings,andImustadmitthatitmadehimbrutallyefficient.Wetookmorelosses,though,andasIlookedoutatthatoceanofdetestationIsuspectedourresistancewouldonlylastafinitetimebeforeitwassnuffedout.Wewerelucky,Isuppose.Or,asIdonotstrictlybelieveinluck,wemusthavebeen favoured yet by His gaze. I had begun to think of myself as beingsomewhatbeyondHisconsiderationsincemyfailureattheThrone,andthusdidnotlookforanyespecialindulgencefromthewaysoffate,butourduelwiththebloodthirster had been noticed. Valoris had dispatched cadres of our finestwarriorstoengagealleightofthem,andhehimselfhadledthechargeagainst
those at the heart of the horde. Just as I began to think we would beoverwhelmedatlast,goldenliftersbravedtheblood-rainandthefire-lightningtodeliver Terminator-clad brethren to our side, as well as the Contemptor-entombedYnnades,whostrodefromhisattackcraftsurroundedbyaglitteringforceaegisandwadedintothedaemonswithdisdainfulmajesty.ThenIknewwewouldsurvive.ItookituponmyselftoprotecttheSistersofSilence,whoseeffortsinreachingus,andthenwardingus,hadbeenexhaustingfor them. Only three remained alive, including the one who had downed thebloodthirsterandsavedmylife.Isworetomyselfthatshewouldnotperish,andthatifIlivedthatdayIwouldfindawaytorepaythedebtofhonourtoher.Thatwas,inhindsight,astrangethingformetothink.Iwasnotusedtohavingsignificantdealingswiththosenotofmyownkind,andinanycasewedidnotgenerallyindulgeinsuchconceptsof honour debt as I am told that theWolves of Fenris do. Still, it gaveme apurposeandabalancetomyfighting.Sowesawout thosegrindinghours.Theplatformwasheld,andmore troopswereairliftedin,andthenwewereabletopushdownthestairsagaintoretaketheplainbelow.Valorisledasecondcounter-assaultfollowingthedestructionofthelastgreaterdaemon,andafterthatwecouldhammerourwayouttowardstheperimeteroftheoldvoidport.I killed more creatures of the enemy in those hours than I had done overhundreds of years previously. Despite my wounds, I found the combat – asNavradaran might have said – invigorating. It gave me pleasure to see thosethingscrushedbeneaththeheelofmyspear.Itgavemepleasuretofeelmybodypushed to its limits. I feltastrangesenseof release,as if long-invisible fettershad been lifted from my arms, letting them move with greater purpose andvindication.Bythetimethesunwashighinthesky,weknewthefightingwouldsoonbeover. The daemons were fleeing, flickering back into their own realm evenbeforeourspearscouldplungeintotheirtranslucentbodies.Tomysurprise,IfoundthatIalmostregrettedthecessationofviolence.BythetimeIsentGnosishurtlingintothelastneckofthelastkill,Ifeltnoelationofany sort. All I felt was a curious ache of withdrawal, of something beingsnatchedfrommebeforeIcouldfullyunderstandit.Thiswasthedisturbingfactor.Iwantedmore.
TIERON
Eventhen,therewasnorest.InthehoursthatfollowedthebattlefortheLion’sGate, the prudence of the Arx Doctrine became fully apparent, as ourpreparationsmeantwecouldreadilyferrythousandsofbattle-hardenedtroopstostaunchthegapsleftbytheCustodians’sortie.WecouldmobiliseourTitanstoholdsentinelwithintheInnerPalace,andairliftevengreaternumberstoholdthelineinsidethegate’sremains.It became clear we would endure. The greater daemons were destroyed, thelesserstillhunteddown.Wehadtakenfearfullosses–wewouldbeassessingthedamage for weeks afterwards – but the unthinkable had been averted by thenarrowest ofmargins. Soon activitywithin the Palace shifted, and thereweresuddenly inquisitors everywhere. I saw vulture-like ships hovering over thefieldsofslaughter,andstrangefigureswearinguniformsevenIdidn’trecognisestalking through the drifting smoke.Wewere doingwhatwe always did aftersuch events – trying to smother them, to erase them, to push themout of ourminds.Thatexercisewasmorefutile thenthanithadeverbeen,andsotherewasanevengreaterunreality to thedays that followed.Our labours remained intense,but the focus shifted.We rebuilt as bestwe could.Huge teamsof reclamatorsand enginseers were sent to the defence lines, only to be held back from theworst of the combat sites by Inquisitorial agents, and fresh fighting broke outbetweenrivalhoardersofsecrets.TherewasamoodinthePalacethatwehadfallenasfarasitwaspossibletogo.TheAstronomicanremaineddormant,limitingourcommunicationwiththe
wider Imperium.Our planetary defences, so painstakingly constructed over somany centuries, had shown they could be bypassed with trivial ease, and socovetouseyesbegantobecastoverthemillionsoftroopslockedupintheranksuponranksofhigh-orbitdefencestations.Intheshockoftheassaultonthewall,very few remembered the plight of the immense world-city beyond, whichremainedrestive,fearfulandstarving.Evenwithin thehallowedprecincts, every facewasgreyandeverybackwashunched.Isawmenandwomenwhohadoncewornchainsofpearlsandcloaksof platinum-thread who now looked little better than over-dressed beggars,wanderingthroughtheemptyhallsasiftheyhadforgottentheirownnames.Thecavernousrefectorieswereempty,thechapelsechoing.Atthetimeofourworstcrisiswehadnotneededtoworryaboutthechainofcommand, since the Captain-General and Lord Guilliman had seized theinitiative so forcefully.Now, though, thosematters suddenly became pressing.TheHighLordshadfailedintheirmostsacreddutyofall–protectingtheheartof power – and in centuries past that had always resulted in swift punishmentandachangeofpersonnelatthehightable.Iavoidedcontactwithmymastersatthattime,though,andimmersedmyselfindoingwhat Icould tohelpwith the restorationof thePalacesystems. I issuedrequisitioncommandsandlentmyservicestothosecommandersstillretainingregimentscapableofdeployment.IsignedwarrantsforresupplyandpassedonexecutionmandatestotheArbites.Ithink,lookingback,Iwasinsomekindofshock. Jek said later that I was like an automaton, moving from one task toanotherandbarelysayingawordtoheroranyoneelse.Ilostweight,whichinnormal circumstancesmight have beenwelcome, but back then justmademelookhaggard.Mymemoriesof thatperiodarefuzzy,andIdonotrecallmuchof thedetail.Oneepisodestandsout,though.IrthuHaemotalionhadeverbeenathorninmyside,andsoitwaswithmuchirritationthatIrespondedtoasummonsfromhismuch-diminished private staff and travelled halfway across the Palace to findhim.He had always been a sallow figure, but nowhe looked positively ghostly. Itriedtoimaginehowhefeltabouttherecentdisasters.HewastheMasteroftheAdministratum, that stupendously vast edifice that controlled the flow ofinformationbetweensystemsand thecentre.More thananyofushe traded incommunication, the endless tide of parchment that was our empire’s oxygen.Now,though,hewasblindandnearpowerless,cutadriftfromhisownservants
bythemadnessofhisastropathsandtheimpossibilityofvoidtravel.OtherHighLords,likeArxorFadix,couldstillusetheircurtailednetworksofcontrolandsubterfuge,butHaemotalion’srealmwasthevisibleImperium,itsscholarsandits scriptoria, and that had been revealed as perhaps themost fragileAdeptusstratumofthemall.Wewalked together in the cloister of anold oratory setwithin his sprawlingprivate estate, its stonework caked in spidery lichen. The skies above us stillburnedwiththatmournfulember-glow,andeverysooftenwewouldlookupatit, fearful that the blood-rainwould start again.Haemotalion, a tall and gauntfigure besidemywaddling frame, twitched as hewalked, a nervous tic I hadnevernoticedhimsufferfrombefore.‘You’vebeenhardtoreach,chancellor,’hesaid.‘Apologies,Master.There’sbeenmuchtoattendto.’‘Nodoubt.ButthisisatimefortheCounciltoremainstrong.Wemustrebuild,andswiftly.Andyet,therehavebeendisturbingrumours.’Ilookedathim.Igenuinelydidn’tknowwhattheymightbe.‘Oh?’Haemotalionpressedhislipsscepticallytogether.‘Youwantmetosayit?Youwant me to say the words? Very well. Your friend, the primarch. That’s theproblem.Whatarewetomakeofhim?’Ihadnoidea.Noonehadanyidea.Therewerenoprecedents.Thelastlivingprimarchhaddisappearedintomyththousandsofyearsago,andeventhegreatarchivesoftheLexdidnotstretchbackthatfar.‘HeistheLordCommander,’Iventured.‘He was the Lord Commander. He was many things. He was part of therebellionthatbroughtussoclosetoannihilationhecurtailedhisownpowertoprevent it happening again.’ Haemotalion sniffed. ‘They’re still saying thisbringsusanewdawn.Ifearitonlybringstheoldnightback.’Ididn’thaveanargument.JustasithadbeenbeforemymadobsessionwiththeAdeptusCustodes,Ihadrevertedtobeingacipherfortheviewsofthepowerful.‘Dotheothersfeellikewise?’Iasked.‘Some do. There’s been too little time to form a consensus.’ He stoppedwalking and drew closer. ‘He’s no longerwithin the great halls. They tellmeValoristookhimdowntotheheartofthe Sanctum.I’minformedhe’sstillthere.Theysayhe’sdescendedintotheThroneroomitself.’Ilookedathimsteadily.‘Ifanycandoso,surelyit’shim.’‘Noneofuseverventuredit.’‘Didyoueverwishto?’
TheMasterwasinnomoodforhumour,howeverbleak.‘He’lltakecontrol,’hesaid. ‘That’s thedanger.We’llwin thisbattle,only toseeTerra takenfromus.Andwhatthen?AnotherGreatCrusade?Apurgeofallwe’vestriventobuild?Youcanseeit,Itrust.Thedanger.’I rememberedhow I had felt onLuna,witnessing that pain of recognition inGuilliman’seyes. I foundmyself thinking thatapurgeofallwehadstriven tobuildmightbenobadthing.‘Now,perhaps,youunderstand the follyofwhatyouwere trying to engineerbefore,’ the Master said, starting to walk again. ‘You would have sent theCustodiansintotheinfernoatCadia,justwhentheywereneededhere.Withoutthem,we’dhavelosttheLion’sGate.TheenemymighthavebreachedtheInnerSanctum.You’ve played a reckless game, cancellarius, and need to rememberwhereyourloyaltieslie.’Perhapshesensedmyshell-shockedstateandsofeltabletospeaktomethus.Iwouldneverhavetolerateditbefore.‘The Council must remain strong,’ he repeated. ‘While the Lord Guillimanremainswithin theSanctum,wehaveourchance toact. Ihavealreadyagreedwith Pereth to forbid all fleet movements off-world. Arx has instructed thoseclosetohertocordonoffthesitesonLunaandbegintolimitthefalloutfromtheLion’sGateencounter.Wecanhaveamillionmoretroopsherewithindaysiftheorbitaldefencesarenowdeemedovermanned.Theyallowetheirallegiancetous. The Titans are within Raskian’s purview, as are the skitarii maniples in-system,andhe’swithus.’I could hardly believe what I was hearing.We had been reduced to this, itseemed – squabbling over the conduits of power even as the Throneworlddisintegrated into starvation and lawlessness and our walls were heaps ofdaemon-infestedrubble.‘Withrespect,lord,Idonotthinkthisisthetimeto–’‘This is the only timewewill ever have. He is a primarch. You know yourforbidden history – they were fratricidal lunatics, prepared to tear the entiregalaxyaparttopursuetheirfeuds.WedesignedtheLex–hedesignedtheLex–preciselytostopthemdoingiteveragain.Hecannottakecontrol.’Ismiledgrimly.‘Andhowwouldyoustophim?HewasoncethecommanderofaLegion.’‘TheLegionsareno longerhere, though,are they?They’regone intohistory,justwheretheyoughttobe.’‘Notall,’Isaid.
Haemotalionnodded.‘Youareright.Oneremains.OneLegion,theEmperor’sLegion.Youdidwhatyoucouldtobringitunderourcontrol,Isuppose.’‘Thatwasnevermyintention.’‘Valorisisoneofusnow,andhemustbemadetoseereason.’IrememberedhowtheCaptain-Generalhadbeen,backinthecryptwhenIhaddaredtotrytoimposemywillonhis.Hewouldnotsufferhimselftobeapawninourgames.Thatwaswhytheyhadresistedbeingdraggedtothetableforsolong.Hemusthaveknownofthisdanger,orseensomethinglikeitcoming.Wehadpridedourselvesonallouractivity,rushingaroundwithouredictsandourpolicies and thinking the Custodians moribund relics of a long-gone age, buttheyhadplayedthequietgamemoreperfectlythanusandnowheldthebalanceofpowerintheiretchedgauntlets.IrememberedwhatValerianhadtoldme.WearenotapartofyourImperium.WeinvolveourselveswithinitonlyifwedeemthatHiswilldemandsit.‘Theywon’tworkforus,’Isaid.‘Notnow,notever,andIwasnevertryingtoachievethat.AllIwantedwastoseethemsetfree.’Harster’sfacestillhauntedme.‘Iwantedtoseethemtakethefighttotheenemy.’‘Then you’ll give him all hewants,’ saidHaemotalion. ‘You’ll give him thecrusadehelustsfor,andtheblood-tidewillrisesohighwe’llalldrowninit.’‘I’llgivenooneanything,’Isaid,growingimpatient.‘Youseeanythinginmyhands,Master?I’velostitall.Weallhave.’Hegrabbedmyshoulder,forcingmetofacehim.‘He’sonlyonesoul,andhe’snotbeenherelong.’Hetwitchedheavily,andIfelthisbodyspasmthroughmyrobes. ‘They say that this Imperium is a rotten corpse, a shell ofwhat it oncewas.I’veneverbelievedthat.We’regreaternowthanwe’veeverbeen,andthesetrials are no different to the ones we overcame before. We’re hardier, we’retougher,we’vefacedthedarkforlongerthanheeverdid.Hisageisover.We’retheinheritorsofthemantle.’Ilookedintohiseyes,andsawhowpoorlytheyfocusednow.‘Hecan’ttakethisfromus,’hesaid.‘Hecan’tbeallowedto.’WhenInextspoke,Ididsocarefully.‘Thenwhatdoyouwishmetodo?’Iasked.‘Support us. Keep the cordon in place, resist the Adeptus Custodes beingdraggedintothis.Ifhewantstolaunchacrusadeofhisown,lethimkillhimselfaloneoutthere.HemustnotbecomethenewLordofTerra.Valorismustremainwithus.’
I don’t know whether he believed all of that. Perhaps he truly thought thatGuillimanwouldusherinyetmoredestruction,ormaybeheonlyfearedforhisownstandinginthisnewImperium.AllIknewwasthatIhadbeenconvincedofsomethingbackthen,drivenbyaforcethatittookalongtimetorecognise.Haemotalionhaddonemesomeservice,albeitunintentionally.AsIlistenedtohisdesperation,Ifeltsomeofthatresolvereturn.I hadn’t been wrong. Not entirely. This was not about the Council, and notabouttheprimarch.ThiswasaboutwhatValerianhadsaid.ThiswasaboutHiswill.‘I serve the High Lords, as I ever have,’ I said, looking the Master of theAdministratum in the eye, knowing that itwas now a lie and unable to feel ashredofguilt.
VALERIAN
Inthedaysafterthat,wecountedthecost.ClosetofourthousandofmybrothershadbeencommittedtothefightingattheLion’sGate, andmore than half of themhad perished.Thosewere staggeringlosses for us.We had not absorbed such pain since the SecretWar of ancientmemory, and I remember reading the tally of the fallen with astonishment.TribuneItaleowasoneofthosewhohadperished,fallingevenasheslewoneofthe greater daemons. Other names I knew well were on those lists, some Imournedgreatlyforinthemonthsthatfollowed.Afewofthegravelywoundedwere taken to the Tower of Hegemon to be interred into Dreadnoughtsarcophagi, though the practice had become so rare for us that therewere notenoughchassisforallthosewhoneededone,andthuswelostsoulswhomighthavestillserved.Thegriefwasreal,butourcapacitytofight,aswellasourresolveforit,wasundiminished.InthiswewerenotliketheAdeptus Astartes–wedidnothavesettledcompaniesandChaptersthatwereledbyirreplaceableindividuals.Toacertainextentwewere islands, able towork togetherwhen thewardemandedbut otherwise entirely self-sufficient. We retrieved the armour of our fallencomrades,wegavethemhonouraswetookthebodiesdownintothehallowedtombsofremembrance,andthenweturnedourmindstowhatcamenext.I recalled the exchange I had hadwithChancellorTieron.Those old debateshadfeltesotericatthetime,adistractionfromourancientdutiesandrituals,buttheypreyedonmymindnow.WeallknewthattheCaptain-Generalhadtakenaplace on the High Council, something that bound us more closely to their
deliberations than before, butwe did not knowwhere that would lead us. Somuchwaschanging,anditseemedinevitablethatwewouldbecaughtupinitsomehow.By then I had also heard about the LordGuilliman. News of his return hadspreadthroughthePalacequickly,firstinhushedwhispers,theninincreasinglyconfidenttonesfromthemouthsofthosewhoknewthetruth.FewhadlaideyesonhimsincehistriumphalentrytotheSanctum,anditwaswidelybelievedthatValorishadnowtakenhimtotheThroneroom,wherethetwoofthemremainedclosetedformanydays.Anadjutanthadbeenassignedtohim,thenewtribuneColquan, Italeo’s replacement,whowould act as liaison between him and theCaptain-General, but otherwise he served as little more than a backgroundpresence,alegendthathadnotyetsteppedfullyintothelight.SomeofmybrothershadwitnessedhimfightduringtheheightofthebattleoftheLion’sGate,ofcourse,thoughtheysaidlittleaboutit,andIhadlittleinterestinfindingoutmore.Aprimarchwas aprimarch.Wepreceded them, just as theSistersofSilenceprecededthem.WeknewthetruthofwhattheyhaddonefortheImperium,bothforgoodandforill,andalsoweunderstoodwhatroleourMasterhadintendedfor them in the beginning, as well as what He had hoped for following theapocalypseoftheSiege.Ifoneofthatfraternityhadindeedreturnedtobolsterourflaggingdefencesthenthatcouldbewelcomed.Ourdutywouldremainasithadalwaysbeen–asithadbeenbeforetheLegionshadbeencreated,andasithadbeenaftertheyweredissolved.Formyself,Ihadotherpriorities.Oncemywoundshadhealedandmyarmourwasrepaired,IdidwhatIhadswornIwoulddo,andsoughtoutTanauAleya.IfoundherinquarterssetasidewithinthePalacespecificallyforthereturnedSistersofSilence.Theywereancientbuildings,onceusedtotrainandgarrisonthe thousands of null-maidens of the Imperium, but more recently used as afortress for the Inquisition. There was talk of reinstating the archaic SomnusCitadelonLuna induecourse,but thatwasnot something that couldbedonequickly, and so for the timebeing thenewarrivalswereherded togetherhere,wheretheneedwasgreatest.Ittookmesometimetolocatehercellwithinthathugeandramshackleedifice.TheInquisitionhadburnedalltheirrecordsonleaving,aswellasdestroyingorremovingmanyof theoldchamberfurnishings, leavingthefortressdark,dankand cold. Servitors were everywhere, hauling machinery and lumen-banks,powercoilsandsupplycanisters.Thesoundofturbo-drillingechoedupfromthe
foundations,andIsawhugevoidshieldgeneratorsbeingwinchedintoplacebyheavycargo-lifters.Someofthefortress’newoccupantshadservedwithImperialinstitutionsforalong time already, and so the adjustment needed for a life within the newdispensationwassmall.Theyretainedtheirownarmour,mostlystillbearingthesigils of individual Black Ships, and carried weapons marked by heavy use.ThoseSistersmade the signof theaquilaas Ipassed them,and I returned thegestureofacknowledgement.The sensation of being surrounded by somany null-souls in such a confinedspacewas,Iadmit,unnerving.Theeffectwascumulative,andthefurtherinthatIwent,themoreIbecameawareofthestrangesenseofnumbnessinthefilteredair.Ihadnoticedit lessduringtheheatofbattle,butnow,withsomethinglikenormalityrestored,Icouldbegintounderstandwhyithadbeensoeasyforthemtoslipawayfromus. Itwashard tobearoundthem, to tolerate thevagueandnagging sense of wrongness that they exuded. I resolved to concentrate, toovercomesuchquintessentiallyhumanweakness.Iwassupposedtobebeyondsuchthings,afterall.Eventually I found her down in the very lowest level, where the ceilingsdripped with rusty fluids and the air was thick with mould spores. Thosechamberslookedmorelikegaolcellsthanspacesinwhichtomeditate.Knowingtheidentityofthepreviousoccupants,itwaslikelythattheyhadbeen.WhenIentered,shewasstaringatapieceofstretchedleatherplacedbetweenstavesofiron.Shewassointentonherstudythatshedidn’thearmeapproach,andIwasreducedtothatmosthumanofgestures–afaintcough.She lookedup,her faceapictureof irritation.Shemusthave recognisedme,butIreceivednowelcome.Whatdoyouwant?shesigned.‘Togiveyoumythanks,’Isaid.‘Andtoregistermydebttoyou.’IwasnotsurewhethertouseThoughtmarkorspeakoutloud.Thefirstseemedpresumptuous,thesecondincongruous.Forwhat?Andwhy?Itwasjustfighting.When I had last seenher shehadbeennear collapse fromexhaustion. In thedayssincethebattleshehadobviouslybeenfedandgivenmedicine,herarmourhurriedlyrepaired,thefoulbloodburnedfromherswordandthesteelsanctifiedbypriests,butshestilllookeddrained.‘Itwasamightydeed,’Isaid,‘tocripplethatbeast.’Itwasn’tabeast, itwas shedim.You’dhavedone the same forme. Itdoesn’t
makeussoul-siblings.Thedegreeofresentmentinhervoicetookmeaback.MaybeIhadbecometooaccustomed to either awe or fear from those I served – to be faced withirascibility,thatwasnovel.‘Forgiveme,Sister.Mypresencehereisunwelcome.’Sheturnedonme,hereyesflashing.Yes,shield-captain,yourpresencehereisunwelcome.Ithasbeenunwelcomefortenthousandyears.Thronedamnyou,Iwonderyouhavethenervetofacemeatall.I could hardly keep up with the blur of her fingers then – anger made hergesturesrapidandslurred.Isawthewayyoufoughtoutthere,shewenton.I’veneverseenanythinglikeit.Youmusthavekilledhundreds.Sowhywereyouhere,andwhywerewethere?Whywerewelefttofester,andyougivenallthistorevelin?Herfingerswerestabbingnow,juttingtowardsmelikephysicalaccusations.Sothewar’scometoTerranow.Imightevenbepleasedaboutthat.Maybeit’llstiryououtofyourdamnedlaziness,thoughIfearit’stoolateforthatnow.I may have misinterpreted some of that diatribe. My suspicion is thatThoughtmark contains several expletives in its lexicon that I was unable todecipher;however,thecoreofhermeaningwasperfectlyclear.‘Youmusthavesufferedgravely,’ I said,doingmybestnot toantagoniseherfurther.‘Wherewereyoustationed?’Arraissa.Heardofthat?No,ofcoursenot.You’vebeenstuckinthePalacesolongyou’dbarelybeabletofindyourwaytothefrontgateifyourmenialsdidn’tholdyourhands.Shewaswrongaboutthat.IknewpreciselywhereArraissawas–anindustrialworlddeepintheheartoftheSegmentumSolar,oneofthemanyhundredsthatcomprisedtheproductivecentreoftheImperium.ItraisedMilitarumregimentsandsupportedarangeofsub-Mechanicus-grademanufactures,aswellasbeingaminor pilgrimagecentrefortheadherentsoftheCultofSaintEutrosius.Ifeltitpoliticnottopointthisout,though.Idoubtitwouldhaveimprovedthings.Idrewclosertoher.Somethingaboutthemapshewaslookingatdisturbedme.The script was written in an ancient dialect, one that I recognised from mystudiesintheforbiddenarchives.Wheredidyouobtainthis?Isigned.Shelookedupatme.Youcanreadit?Itookacloserlook.ThemoreIread,themoreconcernedIbecame.Overthecenturies,myscholarshiphadencompassedawiderangeoftheologicalsubjects.
IhadbecomeversedinmanylanguagesnowforgottenbythewiderImperium.Someof them, I suspect,werespokennowheresave thoseplacesonlyweandourancientenemiescouldstillgo.‘ThisisatongueofLostCthonia,’Isaidoutloud.‘Adialectthathaddiedoutlong before thatworldwas destroyed. It is the gravest heresy even to possesssuchathing.IftheInquisitionknewyouhadit–’Whatdoesitmean?My eyes passed over the swirls, running down arcane patterns that eludedsense.Itwasarepresentationofthewarp,thatwasplainenough,althoughIhadalwaysbelievedsuchthingswereoflimiteduse–theempyreanchangedallthetime,mutating itselfandtwisting intonewforms.Afixeddiagramwouldonlybeof serviceata specificmoment, and tobeable topredict thewarp’s futureformwasbeyondeventhegreatestofourprognosticators.Someaspects,though,Icoulddecipher.StarsystemsweremarkedinCthonianscript, given figurative names that I could deduce frommy knowledge of thestellarcartographyaroundtheSolregion.ThemoreIlooked,themorebecameevident.This is an invasion scheme, I signed, switching again to Aleya’s mode ofdiscourse.CentredonTerra,marking eight cardinal conduits throughwhichafleetcouldpass.Herearetheworlds,allwithina singlewarpstage,allsittingatthemouthsofsecureetherchannels.Aleya had lost her earlier irritation, and now looked at hermapwith hungryeyes.S–thoughtitmustbesomethinglikethat,shesigned,usinganame-formIdidn’trecognise,buthecouldn’treadit.Canitbeused?I committed the schema tomemory. Even as I worked, I was contemplatingwhatmustbedonewithit.Ifaccurate,thiswasofthehighestvalue,andnoticeshouldbesenttotheHighLordswithoutdelay.Wheredidyougetit?Isigned.Ibrokeupacabal.TheCirclet,theywerecalled.ThelastthingIdidbeforethegalaxybegan to break.She lookedup atme.TheBlack Legionwere on theirheels. They were involved in this thing, working through mortal cults acrossvoid-stations.ItmustbetakentotheCouncil,then.Ifanattackisplanned–She glared atme. I suffered to retrieve this.My convent suffered – we werebeingpickedoff.Ifyouknowwheretheseplacesare,wegotherenow.Weburnthembeforetheyburnus.Shewas utterly serious. Themuster of null-maidenswas only just complete.
Theattackon theLion’sGatehadonly justbeen seenoff.Our forceswere indisarray and gathering significant numbers for a fresh assault on such flimsygroundswouldbedifficult,probablyimpossible.But Icouldnot ignore the threat.Aleyawasnotwrongaboutwhatshehad–thiswassurelypartof thesamegrandassault,afragmentof thesamestrategythathadconspiredtofracturetheskeinofthewarpandsilencethebeaconoftheEmperor.Ourenemiesknewwewerehalf-blindandreeling,andsotheywouldstrike close, and strike soon. If this trulywere evidence ofwhere theywouldmaketheirfirstmove,thenitneededtobeused.Shenoticedmyhesitation, though.Thatwas themost legitimateof themanycriticismsthatweenduredintheyearstocome–thatourlongandpatientvigilhadmadeustoocautious, tooboundtooldritesandunabletoreactdecisivelywhentheneedarose.Yousayyouoweadebttome,shesigned,rapidlyandforcefully.Dischargeit,then.Showmehowtofindtheseplacesandtakemethere.I felt something unusual then, watching her thrust those flickering signs ofThoughtmarkatme.AttheveryleastIoughttohavefoundherpresumptuous,and at the worst guilty of the gravest disrespect, but instead I found myselfunable to suppress the twitchofa smile. I admired thiswoman. I admiredherlackof deception andher genuine fervour.By theThrone, I even admired theway she conversed, not that I expected that the sentiment would be readilyreciprocated.Nothingaboutwhatshedemandedwassimple.Wewereinflux, theCaptain-General was with the Emperor Himself, as was the Lord CommanderPresumptive. The High Lords, in whose names the Imperium was stilltheoreticallygoverned,werefullydetainedwiththemanytasksofrecoveryandrearmament.TodowhatsheaskedrequiredinfluencethatIdidnotpossess.Buttherewerewaysaroundmostobstacles.Dwellinginthesnake’snestofthePalaceforaslongasIhaddonehadtaughtmethat.‘I know a person towhom this could be taken,’ I said. ‘If we do so,may Isuggest,withallpossiblerespect,thatyouleavethetalkingtome?’
ALEYA
Ineverforamomentbelievedthathewouldactuallydoit.Iwasmerelytakingoutmyfrustrationsonhiminthatcell,tryingtomakehimfeelasbadasIdid,andyethelistenedtome,andthenheevendidasIasked.Perhapshereallydidbelieveall that talkaboutdebtsofhonour,ormaybehesawthetruedangerofthemapinawaythatIdidnot–inanycase,itforcedmetolookathimwithratherdifferenteyes.Intruth,mydesiretohuntdowntheplanetsonthatdamnedflayedparchmentwasasmuchaboutgettingoffTerraasanythingelse. Inmyshort time there Ifoundtheplacealmostunbearablydepressing.Iwasnotseeingitatitsbest,ofcourse, and I appreciated that the war had come suddenly and brutally to itswalls,butevensomyrancourtowardsitonlyintensifiedthelongerIwasthere.Therewasneveranapology.NoofficialfromtheHighLordsevercametousandexpressedregretfor thewaywehadbeentreated.Weweresimplythrownintothathideousfortress,givenourordersandexpectedtoformourselvesintoanarmy thathadnot fought together formany thousandsofyears.Theywerefools, all of them, the High Lords – blind fools that were unworthy of ourservice.My only allegiance, in those days, was to Him. That, and that alone, neverfaltered.IsworeavowthatIwouldavengemysisters inHisname,butnot inthenameof theCouncil andnot at theirbidding.Everything Iwoulddo fromthat point onwards would be framed within that prism of vengeance, and IlookedforwardferociouslytothecomingoftheenemytotheThroneworldsoIcouldvisitsuchpainonthemastheyhadonme.
IneverthoughtthatValerianwouldgivemearoutetothisrevenge,northatitwouldhappensoswiftly.Hestoodthereinmycell,withhissoft,patientvoice,ignoringmyrepeatedinsultsandstudyingthatinfernalparchmentasifitwereafascinatingbutharmlesspieceofinterestingillumination.Mostinfuriatingofall,heprovedimpossibletoprovoke.Hatredseemedtohavealmostnopurchaseonhim,asifitwereanemotionhesimplycouldn’tunderstand.Later,afterIhadspentmoretimeinhiscompany,Irealisedjusthowclosetothemarkthatjudgementwas.Itwasactuallymoreacase,Ithink,ofhishavingnoconceptionwhatsoeverofpride.Hehadnoegotobruise.Hesawhisentirelifeasapureexpressionofservice,andwishedfornothingmorethanthat.Hisonly ambition, of anykind,was to serve theThronemoreperfectly. If hehadbeen ordered to throw his armour away and stand in the path of daemonicarrows,hewouldhavedonesowithoutcomplaint.Thatwasthekeydifferencebetween him and, say, a Space Marine. A Space Marine was a creature ofincredibleinternalpride,awarriorbreedofsuchbellicositythattheywouldgotowar–andhaddone–overmattersofmartialinsultortheresentmentsoftheirflawedprimarchs.Valerianwouldneverhavedonethat.Inthatdistinction,Ifelt,wasbothhisgreateststrengthandhismostprofoundweakness.Wewentfromthecell,takingapicterimageofthemapandleavingtheoriginalinitsstasisfield.Aswewent,Icouldtellthathewascommunicating,sendingurgentrequestsforameetingaheadofus,evenashekeptuptheflawlessstreamof Thoughtmarkwithme.We passed into finer parts of the Palace,with highstained-glasswindowsandgold-chasedcolumns. I sawfewwarriorsbutmanymenialsandevenmoreAdeptusscribes,allracingfromonetasktoanotherlikea herd of startled bovines. The scale of it all was numbing rather thanimpressive–anendlesswarrenofchamberafterchamber,hallafterhall,linkedby a filigree of bridges and transit arches thatwove through the toxic air andturnedthemind.Heguidedusexpertly,walkingswiftlybutneverhurrying.Hiswound,whichIhad thought might have been terminal, was by then hardly in evidence. Hispowersofrecuperation,Isurmised,wereasimpressiveashisabilitynottotakeoffence.Soonwehad entered some truly grand regions – basilicas andmansions thatpiled atop one another in a bacchanalia of cumulative construction. ThroughnarrowportalsIcaughtglimpsesoftheverycentreofitall,thecolossalSanctumImperialis itself, rising against the northern horizon like some continentallandmass,partmaskedbythehazeofdistance.Iwonderedbrieflyifwewould
goanywherenearit,andmyinterestwaspiqued.HestiahadalwaystoldusthatonlytwoorderswerepermittedintothepresenceoftheEmperorHimself–theCustodiansandourselves.Oneday,Ithoughttomyself.Oneday.Butthenourpathturnedawayfromit,andwewereclimbingintoostentatiousrooms lined with mirrors and hung with thick tapestries. The luxury wasobscene–justoneofthemanyartefactsthatlitteredthosegalleriescouldhavebeen ransomed for the annual tithe of an entire planet. The courtiers that wepassedbyinthoseplacesIfoundrepugnant.TheybowedlowtoValerian,andtome, but I found the shallow subservience disgusting. One woman had thetemeritytoflashmeatimidsmile,soIshotheraThoughtmarkstun-gesturethatsentherreelingintoatablefullofglassware.Attheendofit,wefoundourselvesusheredintooneofthemostopulentroomsof all, a veritable magpie’s nest of ancient objects and antiquaries. I lookedaroundatitall,tryingtogaugehowmuchcoinitmusthavetakentoassemble.Soonafterwards,heavydoorsat the farendof thechamberopenedsmoothlyandtwofiguresentered.Onewasawoman,fairlyyoungwithacleverfaceandadancer’s erect bearing. The otherwas aman, older,with a heavy paunch andthick lines under his eyes.Neither of them looked like they’d slept for a longtime, and their fine robes couldn’t hide a certain quiet desperation. The mangreetedValerianwithwarmth,though.‘Shield-captain,’ he said, holding out both hands. ‘This is an unexpectedpleasure.’‘I wish it were under better circumstances,’ Valerian replied. ‘ChancellorTieron,thisisTanauAleyaoftheSistersofSilence.’Honoured,Tieronsigned.‘Iwillbeswift,’Valeriansaid.‘Isthischambersecure?’‘Come,now.’‘The Sister has evidence of imminent attack onworldswithin a singlewarpstageofTerra.Ihaveimagestoshowyou,onesthatIampreparedtovouchfor.The targets areall incloseproximity, andmightbe reachedanddefended if atask force were launched soon. The High Lords should be informed, andarrangementsmadeforimmediateresponse.’‘HaveyouinformedyourCaptain-General?’Tieronasked.‘HeiswiththeEmperor.’The chancellor nodded, understanding what that meant. He looked at me.Wheredidthisevidenceoriginate?
HellionQuintus,Isignedback.Thoughthatmatterslittle.Theyhaveknowledgeof thecomingstateof thewarp,andhaveisolatedeightopenconduits leadinghere.Allofthemaresocloseastobevirtuallyontopofus.Tieron looked pained by that, as if those tidings could possibly have beenunexpected.Idon’tknowwhathethoughttheenemywoulddoaftercomingsonear to destroying the Palace walls – a secondary assault would always havebeenonitsheels.‘Gravetidingsindeed,’hesaid,movingawkwardlyover toachairandsittingflabbily in it. ‘And they come at the worst possible time.’ He looked up atValerian. ‘You remember our old dealingswith that issue ofDissolution?Yourememberhowthatwent?’Heshookhishead.‘Ifonly thatwerestill themostpressingmatteronmytable.’Ishotaquickglanceathiscompanionthen.Shehadnotbeenintroduced,butIcouldtellthatshewasmorethanafunctionary.Theywereaunit,thesetwo,andsheradiatedaquiet,steadyintelligence.‘TheHighLords have shut down the system,’ Tieron said,wearily. ‘They’rerecalling every remaining scrap of defence to the Palace and forbidding off-worldmovement.TheMasteroftheAdministratumisscared.He’sscaredoftheenemyandhe’s just as scaredofGuilliman, andhe somehow thinks that bothcanbefendedoffbyhoardingourremainingforces.Soletmegiveyouabriefanswertoyourquestion–therewillbenocounter-attack,notfromtheCouncil.WhiletheAstronomicanremainsdarkandthebalanceofpowerherehasyettobedecided,noshipswilllaunchfromTerra.’Thefools,Isigned.‘An astute judgement, Sister,’ said Tieron. ‘But they’re close to losingeverythingnow,andthatmakesthemreachforpoorpolicies.’‘Youwillinformthem,nonetheless,’saidValerian.Tieron laughed. ‘I’llmake itapriority, though itwon’tmakeanydifference.’Herubbedhiseyes.‘TheLordGuillimanisherenow,andthatcannotbealtered.WhenheemergesfromhiscommunewiththeEmperorhe’llbetheundisputedLordCommanderoftheImperium,andnothingHaemotalioncandowillstandin thewayof that.Until then, though,we’reparalysed, locked intooldpowergamesthatweshouldhavegrownoutofgenerationsago.’Valerianabsorbedthisquietly,asifhe’dexpectedthenews.Itookitratherlesswell.Thendamnthemall,Isigned.Iftheywon’trecogniseit,we’llactwithoutthem.‘They’llcomeafteryou,ifyoutry,’Tierontoldme.
Letthem.‘Andsuchactionwould,ofcourse,beoutsidethelaw.’YoutrulythinkIcare?Thechancellor chuckled. ‘Careful. I’ve spentmy lifedefending that law.’HeglancedbackatValerian.‘See,whenItriedtoseetheLexchangedinCouncil,itwasthestrangestthingI’deverdone.Istillcan’texplainwhyIdidit,unless…’He searched for the words. ‘Unless it reflected a greater design than mine.Perhapsmymistakewastointerpretittooliterally.TheLexdidnotneedtobechanged, because it’s clear now theLex is destined to be dismantled.But theidea,theidea–thatwasimportant.’Helookeddownathishands.‘To set the TenThousand free,’ hemurmured. ‘To unleash theTalons of theEmperor.TheCouncilwillneverallowit.Guillimanmightneverallowit.Inowthink that, if it is the right thing to do, you might have to seize the chanceyourselves.’Atthatpoint,IdonotthinkValerianwasclosetobeingconvinced.Hewasstillsoboundtohislifetime’sdevotiontoduty,interpretedasthelabyrinthofrulesand customs that had always given him purpose. I was already preparing tostormout, to findsomewayofgettingoff-worldandforcing the issuemyself,butthenTieronsaidsomethingelsethatdidtheseeminglyimpossible.‘Ihavecometobelieve,’thechancellorsaid,‘thatinfailureoftenliesourbestsignoftruth.IfailedintheCouncil,andonlynowseethatIwascleavingtoadoomedcourse.TheharderIpushed,themoreIwasresisted.Icouldn’tcrossthethreshold.Ishouldhavetakenthat,Ithink,asasigntoexaminemyinstincts.’Valeriansuddenlylookedshaken.Hestillsaidnothing,thoughthosewordshadclearlystrucksomekindofchord.I,though,wasimpatienttobegoing.Itwasclearwewouldnotreceiveanyhelpfromthissource,andifValeriancouldmerelygivemethenamesIneededtherewasnothingtostopmetakingmattersintomyownhands.Wehave to act ourselves, then, I signed, uncaringwhat the chancellormightmakeofthat.Wehavetodefythelaw.TheCustodianturnedtowardsmeslowly,andittookhimalongtimetoforcethenextwordsout. Icouldseesomethingofhisdifficultyeven then,butnowthatIknowmoreofhim,andnowthatIknowmoreoftheworldheinhabitedforso long, I think I understand just how impossibly hard it must have been toexpress them, and thatmakesme admire himverymuch forwhat he did justthen.
Indeedso,Sister, he signed,unusuallyawkwardlyandwithnoneofhisusualfluency.Ibelieve,allthingsconsidered,youmayberight.
I went back to our makeshift fortress. Valerian took his leave almostimmediately,offeringnothingbuthiswordthathewouldreturnwiththemeansfor me to realise my goal. Looking back, I find my attitude towards himincredibly trusting.Wehadbeen thrown togetherby theslenderestofchances,butalready I found it impossible to imaginehimfailing todowhathesaidhewould.Therewassomethingalmostchildlikeabouthisattitudetotruth,thoughitwasprobablyrecklesstorelyonitsomuchattheverybeginning.Iwas,though,consumedbytheurgentneedtoactonwhatwehadfound.MyquesttoreturntoTerrahadalwaysbeenpartofagreatermission–todiscoverthose responsible for the destruction of my home – and I shrugged off anylingeringfatiguetopursueitwithrenewedenergy.I knew that time was short. The locations identified by Valerian were veryclose,almostwithinspittingdistanceofTerraitself.Iftheenemyhadarrivedatthoseplacesalready thenwewerebarelybeyond the rangeof theirgunsevenwherewestood,and Icouldunderstand theHighLordswishing to reserveallourforcesforwherethefinalassaultmustsurelycome.If I had thought about thingsmore clearly, Iwouldhave realised justwhat amadgamewewereplaying.Therewaslittlechanceofusmusteringmorethanatokenstrikeforceinthetimewehadavailable,somethingthatcouldbecobbledtogether quickly and hurled into the face of an oncoming armada. It was allfairlysuicidal,Isuppose,andapartofmerealiseditfromthebeginning.Ihadno complaintwith that – Iwould have died a hundred times over just for thechance of facing the Legion that had brought destruction to Arraissa – but IwonderedthenwhatValerian’sattitudemusthavebeen.Hewouldnot,Ithought,have risked his life just for the sake of a vowmade in the heat of battle.Hisdevotion to theThronewouldoverrideanysenseofpersonalhonourhemighthavecultivated.Sowhywashedoingthis?SomethingthatTieronhadtoldhimmusthavetippedthebalance,butwhateveritwasthesenseofithadpassedmeby.Donotlookforanymorejustificationthanthat.Perhapstherewasalwaysanelement of madness in what we planned, motivated by exasperation with theHighLordsandexacerbatedbymystill-hotheartache.Iwillnotapologiseforit,andIwouldhavedonethesamethingagaininexactlythesameway.Iwasbuilttofight,tobeahunterratherthanthehunted,anditdisgustedmethatsomany
ofour alliespreferred to remainbehind thewalls rather than sallyoutbeyondthem.SowhenIgotbacktothosedankandcrowdedcells,IsoughtoutRevafirst.Wehad conversed often in the days since being thrown together, and I haddiscovered a woman after my own heart. She was fearless, devoted to herhighestduty,andwas–mostimportantly–contemptuousofthosewhogaveusourorders.Wehadeven jokedabout stealingoff-worldbefore the truechancecame,butunderoursarcasmhadalwaysbeenanelementofrealdesire.I foundher in thehalf-builtpracticecages,pirouettingand thrustingwith thegreatbladewehadboth takenasour signatureweapon.Shehad recoveredherfull fighting potential rathermore quickly than I had, and nowmovedwith aferociousgraceagain.Iwatchedherforawhile,lettingtheimpressionofitsinkin, before she noticedme, pulled her leather training-helm fromher head andcametowardsme.Youlookserious,shesigned.Canwediscusssomething?Iresponded.Shelookedatmequizzically,as ifworriedshemightbe thesubjectofa jest,butthenhersmiledied.Anytime,shesigned.PersuadingherwaseasierthanIhadfeareditmightbe.Weallknewthatbattlewascominganyway,andthechancetostealamarchonitwasappealingtohersenseofadventure.Thebanonoff-worldmovementwassomethingthatchafedwithallofus–untilsoveryrecentlywe’dbeeneffectivelybannedfromcominganywhere near the Throneworld, so to be shackled here was yet anotherindignityweyearnedtothrowoff.Wewilllikelynotreturnfromthis,Isigned,tobesuresheunderstood.YousaytheyareBlackLegion,shecountered.Ifthat’sright,thenIcarenot.Webegantospreadourmessage,workingonlywiththosewe reckonedwouldbesympathetic.WeavoidedthosewhohadservedintheLeagueofBlackShips,fortheirloyaltytotheAdeptusTerrawasabsoluteandiftheHighLordshadtoldthemtoremainon-world then theywoulddososlavishly.Themostpromisingrecruitswere those likeus, thecast-offsand the long-termrenegades,manyofwhomhadsufferedfromraidssimilartothatlaunchedagainstArraissaandalsoburnedtoavengethem.I don’t know, even now, whether those many attacks were all linked to theCirclet.ItmaybethattheBlackLegionsawusasuniquethreatstotheirgeneralstrategyandmadesuretofinishasmanyofusoffaspossiblebeforewebecameaware of it, or itmay be thatwewere simply there, isolated and ripe for the
taking.Formyself,Ithinktheremusthavebeenaconnection.IcannotthinkitrandomthatthosefromwhomItookthatmapwerealsoworkingwiththosewhoransackedmy convent, and itwas this artefact that remained our only link towhatwasalreadyunfolding.Bytheend,werecruitedthirty-twoofournumber;thirty-twoSisterswhoweresodisillusionedwithourtreatmentthattheywouldwillinglybecomeinvolvedinaraidthatwasbothillegalandlikelytoresultinourswiftdeaths.Ifoundthatbothhearteningandmoving.Wehadall livedour entire lives in an Imperiumdefined by fear and the foolish adherence to central authority. One ironicconsequence of our neglect by that authority was that we had never beeninfectedbyitsmostperniciouseffects,andwereascloseasanyofourspeciesevercametohavingamindofourown.Thehourcame.Wearmedourselvesandmarchedenmassetothehangars.Wewere lucky that our fortresswas in such disarray – therewere few guards onstation, and little more than an ad hoc mechanism for summoning anddischarging landers. Some token resistance was offered from the garrisoncommanderandascatteredsquadofhistroops,butaverygentleapplicationofour more unpleasant null-projection techniques soon had them vomitingenergeticallyovertherockcreteandclutchingtheirmigraine-splittemples.IhadstillnotheardfromValerian.Ineverdoubtedhishonesty,butitoccurredto me that he would have run into far stiffer resistance than I would have.Perhaps he had failed in securing the void transport that he’d intended to. Ibegan to consider whether we would have to make use of the semi-ruinedCadamara, which still hung in high orbit but was only barely void-worthy.Erefan would still take an order, I knew, though Slovo might be a differentmatter.Ididn’tevenknowforsurethatheremainedonboard,orevenifhewerestillalive.IvoxedtheCustodianovertheclassifiedchannelshehadgivenme,thentookmyplaceinthelander.Weboostedthethrustersandtookoff,clearingtheopenhangarexitandpullingsteeplyupintotheatmosphere.Ilookedoutofthearmourglassportalsasweascended,watchingthespoil-greysprawl of Terra spread out beneath us. The scars of the battle were clearlyvisible, a black straggle of burned earth that spread out for many squarekilometres. For a briefmoment I had a perfect view of the Palace itself, thatcolossalaccumulationthatwasmorecontinentthancity,andrealisedonlythenjust how vast it was. The place must have housed millions upon millions ofdefenders,againstwhichourhastilyassembledbandwasalmostinfinitesimally
unimportant.Butitwasn’t,ofcourse.Apartofmeknewthateventhen.We pulled into orbit, and the view from the portals sank into inky black.Voidcraftwereclusteredthereinhugenumbers,morethanwouldnormallyhavebeen the case, since somany had been pulled back from outer-system patrol.Immediately Adeptus Arbites system runners began to hail us, and a NavaldestroyerbearingtheidentSuperlativebegantoturntowardsourlocus.I saw the challenge-hails multiply on our forward augurs, all of themdemandingafull-stopandtransmissionofexemptioncredentials.WewerealongwayfromtheCadamara.Revalookedatme,andIknewwhatshewasthinking.Maintaincourseandspeed,Isignedtothepilot.The destroyer fired up its engines and began to glide towards us. I saw itsgunnerypanelsleveropen,anddetectedsevenmoreenforcergunshipsenterthevicinityofoursensors.Wehadsecondsbeforethosehailsturnedintoshells.Revalookedatmeagain.I began to speculate on whether this would be the shortest raid in Imperialhistory,calculatingwhetherwecouldboostourwaytotheCadamarabeforewewerehemmedinandturnedintoatoms.Justthen,though,somethingmuchbiggerswamintoourvisualrange–ashipof such outrageous, vulgar ostentation that it could only originate from theAdeptus Custodes. It was arrayed like a land-based fortress, piled withcrenellationsandoutsizedthrusterhousingsandglintingwithdirtygold.Valerian’svoicecrackledoverthecomm.‘Recommendcomingaboardwithallhaste,Sister,’hesaid.‘Theywon’tfireonusyet,butwedonothaveforever.’Weguidedthelanderintothevoidship’sopenhangar,slippingunderalintelofheavybrass.Everysurfaceofthatshipwasornateandgilded,broadcastingthemajestyandheritageofitsoccupants.Itwashugetoo,coveredinweaponrythelikeofwhich Ihadnever seenbefore, andwhich Iguesseddatedbacka longway.That shipmight have been the oldest thing in orbit, though itmust havebeenamongtheleastpowerfuloftheAdeptusCustodes’formidablearsenal.Valerianmetusatthehangar,cladinfullarmourandaccompaniedbynineofhisbrothers.Itwasapaltrybandintermsofnumbers,butintruthmorethanIhadexpected.‘ThesodalityofthePalaiologianChamber,’heannounced.‘Mybrothersofwar.Theyhavevowedtoaidme.’
Ibowedtothem,unsurewhatthatmeant.Hadtheybeenorderedtoaccompanyus?Ordidtheychoosetofollowtheirshield-captain?Surelyitwasthelatter,forthiswentagainsteverythingtheyhadsworntouphold.Iwonderedwhathehadsaidtoconvincethem.Ten,Isigned,almostwithoutthinking.Valeriansmiled.‘Itwillbeenough.’Inanyoneelse,evenaSpaceMarine,Iwouldhavecalledthatarrogance;withhim,itwasneverpossibletobesure.Ifelttheship’swallsrumbleastheplasmadriveskickedin.Webegantomove,headingtowardstheinnercoreofthevessel.‘ThisistheChelandion,’Valeriantoldme.‘Ashipundermyauthority.Notthegreatest in armament, but itwill serve to get us there.Wehave the service ofthreeNavigators,andtheyunderstandtheriskswhilethebeaconremainssilent.’Have you studied the map further? I signed, knowing that there was little Icoulddotodecipherit.Iwasreliantuponhimtodictateourcourse,giventhatofall of us only he understood the script and could make the link to the realplanetarysystems.‘Vorleseisclosest,’hesaid,reachingtheblastdoorsandopeningthemontoabright-litcorridorbeyond.‘Iconsultedthealmanacs,andengagedtheTarotforguidance.Itisawell-defendedworld,thehomeofthreeregimentsandaNavalbattle group. Itmay stand yet, and if sowewill aid thosewho yet resist theenemy.’Andifit’sfallenalready?‘Thenwewilldie,extractingwhatcostwecanbeforetheymoveclosertotheThrone.’How far, then? I signed, anxious to get into the warp. Now that we hadlaunchedthisthing,Iwouldnotbeateaseuntilwereachedourdestination.‘Westillhavetoclearorbit,andthatwillnotbeeasy,evenforus.’Hegavemea tolerant look, one that spoke of forbearance.Naturally enough, I found thatinfuriating.‘Butwewillachieveit,Sister.Andafterthat,weareinthehandsoffate.’
TIERON
IdidwhatIcouldtoaidthem.IcalledinafewfavoursfromthoseIcouldstilltrust–adwindlingbandbythen–andprevailedonHighLordPerethtolooktheother way as they boosted clear of Terra’s clogged local space. Jek was asdiligent as ever, working furiously behind the scenes both to hide ourinvolvement and to ensure that the right palms were greased. Our union ofconvenience, which had originated on a professional basis, then deepenedthroughamutual terror, hadnowbecome somethingmoreprofound.Wewerecertainlynolongermasterandadjutant.Perhapsrightandlefthandwouldhavecaptureditmoreaccurately.Soweachievedasmallthingforthem–theChelandionclearedorbitandmadethe warp. Once they were away, we returned to that vortex of paranoia anddisorder that passed for the Imperial administration at that dark time. TheCouncilwasrivenbetweenanincreasinglydespoticHaemotalionandarumpofmore reasoned voices, all of them occupied with overlapping and competingattemptstoclawbacksomelevelofcontroloverthePalace’svastandcomplexmachineryofgovernment.As thedayspassedandnorepeatof thegreatdaemonic incursion tookplace,some achievements were accomplished. A temporary defence line was re-established over the ruins of the Lion’s Gate, and rebuilding even began.Punitive raidswere launched into the burned-outwreckage of the eternal city,andseveralhab-zonesweretentativelyretakenbyforcesloyaltotheThrone.Weestablishedcontactwithanumberofothercontiguousregionswhereorderhadneverquitebeeneradicated,andtheprospectofresumingouroldhabitsofiron
controlbegantodangletantalisinglybeforeus.Throughoutallofthis,IremainedpreoccupiedwiththatfinalconversationwithValerian andAleya. I had little doubt thatmywordshadbeen instrumental intheir decision to subvert the Lex and take ship. Such a thing had never beenheardof,andifthetruthofitwereevertoemergethenmylifewouldlikelybeforfeit.Ididn’tcaretoomuchaboutthat,ofcourse,butIdidremainanxiousthatmyinterventionmightnothavebeentherightone.Afterall,whatdidIknowofthe Emperor’sWill? How could I even begin to offer opinions about such asubtleandobscuresubject?IfIhadeverhadanyclaimtoimportance,itwasasapolitician,notascholar.IwonderedoftenifIshouldhavestucktowhatIwasgoodat.Iconsoledmyself that,despite theprecedentbeingbroken, thepossibleharmdonewas slight. Itwas a single ship, nomore than that, just away forme tospiteHaemotalion’sknee-jerkbanandallowthosewhohadfoughtbravelytheright to find their own path to death. If the Sister was right about a comingassault on that ring of worlds then they would be swept aside by it, just asHarsterhadbeen,thoughatleasttheywouldendtheirlivesashehaddone,ontheoffensive.Another concern made itself apparent during those days. Once the terribleshockhadwornoff,whisperedvoicesbegantoberaisedconcerningtheassaultontheLion’sGate.Clearlyithadbeentheworkofsomepowerofnigh-infinitemalevolence,butifsothenitwassomethingofamysterywhyithadfailed.Foralltheterrorithadinspired,thecreatureshadnotgotclosetotheEternityGate,andIfeltthatevenintheabsenceoftheLordGuillimantheywouldneverhavedoneso.Wasitmerelyastatementofintent,then,toshowthatnoworldswerebeyond their reach now? Many began to advance that thesis, taking somecomfort inthefact thatwehadneverthelessenduredit.I, though,continuedtohavenaggingdoubts,asifweweremissingsomethingimportantanddangerous,thoughIcouldnotquiteputmyfingeronit.Imighthavemademoreofbothdoubts,hadtwothingsnothappenedthatonceagainturnedeverythinginsideout.Thefirstwasthegreatdevelopmentthatwehad all been fervently hoping for – the Astronomican’s signal flickered, thenwentoutagain,thenfinallyre-emerged.IheardthenewsfirstfromKerapliades,whovoxedme triumphantly as the first signsof returnbegan to flow into theastropath’schoir-towers.At first Ihardlydared tobelieve it,but theMasteroftheAstronomicanhimselfissuedofficialconfirmationsoonafterwards,sendingthe news via secure channels to his peers on the Council and their senior
advisers.Thefortresslitup,andgreatcolumnsofpent-upenergysnarledarounditsironcrownastheyhaddonebefore.JekandIbothracedtothebalconyofourtowerandlookedupintotheskies,whichwere already beginning to clear. It was impossible not to cry out withreliefandelationatthedissipationofthatoppressivecurtainofbloodyswirling.Never had I been so pleased to see the familiar steel-grey shroud of our oldpoisonsreturntoencloseus,andweembracedandkissedandlaughedlikefools.IneverdiscoveredthecauseoftheAstronomican’sfailure,norunderstoodthemeansbywhichitwaseventuallyrestored.ItmaybethatRaskianhadbeenableto resolve somemechanical problem, either in theThrone itself or themightyconduitsthatlinkedittothefortress,thoughheneverclaimedcreditforitifhehad. The resumption of the beacon may have had something to do withGuilliman’ssojournintheThroneroom,althoughhealsoneverspokeaboutwhathehadseenordoneinthere,atleastwithme,sothatwholeepisodemustremainpure conjecture.Whatever the reason, though, its return gave usmore than ameanstoreconnectwithasunderedgalaxy–itgaveushopeagain.EvenwhenwediscoveredthefullscaleofthedisasterinflicteduponthefarreachesofourImperium,andtrulyunderstoodthenatureofwhatwouldcometobecalledtheCicatrixMaledictum,theveryfactthatwehadproofofHiscontinuedpresenceamonguswasenoughtobanishtheworstofourdespair.In the short term, though, the Astronomican’s recovery only gave us moreproblems.We had already lost scores of astropaths to the effects of theGreatRift, andmanyweakenedsurvivorswerekilledwhen thegreatpsychic torrentburstbackout into theuniverse. Informationon thestateof theImperiumwasstill scantyatbest,and it took timeforus togatheranydataon justwhathadtakenplaceduringourblindness.Themorewediscovered in thoseearlydays,themorewerealisedjusthowbadthingshadbecomeforus.Therewasnohopeof recovering Cadia. Other warzones, such as the great meat grinder ofArmageddon,hadalsopassedfarbeyondourabilitytostabilise.ThesupplyofBlackShips,onwhichtheThrone’screakingmechanismsdepended,hadbeencriticallydisruptedbothbytheturmoilinthewarpandValoris’unilateralco-optionoftheSistersofSilence.Survivalhadbeenachieved,thatwasforsure,butitbegantolookasifwehaddonenothingmuchmorethanthat.Butthen, justdaysafter thoseevents,camethesecondgreat turnoffate.TheLordCommanderreturnedatlastfromthehiddenThrone,readytoresumetheworkofhisgreatcommission.Inyearstocomethatdaywasmarkedwithnearly
as much reverence as the long established Sanguinala, signalling the verybeginning of the IndomitusCrusade and the titanic effort to recoverwhat hadbeen lost.At the time, though,wehad little inklingofanyof that. Indeed, theentireenterprisewasalmostderailedbeforeithadevenbegun.DespitewhathadtakenplaceonLunaIhadnotexpectedtobeapartofanyofit.Onceagain,inadevelopment that perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised by, I was entirelymistaken.
Ihadgonetovisitthemanwhohadstarteditall,Kerapliades,inhiscitadelofdreams.The Master of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica dwelt in one of the strangerdomainswithin thePalace, a haunt ofwarp eddies andpsy-shunts set under agreatdomeofblackglass.Manyofthosewithinthestructurewereblind,aresultofthesoul-bindingthatscarredallastropaths,andmostoftherestweretaintedin some way by the wearing effects of the empyrean. Uniquely among thePalace’s many fortresses, the hundreds of heavily armed guards withinKerapliades’realmwerechieflytheretokeepaneyeonthoseinside,ratherthanout.AsIhurriedtomeettheMaster,Icouldseethetollthathadbeentakenonthisenormousandsecretivekingdom.Mostofthecellswereempty,therewasbloodoneverydeck,andthesoundofrepeatedscreamingcouldbemadeoutcomingfrom the pit-levels below. Those I passed in the narrow, turning corridorsregardedmewiththehostilityofthebesiegedfromunderheavycowls.Kerapliadesmetmeinhiscommandnexus,ablisterofarmourglassandGeller-shieldingplacedhighupon thenorth rimof theScholastiaPsykana’s curvingouterperimeter.Hundredsof scribes,manyhard-plugged intobaroquestationsof wheezing complexity, worked away in near silence, their augmetic fingersclatteringonruneboards.Black-armouredsentinelswithbeast-snarl facemasksprowledacrossgalleriesandbridginggantries,watchingeverymovethescribesmade,foreverpoisedforthefirsttwitchorspasmofpossession.‘Soherewe are again, chancellor,’ theoldman saiddryly.Like all of us, helookedpreternaturallydecrepit,evenmoresothanhehadbefore.Ibowed.‘Youwereright,’Itoldhim.‘AboutCadia.’‘Wegetsignalsfromitnow.’Heshuddered.‘Youdon’twanttoknowwhat’sinthem.’Wewalkedacrossalongcurvingspanthatvaultedoverlinesofscribe-pits.‘Andtheanathemapsykanaareback,’hecroaked,limpingandleaningheavily
onanironcane.‘Theywerepartofmypurview,intheoldtimes.’‘Perhapsyoushouldhavefoughttokeepthem,’Isaid.‘Nodoubt.Thoughwestruggletoholdontowhatwestillhave,andIamnotstupidenoughtopickafightnowwithValoris.’Heshotmeacynicalglance.‘Idon’t really like to see Custodians on the High Council, Tieron, despite thenecessityofit.Theyhavestrangeways.’Youcantalk,Ithought.‘You’vestudiedthedataIsenttoyou?’Iasked.I’d kept my promise. I’d made facsimiles of the information Valerian hadbroughtmeanddistributedittoallthoseIcouldstilltrustontheCouncil.IhadlittlehopeofcountermandingHaemotalion’scordonopenly,but therewasstillthechanceofbuildingacoalitionagainstit,andinanycaseitneededtobeseen.Ifthenextinvasionwascomingviathoseroutesthenwewerewastingprecioustimeinpowerplayswhenweshouldhavebeenracingtoprepare.‘I did, and found it most absorbing,’ Kerapliades answered, leadingme to ahigh curved doorway. Everything in that placewas elliptical and elusive, justlikeitsoccupants.‘Infact,that’swhatIwishedtospeaktoyouabout.’He made a gesture with his bony right hand, and the door swished open.Beyondwas another dome, twentymetres high andwindowless. A great ironorrery clanked andwheeled inside it, driven by concentricmechanical tracks.The interior of the hemisphere glowed with lumen-points and the trails ofhololithprojections.Itwasaplanetarium,ofsorts–amysticalrepresentationofphysicalspace,enhanced,Iguessed,bypsychicaugmentation.Ibarelynoticedanyofthat,though.Waitingforusinthecentreofthatinfernalmachine was Guilliman, alone and dressed in the ancient robes of his office.Even out of armour his aura of command was effortlessly and absurdlydominating,andIfoundmyselfdroppingtoonekneebeforeIwasevenawareofit.‘Chancellor,’ the primarch said in acknowledgement, then nodded atKerapliades.‘TheMastertellsmethisthingoriginatedwithyou.’At first I didn’t realisewhat hemeant, but thennoticedhow theplanetariumhadbeencalibrated.Thehololithiclinesstrungoutbeforeuslookedverysimilarto thoseon the imageAleyahaddiscovered, and I recognised the eight nodessurroundingTerraatthecentre.‘Istilldon’tunderstandit,’Isaid.‘Notreally.’‘Wearenolongerblind,chancellor,’saidtheprimarch.Helookeddifferenttohowhe’dbeenbefore–hisnoblefacewasheavilylinednow,asifrapidageing
hadsomehowtakenplace.WhenIhadfirstencounteredhimhehadlookedlikeaprince,fulloffuriousenergy.Nowhehadthegrizzledaspectofawarrior-king,amonarchweigheddownwithunderstandingthatwasnodoubtdreadful.‘Theseare the eight cardinal nodes of awarp circlet aroundTerra.They describe theonlychannelssafelyusableforsizeablefleetmovementsatthispointintime.’‘And the enemy plans to use them,’ I offered, going on what Aleya hadbelieved.‘Theywillapproachthroughthem,strikeatushere.’Kerapliadesshookhishead.‘It’stoolateforthat,’hesaid,flickingafingerattheswirlingdiagramscirclingoverhead.Onebyone,thenodeswentout,fadingfromredtoblack.Sevenwerelostimmediately.Onlyone,theclosestofthem,remainedfaintlypresent.‘Thoseworldshavealreadybeentaken,seizedfromuswhilewewereblinded.’IturnedtoLordGuilliman,suddenlyanxious.‘Thenwhydotheynotpushon?’Iasked.‘They’resoclose,amerewarpstageaway.They’relookingrightdownatus–whydotheywait?’‘Becauseattackisnottheirintention,’Guillimanreplied.Heturnedawayfromtheorreryandfixedmewiththosefrigidblueeyes,andaseverIfounditalmostimpossibletoreturnthegaze.‘TheyknowIamhere.TheyknowwhatIintend.NowthattheAstronomicanburnsagain,theyknowIwilllaunchthecrusadethatwillliberatethestars.Timeisoftheessencenow,foreveryhourwedelayleadstomoreworldslost,andyettimeispreciselywhatwedonothave.’‘They’retakingthoseworlds,nottouseasstagingpoints,buttoturnintothebars of our cage,’ said Kerapliades. ‘You see what those signals represent?They’vedonesomething there,usedsomedevice to shatter thewarpconduits.Oncetheycontroltheplanetsthey’remakingtheethergodark.’Guilliman lookedbackup at thewheelingpoints of light. ‘Those are not theroutestheyneedtogetin,chancellor,’hesaid.‘Theyaretheroutesweneedtogetout.Theyarethrottlingusbeforewecanevenbegin.’I suddenly understood it. The daemonic attack – it had been to keep ourattentionhere,tomakeusbelievethatTerrawasthetarget,andthattheenemyalreadyhadthepowertoassaultourwallsdirectly.Buttheydidn’t,notyet.TheystillfearedGuilliman,andnowbentalltheireffortsonkeepinghimhemmedin,preventingthecomingcounter-strokethatstillriskedthrowingtheirwiderplansawry.‘Then what can be done?’ I asked, looking from one to the other urgently.‘Whatcanbedone?’‘Oneworldremains,’saidtheprimarch,hisfacegrim.‘Whileitholdsout,we
have a path to the open galaxy.You see it yourself, chancellor. Thatworld isVorlese. When it falls, we are trapped here. The crusade will be criticallydelayed, and a thousand other worlds will fall before we can overcome thebarrier.’‘Thenwemustlaunch!Launcheverything!’Icursedmyselfthenfornotdoingmore–theneedhadbeentherefordays,butaseverwehadbeentooslow,toocautious.‘Itisalreadytoolate,’saidGuilliman,lookingatmecarefully.‘Vorlesecannotholdforlongenough,evenifwelaunchedourshipsthisverymoment.Weknowwhoassailsit,andtherearenodefencestherecapableofresistingthem.Unless,ofcourse,youknowdifferent?’Of course they knew. They knew about the Chelandion. They knew abouteverythingIhaddoneandweremerelywaitingfortheconfession.‘They cannot be enough,’ Imurmured, suddenly realisingwhatValerian hadtravelledinto.‘Theycannotpossiblyhold.’‘Youwouldhaveearneddeathforyouractions,chancellor,weretheLexstillinforce,’saidGuilliman,breakingintothatlongstrideofhisandbeckoningformetofollow.‘Butitisnot,andtheCouncilitselfisnowdissolved.Thereareforcesundermycommandthateventhegodsremainunawareof,andIamanxioustoshowwhattheycando.Wedepartwithinthehour.Ifyoustillholdmyfathertobe divine, you might pray that your Custodians are as proficient as theythemselvesbelieve,fortheyarenowthethreadonwhichourfatehangs.’Everythinghad alreadybeenplanned.Everythingwas already inmotion. If Ihadneeded any further proof of theLordGuilliman’s power, here itwas, andHaemotalionhadbeenrighttofearhisintentions.Thecrusadewasalreadyunderway,andanyattempttofrustrateitwasnowentirelypointless.‘But,lord,whytellmethesethingsatall?’Iasked,scamperingtokeepup.Heneverbrokestride.Idon’tthinkIeverreallysawhimatrestfromthatpointonwards,forhissoulwasasouloffire,voraciousanddynamic,andheknewthepenalty thatwouldbepaid for inaction. Iguessed then thatevenas theLion’sGatewasunderattackhehadbeenplanningthisresponse,thoughIwouldlaterdiscover that he had been formulating the broad strokes of it for very muchlongerthanthat.‘Ourcrusadeshavealwaysrequiredtheservicesofmortals,chancellor,’hesaidbywayofananswer,offeringmeoneofthoseflintyhalf-smiles.‘Iwillneedaremembrancer for this, just like the old days. Consider yourself fortunate – Ichooseyou.’
VALERIAN
Ihadtimetoreflectonmydecisionduringour travelwithin thewarp.Idrovemyself hard, aiming to recover my full spectrum of physical movement andbanish the last evidenceofmy injury,butevenso therewere stillmomentsofunavoidablereflection.Ineverdoubtedmychoice.Thatisthesurprisingthingtome.IneverdoubtedthatIhaddonewhatIneededto.EverythingonTerrapriortotheGreatRifthadbeen pushingme away from proximity to the Throne. I do not justmeanmyfailureatthethreshold,whichwasthemostdramaticmanifestation,butalsotheincreasing distance I had felt from the Sanctum itself, from its laws and itshistoryanditsrituals.Heracleontoldmemynamehadfiguredindreams.Ihadnoreasontodoubtthatnow,butI,andhe,couldhavebeenmistakenaboutwhatitmeant,justasTieronhadsaid.To leavewas a kind ofmadness, perhaps, but the sages of our species havealwaysknownthattruthandmadnessarecloserelations.IneverregrettedwhatIdidthen,eventhoughIremainedcertainthatitwouldbetheendofmymortalexistence.Mybrothersof thechambercamewithmeoutofduty,anddidnotsharemyvision.Igavethemthechoicetoremainonthewalls,buttheywerecontenttotake my command. As Aleya would remind me many times afterwards, ourbreedwere not given to flights of imagination –we required a clear sense ofpurpose,ofrightness,andonlywithinthosestricturesdidweaspiretothestatusof demigods. I no longer think of that limitation as weakness, even though Isuspect she does. We are what we are, the guardians of the flame, not its
kindlers.The journeywasasdifficultas Iexpected.TheAstronomican remaineddark,andourNavigatorsstruggledtomakegoodheadway.Thespanwasshort,suchthat inordinary timeseven the lowliestof theirbreedcouldhavemade it inasinglestage,butwewere forced todrop into real space frequently togainourbearingsandmakecomplex triangulationswithboth thephysical starsand thearcanemapreferenceswestill retained.Idemandedmuchfromthem,justasIdidfrommyself.Oneofthemutantssickenedbadly,andforawhilehislifewasin the balance. Imade himwork. I took no pleasure in that, but the need forprogresswasacute.YoumightaskwhatIexpectedtoachievebythis.ForAleya, theanswerwasobvious–revengeforthewrongsdonetoher.Evenifshedidnotmeettheonesresponsible for the destruction of her home, shewould encounter those of thesameLegion,andthatwasenough.I had no desire for vengeance, though, and never have done. With me, themotivationswerethreefold.IhavealreadyalludedtothesenseofrightnessthatIfeltwhenconsideringthiscourseofaction,knowingthatitformedanargumentinthelongdebateaboutwhereourbestplacewaswithinagalaxyofeternalwar.Second,therewasthedebtofhonourIhadmadetoAleya,whohadnowtakenthisconceptupwithsomeenthusiasm,remindingmeoften,I thinkinjest, thatshehadsavedmylifeandthushadmeunderherobligation.And there was a third consideration. I remembered how I had felt on thatbattlefieldafterthedestructionofthegreaterdaemon,afeatfaroutrankinganyIhad achieved before. I remember how much I had wanted that feeling tocontinue.Icouldnolongerdenyittomyself.Theexerciseofarmshadbecomemorethananintellectualpursuit,oneconductedonlyinthefurtheranceofmysacredduty.Iheardtheoldcomplaintsmadeagainstus,thatwehadneverexperiencedthewarasothershad,andforthefirsttimethebarbsfoundsomepurchase.Forallourvalourinthehiddenconflictswehadalwaysconducted,ithadtakenthedaemonarmy arriving on Terra to remind us what we had once dared to measureourselvesagainst.So the moral imperative was there. The great heretic philosopher of M2EmanuleQanthadsaid thatoneshouldactonlyon thatmaximthatonecouldalsowishtobeauniversallaw,acredoIhadneverfullyunderstoodbefore.NowIbelievedIperceivedthetruthofit,eveninanagewhenalllawswereerodingbeforeour eyesand the full spectrumofmoralityhadbeen subsumed into the
moribundcategoryofduty.Forgive these rambling thoughts. Iwarned you ofmy penchant for theology.The short answer is, of course, that I have no short answer. I only had thedictatesofmysoul,ofwhichIremaincertain.Aleyathinkslittleofsuchspeculation.Youtalktoomuch,shesignedtomeonce.Notsomethinganyonecouldaccuseyouof,Ireplied.
We broke the veil as close aswe dared, knowing that speedwould be of theessence.Ihadmyarmourliftedintoplace,IdonnedmyhelmandtookGnosisintomyfistoncemore.Theweightofitwasanassurance.Mybrothersdidthesame,asdidtheanathemapsykana.Thereweremoreofthemthanus,andtheirweaponrywasmorevaried.Whereaswecarriedguardianspearsonly,theyboreflamers,greatblades,evenchainswords.Alittleoverfortyofus,then,tocontesttheconquestofaworld.Wecouldnotbefaultedforourambition.AstheChelandionacceleratedIstudiedimagesofourinwardattackrunonthebridge-mountedimagebanks.OncepasttheMandevillethreshold,wepoweredswiftly towards the system-centre. For a longwhile, therewas no sign of anyother ship. Thiswas not surprising –with the collapse of theAstronomican’sbeacon,weassumedthatwarptravelhadallbutdriedupacrosstheImperium,leavingourspace-lanesempty.Onlywhenwe camewithin visual range of the planet itself, a sapphire-and-pink orb of considerable beauty, did evidence of the enemy become apparent.Therewasasinglebattleship in loworbit,surroundedbyshoalsof lessercraftandahugecloudoffloatingdebris.Irecognisedtheprofileofthemastervesselimmediately – anExecutor-class grand cruiser, looming in gigantic splendour,though twisted and changed by its time spent in theEye. Its vast flankswereblack,ridgedwithbrass,bearingtheoctedonheavilyoxidisedablativeplating.AnyImperialcrafthadbeenreducedtocomponentsinthatdebriscloud.Asidefromaphalanxofescorts,theremainingvesselslookedtobelandersdescendingontheworldbelowinsteadyprocession.‘Soyouwereright,’ItoldAleya,sittingoppositemeinthelander’screwbay.We had no chance of engaging it directly and surviving. Even alone, anExecutor was virtually a line battleship, built to survive voidwar encountersagainst whole squadrons of destroyers, and the Chelandion was both out-poweredandoutgunned.Wehadexpectedthat,however,andourattackplandid
notalter.‘Signs of heavy assault on-world,’ came the clipped voice of my master ofsensors, an indenturedmenial of our servicewith shaved head and eagle-sigiltabard. ‘Fighting detected across northern continental mass, considerabledestruction,orbitaldefencesinruins.Seventyconflictsitesidentifiedbyaugur,morecomingin.’Theescortshadalreadylockedontous.TheExecutorwasbeginningtoturn,andIwatcheditsforwardlancebegintochurnwithaclotofblood-redenergies.‘Good,’Isaid,studyingtheschematicsoftheongoinginvasion.‘Lessofthemtoencounteronboard.Enactattackrun,asoutlined.Keepusaliveforjustalittlewhile.’Werampedupspeed,andtheplasmadrivesthundered.AcrossshortdistancesIjudgedwe had the advantage – our engineswere farmore advanced than thecolossal power trains employed on those behemoths, even if that edge wouldlikelyonlyprovetemporary.Wetookhitsfromtheescorts–black-hulledclose-attack craft with spiked ventral ridges and close-packed las-fire arrays.Macrocannonbatteriesbegantoflickerasthecruiserwallowedintocloserrange,sendinghailstormsofshellsfizzingpastus.Idepartedthecommanddais.Aleyacamewithme,andwejoinedtheothersona heavyplatform set back from themain arch of the bridge.The deck rockedbeneathusaswewerehitagain,theimpactstressingourforwardvoidshieldingandmakingthereal-viewerscrackle.Weignoredthelessercraft,speedingthroughtheircordonandabsorbingtheirpunishment.TheChelandionpoweredstraighttowardstheExecutor,andsoonIcould begin to make out the detailing across the cruiser’s ancient lines.Everythinghadbeenmangled, tortured, flexed intocolonnadesofgrotesquery.Every gun barrel was a gaping maw, every hull plate was disfigured withhammered-outeyesorclawsorteeth.Theblackmassofitshidewasmottledasthough covered in a patina, the accumulation of centuries plying corrupteddepths. Even its void-movements were sinister, as if crabbed by the laws ofphysicsitsuddenlyandunwillinglyhadtoobey.TheBlackLegion,Aleyasigned.I looked at her.Her facewas already twisted into hatred, an expression onlypart-hiddenbyhermask.‘Wewillbeamongthemsoonenough,’Isaid.Thevolumeoffirepickedup.TheChelandionshuddered,hitagainbyabraceofwell-aimedshots. Isawwarningsflashupon thestatusofourvoidshields.
For the time beingwe had evaded the great lanceweapons, but the Executoritselfnowswelledhugely,fillinguptheforwardaugurlenseslikeacliff-faceofburnishedmetal.Wefiredback.Asingleshot,concentratedonasinglelocation,highuponthecruiser’sbridgelevel.Thetechnologybehindthatbeamwasfarbeyondanythingpossessed by either the enemy or our own regular armies, and a blue-whitecolumn of searing energy pierced straight through the cruiser’s shielding,blowingaraggedholeamidanexplosionofreleasedstatic.Itwasallweneeded.‘Now,’Icommanded.The teleport chamber blazed into cold life, flooding all of us in columns ofspittingwitch-light.Forasplitsecondwewerenowhere,rippedfromtheheartof theengagementandflungintothenetherworldof thewarp.Iheardasoundlikerushingwater,boominginmyears,coveringanundertowthatmighthavebeenscreams.Then the world of the senses crashed back into solidity around us. Werematerialisedwithinthecruiser’sbowels.Thewallswereconcaveandserrated,as ifwewere in some immense black ribcage, and spiked columns soared uptowardsamany-tieredhammer-beamroofhangingwithstalactitesof iron.Themetalwasdank,glisteningwithcondensation,andtheinneratmospherewasashot as a furnace.Sparse red lumensbarely broke through a thickmiasma thatswayedandundulatedwith something like sentience. I could smell a rangeofoverlappingaromas–hotmetal,oldblood,therotten-fruitstenchofprimordialcorruption.Myhelm-cogitatorimmediatelyscannedthroughthedecks,givingmeathree-dimensional schema to navigate by. I could already hear brazen war-hornssounding in thedepths.Thedistant reportof cannon fire continued, indicatingthat theChelandion still lived.With the Emperor’s blessing, it had hopefullynowpulledclearagainandrunforsanctuaryfurtherout,butwehadpassedclosebyonthatinfiltrationrunandtheshiphadnodoubttakenheavydamage.Onereadingonthatschemamadenosensetome.Itwasasifthescansdroppedoff a cliffwhen trying to probe awhole section of the lower hull. Somethinghugewasmasked,cutoutasifphysicallyexcised.Instincttoldmethatwaswhatwehadcomefor,andIgavetheorder.Wemovedout,ourweaponsglitteringinthedarkness,onlytofindtheenemycoming for us. They had reacted with predictable speed, charging down theship’s clanging corridors to engage the boarders in their midst. They were
legionnaires, for the most part, lumbering out of every corridor-mouth in athudding chorusofheavybootfalls,boltersbooming,chainbladesrevving,vox-augmitters roaring. Their black-lacquered armour glinted, a livery that suckedthemeagrelightintoitselfasiffamishedforit.Weswept intoclose-combat,CustodianandanathemapsykanaagainsthereticLegionesAstartes.Myspearhurtled,trailinggoldenpathswithinthemiasma.IsawAleya tearing into them, kicking outwith her armoured boot even as herbladedanced.TheSistershadnodaemonicaura tocontesthere,andsofoughtjust as we did – warriors tempered in the furnace of physical conditioning,immunetofear,fasterandstrongerthanallbutthemightiestofourpeersintheEmperor’sservice.Butthefoeswefacedwerenighasdeadly.Therawestofthemwerehundredsofyearsold,thefirstamongthosewhohadmarchedwiththeWarmasterinthelostage,steeped in thecruel tutelageof theEyeandnowadvancingunder theDespoiler’scolours.Theyhadbeenbloated,changedandravagedbythegiftsoftheirgods,madebothstrongerandwilder,theheraldsofanewageofruin.Thiswastheirplace,andtheycrashedthroughthecloudsofvapourwithaswaggerofassurance.Islammedintothefirstofthem,athick-setchampionwithatuskedandbloateddeath mask, his lenses as red as coals and his armour draped with sheets offlayed hide. He punched his chainblade into me, and Gnosis met the lungehalfway, turning itbackbefore theenergyfieldsexploded insnarlsof flame. Ilashed out with my gauntlet, cracking into his gorget-seal, then switched mybladebacktodriveitunderhisbreastplate.Hewasfastandhewasstrong,butIhadendedmanyofhiskindinhundredsofBloodGames.Iknewthewaytheyfought, I knew their doctrines and their habits, and so I thrust a final time,propellingGnosisupintohislungsandrippingthroughthepowerpackbeyond.Thereactorcells,warpedandcorrodedastheywere,implodednoisily,burninghimfromtheinside.Icasthisspasmingbodyasideandadvancedfurther,fightingmywayoutofthehall and into the warrens beyond. My brothers came with me, as did theanathema psykana. Every step became bloody and laboured. The oncominglegionnaires clogged the narrow corridors, barrelling into us and dogging ourmovements.Ifeltmymusclesburn,myauramiteflexundertheblows,myspearshiverateveryimpact.The Sisters slewwith hatred in their eyes. Their speed and force came fromangernow,justasithaddoneonTerra.Theyweregivingthemselvesnoquarter,
riskingalljustforthechancetohurtthosewhohadhurtthem.Insuchconfinedspacestheywereformidable,almostelemental,abletousetheirlighterframestoraceintogapsandpullawayfromdanger.We were different. We fought as we had always fought – methodically,precisely, falling into the numerology of the near future and racing ahead ofmortalthought.Thesewarriorswereusedtoslaughter,eitherintheEyeagainsttheir ownkindor against themortal defenders ofHis realm, butwehadbeenmade to hunt them. That was perhaps the darkest of the many secrets wecarried – that from the very beginning, from even before the Great Crusadeitself, we had been prepared for this and engineered to surpass them. To thegalaxy at large these warriors were the greatest of His created weapons, theapogeeofHismartialgenius.Weconsideredthemonlyasournaturalprey.SoIlaidthemlow.ItorethroughthemandIrippedthemapart.Icrackedtheirarmour open and I pulled their flesh into ribbons.My brothers did the same,working inperfect silence, eachconsumedwithhisown studyofmurder.Thelegionnaires cursed us in tongues long dead, repeatingmockery that had beenold even at the time of the Siege, but we made no response, and their fellweapons ground up against our shimmering auramite blades in cascades ofthrowndisruptor-light.More were arriving all the time to repel us, coagulating like cells in abloodstream. I guessed that evengreater numberswerebeing summonedbackfromthesurface.Theremightalreadyhavebeenhundredsonthatship,andafteracertainpointthosenumberswouldtell.Butnotyet.Ihadthesignalonmyaugur,anditdrovemeonwards.Deckbydeck,corridorbygore-drenchedcorridor,weburnedourwaytowardsthegoal.Thatwas theonly thing thatexistedforus then.Wewere lost in thatcloyingdark, burrowing even deeper, going so far that soon light itself became amemory. I felt the entire structure close in around me, sensed the malignresonanceof its tonnesand tonnesof corruptedmetalwork, its ancientdevicesanditswarp-infusedchambers,andforabrief,hereticalmomentwasremindedofthatothercatacomb,theonewhereIhadbeenrepelled.But therewasno threshold thatcouldbarmehere. Iwasout, Iwasfree,andnowvengeanceslaveredatmyheels.
ALEYA
IletValerianguideourpathwithinthatship.AllIwishedtodotherewascauseasmuchdamageaspossible.Wetooklossesfromtheverybeginning.Thefirstofournumberfellinthatrib-sparredhall,caughtbyheavybolterfireandsentspinningintothemurk.Evenonce we gained the corridors we were hard hit, for those enemies wererelentless.Theystankofbloodandtheywerebrutallyhardtodown.Ifwehadnothadthe Custodianswithuswewouldhavefaredmuchworse,buteventheyweretestedbywhattheyfought.Itmatteredlittle,forIhadwhatIwishedforinthosemoments.Icouldlookmyfoeintheeyeandtestmybladeagainsthis.Therewerenoduelsofhonourinthat desperate struggle as there might have been in another age, for we onlydesired to inflict hurt.We ganged up on them, swamping them in those tight,claustrophobic corridors before taking them apart in combined enactments ofrevenge. Our relative lack of bulk was even an advantage then, as we couldcrowdinclose,cuttingattheirairwaysandsmashingtheireye-lenses.TheCustodianssetapunishingpace,andsoonweweredelvingdeeper,forginga path down into the engine-levels where heavy machinery thrummed andyammered.The entire shipwas a haunt of semi-fused shedim, locked into themoltenmetalandspittingblasphemiesatusasweran.WhenIcould,Ishatteredthose fixtures, enjoying the shrieks as we cleaved daemon-iron from itsmounting. I had no concern for my own safety, for I knew well enough wewoulddieinthatplace,buteverycorpsewecreatedstillfeltlikeabenediction,anofferingonthealtarofourlongsuffering.IthoughtofmysistersonArraissa
when I killed.With every life I ended, I signed another name, matching thecorpsestothosewhoIstillremembered.Eventuallywe neared the very base of that huge vessel, down in the ballastsumpswhere the airwas thickwith carbon dioxide and the decking throbbedwith enginarium-heat. Our band had dwindled under the constant counter-assault, and even one of Valerian’s chamber had been killed at last, his headsmashed in by a power-fisted brute with a daemon-blade. The rest fought onafterthatwithoutthemerestchangeindemeanour–theirblowsremainedjustasmetronomically perfect, neither faster nor slower, an exactitude of tick-tockslaughter.Itwasonlyaswenearedourdestination,theplacethatValerianhadselectedasthe onewherewewouldmake our stand, that I felt something nag atme – anuminaldrag,likeasuddenflexofhigh-grav,slinkingthroughthemireofsemi-light.Thecorridorsslippedbyinablurredorgyofclose-packedcarnage,andthedragbecamemorepronounced,untilIfeltlikeIwasheadingintosomethingatoncetotallynewandalsohorriblyfamiliar.We finally fought our way into a high chamber with a heavy pair of saw-toothed blast doors on the far side. Valerian dismantled a legionnaire guardsingle-handed, spinning bodily into him before breaking his neck, while wejointlytookcareoftherest.Thenwelaidchargesagainstthedoorway,dozensofthem,andblewitintosprayedfragments.Onthefarside,agreatcylindricalwellgapedaheadofus,acircularshaftthatdisappearedintothebodyofthevesselaboveusandoutthroughthelowerhullbelow.Thevolumeofitwascolossal,overahundredmetresindiameterandfarhigher. When I looked down I could see straight out into the void, and theshining disc of Vorlese’s upper atmosphere glared back at us from behind aglitterofvoidshielding.Electricforcesnakedupanddowntheshaft,catchingonfeedervanesjuttingoutatregularintervals.ForamomentIwasseizedwithapowerfullurchofvertigo,realisingthatwehadracedontoaprecipiceovertheinfinite.I looked up. Something vastwas suspended above us, held tight bymassivechains the diameter ofRhino transports. Itwas truly gigantic, a long shard ofblackstone that ledrightback into theheartof theship, faceted likeacrystal,hummingandyankingagainstitsbonds.AtfirstIdidn’tunderstandwhatitwas,onlythatitwassobigthathalftheentirecruisermusthavebeenhollowedoutinordertocarryit.ThenIsuddenlyknewwhyIfeltthewayIdid.Perhapsnoothermortalwould
haveexperiencedquite thesamesensation, for that thing, that immense rodofdarkstone,wasthesameasIwas.Itwasanull.Ablank.Asinkandadissipaterof psychic force. I was a lone individual, capable of projecting my uniquerepellenceonlyafewmetres–thisthingmusthavehadthepowertodenythewarpoveravastrange.I didn’t fully understandwhat purpose that could serve, but I could begin tomakeaguess.This shiphadcomehalfwayacross thegalaxybearing thisnullcargo,retrofittedpurelyinordertocarryit,racingfaraheadofthegreatarmiesof the Despoiler in order to bring it into position here. From the gap in thecruiser’s hull I could even see the carnage wrought below us on the planet’ssurface–avastscarcutintothepristineterrain,hundredsofsquarekilometresburnedandsecuredinpreparationforwhatwastocome.It would launch. The shard would be hurled down at the world below. Andwhenitdid,thissystemwouldgodark.AlreadyIcouldsenseanenormousbuildupofpoweraroundus,andsawredmarkerlightsracedownthelongshafttotheapertureatthehull’sedge.Thechains!Isigned,frantically,seeingthatthegreatfixingswheretheshacklesmettheinnerwallwouldsoonblow,loosingtheshardtoplungeplanetwards.The concave surface of the shaft was riddled with stairways and accessplatforms, latticing thewalls all theway up.Above uswas the first ofmanyanchor-pointsforthechains,swollenintoahugebulkheadthatjuttedfaroutintotheemptiness.Iraceduptheneareststairwell,arust-thickladderthatwounditswayupwithinametalcage,Revahardonmyheels.Just as I got close to the summit, the first bolter fire ricocheted in, smashingthroughtherottingsteelworkandsmackinghardintothewallsectionsbeyond.More shots rained down, and I glimpsed legionnaires emerging from accesspoints above us, belowus, across the far side of the shaft.Motorised gantriesbegan to creak across the gulf, ready to link the two sides up, andmore kill-squadsclatteredacrossthem,poisedtothrowthemselvesrightintous.Ikeptgoing,slippingandstumbling,myhandsstrugglingtogriptherungsasthebolt-shells rippedpast.Wewerehorriblyexposed,opentorangedfire,andonce the gantries slammed home the enemywould be free to assault directly.There was almost no cover, just the webs of scaffolding and access ladders,whichwoulddolittleagainstfurysuchastheirs.I reachedthebulkhead,hauledmyself throughawideaccessportandheavedup onto its summit, a flat plane of weathered adamantium no more than tenmetres across. Before me stood the chain’s anchorage, a swollen tangle of
rockcretethesizeofaLandRaiderthatpinnedthefirstofthoseenormousgreatlinkstotheinnerwalloftheshaft.Revaemergedbesideme, racingacross to thebulkhead’sperimeter, firingallthetimefromherboltpistol.I tookthelastofmymeltachargesandslammedthem against the mooring’s bolt mechanism even as the warning klaxonssoundedforitsrelease.ThenIwashiton theshoulder, thrown to the flooranddraggedalongby themomentum. Ihadabrief impressionof thewhirlingabyssbelow,andsaw thebright disc ofVorleseblurry at thebottomof the shaft, before a firmgauntletseizedmeandhauledmeback.IfoundmyselfstaringupatValerian’shelmforabrief moment, then he vaulted past, firing bolts from his guardian spear andshieldingmefromfurtherhits.Mymeltachargesblewinsequence,fusingthemassivelinkstotheirhousinginasequentialburstofroaringplasma.Runesflashingoverthearcanemachinerysuddenly flicked to red,and theheavychainwent taut,kickingoutsparksandshaking the entire bulkheadplatform.By then others of us hadmade it to thesame vantage, andwe clustered there together,Custodians and Sisters alike, -firing into the oncoming legionnaires and usingwhat scant coverwe could toshieldourselvesfromthestormofincomingshells.Frombelow, fromwherewehademerged, Iheard theclangof fresh fightingbreakingout–eightofmysistersandtwoofValerian’schamberhadremainedbehindtoholdthedoorway,andnowfoughtbackdesperatelyagainstthechargefromthecorridorsbeyond.Moreprojectilesthuddedintothemetalworkaroundus, detonating in splinter-bursts and punching clouds of powderised rockcretehighintotheair.Icroucheddown,keepingmybladeinonehandwhileIreachedformypistol.Valerian stood beside me then, his heavier armour absorbing hits that wouldhavepulverisedmine.EvenasIopenedfireIcouldhearthemuffledcriesofmysistersastheywerecutdownonebyone,theonlysoundthathadpassedtheirlips since the Vow. I saw a Custodian hammered back by a whole welter ofheavy impacts, his battleplate bludgeoned into bloody craters and his spearshattered.Thechainstillheldtaut.Foraslongasweheldthatbulwark,theshardcouldnot release. I watched the tortured links stretch and spark afresh, strainingagainstthemeltedarmatureandopeningcracksupintherockcrete.Themooringlockedfast.Itwouldneedtobecutlooseatcloserangenowbeforetheycouldcompletethelaunch,andourenemyknewit.
Ipushedmybackintothecharredmassofmeltedironwork,firingsteadilyatthe legionnaireswho trundled to engage us.Wewere sitting targetswherewewere,hemmedinagainstthebulkhead’soutcrop,ourammunitionrunningdownrapidlyandourarmouralreadydinkedandscored.Thereweresomanyofthemnow,pouringoutof everyopening, their red lensesglowingamiddarkhelms,theircursedlanguageechoingagainstthesoaring adamantiumwalls.Thefirstof themreachedtheendof the loominggantriesandleapt inamongus.Valerianmethimwithhisspear,slicinghimalmostcleanintwothenkickinghimovertheedge.Morepiledinafterthat,andIswitchedbacktohaulingmybladetwo-handed.We were dying. There were fewer than twenty of us left by then, clusteredaround that burned-out mooring, our backs to one another and fighting hard.Dozensmore legionnaires crasheddown from the fully extendedgantries, andbeyondthemcamedozensmore–thetidewasnever-ending,astormsurgethatwouldoverwhelmussoonerorlater,nomatterhowmanyofthemweslewfirst.Andthencamethestrangestthingofall.AsIswungmygreatbladetomeetthenext challenge, I heard Valerian chuckling softly. He had already dispatchedanotherlegionnaireandwaswadingstraightintoanother.Ihadneverheardhimlaughbefore.Evenas I lockedbladeswithmyownenemy, I found thewholethingstrikinglysurreal.‘Hold fast, anathema,’ he told me, his spear whirling around him in thosegloriousgoldenparabolas.‘Thisiswhereitends.Letusmakeitastandfortheages.’Hewaselated.Icouldhearthebattle-joyinhisvoice.EverythingIhadthoughtabouthimwaswrong,itturnedout–hewascapableofmovingbeyondhimself,ofescapingthatinfernaltombonTerraandbecomingsomuchmore.Thiswasanewage,Ithoughtthen.Wehadlivedtoseeitdawn,andhadfoughtforitssurvival.Deathinthatcausewasnota tragedy;itwasaprivilege.So I spoke. I did it.What use were vows then? They had never helpedmebefore.‘ByHiswillalone,’Isaidoutloud,fightinghard,relishingmyfinalwordsastheyslippedfrommylips.
TIERON
LetmetellyouwhatmannerofcommandertheImperiumnowhad.The safest course of action, once we had burned through the warp into theVorleseSystem,wouldhavebeen todestroy theenemyfleet instantly.Wehadthegunsforit,andweknewwhatitspurposewas.Asweemergedintoorbitandsaw that ruinous squadron at geostation over the cleared site below I fullyexpectedthelancestobeignited.That’snotwhathedid,though.‘Iftheyliveyet,theydeservemorethanmartyrdom,’hesaid,makingreadytoleadthefirstofmanyboardingpartiesintothegrandcruiser.Andsohewentintocombathimself,aprimarchleadinghisownforceofSpaceMarines, the likeandprofileofwhichIhadneverseenbefore.Ourbattleshipsscattered the enemy escorts and zeroed their mighty cannons onto the mainprize. Once the grand cruiser’s shields were crippled, hundreds of themteleportedintocontact,sweepingthroughthatcorruptoldhulklikeastormwindand scouring it down to the metal. Their orders were to seize the vessel andretrieveanyofourownwhostillsurvivedwithinit.Iunderstoodthenwhysomanywouldfollowthisleader.Youmayhaveheardof his reputation for calculation and cold strategicmastery, but that only tellspartofthestory.Inaninhumaneage,heremindedusofwhatwehadlost.Iwaspermitted to takea shuttleoveronce the enemyshiphadbeen securedand theworst of the fightingwasdone. I neverwish to findmyself in such aplace again – every rivet of it was sickening, resonant with the same latenthorrorthatthedaemonshadbroughttousonTerra.IhadtocovermymouthasI
was escorted down through those dark, humid corridors, choosing not to lookintothemanychambersthatwepassedlestIseesomethingthatwouldturnmymind.Guillimanwantedme tosee thesiteof thefinalbattle formyself.Hewantedmetoseethegreatshaft,andtheremnantsofthatpylonhangingfromitsheavychains, justso itwouldbeclearhowclosewehadcome.Hadthedevicebeendeployed,warp transit through theVorlese nodewould have been impossible,cripplingthecrusadebeforeitcouldhavebegunanddelayingitforyears.Atthatstagewedidnotfullyunderstandhowtheywereabletodoit,andtheshard’s originswould only be discovered later. For aeons, it turned out, theseobjects had been embedded in the soils ofCadia, part of a poorly understoodnetwork that had held theGate open since time immemorial. TheDespoiler’sseizureofthatworldhadfinallydestroyeditsgreatpylons,allowingtheEyetospillatlastfromitsboundariesandinfecthalfthegalaxy.Onlysplintersofthoseoriginal sentinelswere recovered,mere fragmentsof theoccultnexus thathadonceexisted tohemthe tidesback.Theywere takenfromCadia, temperedondark forges,boundby fell sorceries andaugmented inblood-soaked ritesuntiltheiroriginalpowerwastwistedintothatofpureether-destruction.Justonesuchshard was now capable of extinguishing the warp’s touch from an entireplanetarysystem.Andifthatsystemlayatthecentreofawarpconduit,thentheconduitwaslosttoo.Therewasadarkironytothat.Forsolongwehadbenefittedfromtheesotericproperties of the Cadian pylons to keep our enemies restricted. Now, havingburst his bonds, the Despoiler had turned the wreckage of his old cage intoweapons.Of course, back then I knew nothing of that, and assumed we had merelystumbledonsomearcaneinstrumentofunknownprovenance.AsIgazedupthemightywelltowardsthesuspendedsplinterofdarkstone,though,Icouldsensethe wrongness of it, as if it were sucking all life and hope into itself. Iremembered how I had felt when Aleya had first been brought to me, andperceivedtheresemblance.Idonottrulyunderstandthatrepulsion,evennow.Thewarpwasthesourceofso much anguish for us, and yet its absence generated perhaps the greatestabhorrenceofall.Isupposethatisthetragedyofourkind–wearelikemothstothecandle,boundinextricablytothethingthatdestroysus.Iseenosolutiontothatriddle,andwonderoftenifHeevertrulydideither.Perhaps theCustodians knowmore thanwe do. If so, of course, theywould
neverspeakofit.Theyhavechangedinsomeways,butmanythingsremainthesame.
I did not expect to lay eyes on Valerian again. In the event, though, I wassurprised.Helived,asdidtwoothers,includingtheanathemapsykanawhohadcomewithhimtoseeme.ThecaptainofGuilliman’sSpaceMarinestoldmethattheyhadbeendiscoveredstill standing, theirbodies run throughwithwounds,theirarmourshattered,but theywerestill fighting.Bythe timeIarrivedat thesite, perchedhighup inside the curvingwall of that abyss, themedicae teamswerealreadytakingthemaway.Thepilesofbodiesaroundthebulkheadandthesmashed ruins of the rockcrete beyond were testament to their extraordinaryresilience.I could not share any words with him, though – he was unconscious, hisravagedfacehiddenbehindarebreatherandhisbrokenlimbscoveredinmetalstruts. His black cloak had been burned away, leaving him only with hisbattleplateofgold.Eveninthatcomatosestate,Ithoughthowmuchmoreofawarriorthatmadehimlook–lessofahieraticguardianofthePalace,moreliketheAdeptusAstartes.Perhapstheywoulddoawaywiththoseblackrobesnow–Ithinkthey’dearnedtherighttocastthemoff.The Sister of Silence was similarly wounded, as was the one other livingCustodian. They were all borne away reverently, and as they were taken thepower in the cylindrical chamberwas finally drained down, ending the threatthat the shard posed. Their true victory had been more profound than that,however, for it was clear that no others could have hoped to have held thatground for so long under such sustained attack. More eloquently than anyargument in theCouncil, that defiance hadmade the case, and against allmypessimism, the effects of Dissolution came about in the end. In Council theywould call it the Vorlese Precedent, the principle of deploying the CustodianGuardforthoserareactionswheretheiruniquetalentscouldbestbeemployedandwherenootherscouldserve.Theyliketogivethesethingssuchnames.Itmakesthemfeel,Isuppose,thattheystillhavecontrol.Thewiderbattlewasnotyetover,ofcourse.Hardfightinglayaheadtorecovertheplanetbelowandsecureitagainstfurtherassault.Theenemyhadstretchedhimselftothelimittostrikeatussoclose,butwecouldnotbesurethatanotherhostwouldnotcomeontheheelsofthefirst,andsoGuillimanorderedasteadystream of reinforcements to join us over the coming days. Vorlese would bemadeintoafortress,onethroughwhichhundredsofwarshipswouldsoonpass.
Wehadlostonegreatsentinelworld;soonanotherwouldrisetotakeitsplace.I observedwhat I couldof thosepreparations, unsure exactlyof how theoldremembrancershaddonethingsandfeelingfartoooldtobeagoodexampleofthebreed. Inmymind’s eye thegreat chroniclersof thepasthadalwaysbeenyounger, fullofadynamismthat Ihadneverreallypossessed.Bythe timewebroke theveil back toTerra, however, I haddata-slates full ofmaterial, all ofwhichIdiligentlycompiledintomyaccountandplacedinthearchives.This is what you are reading now, of course, supplemented by the oraltestimony of others. I trust that itwill be found useful, even as the IndomitusCrusadeburns itsway through the stars andwar kindles likeneverbefore.Somuchreliesonthis,andoursurvivalasaspeciesstillhangsinthebalance.Idonot truly knowwhetherGuilliman is the saviourmany think him to be, but Iremainuniquelyfortunatetohavemethim,evenforthatbriefestoftimes.In the event, that short excursion was my one and only experience of suchservice. Iwas not strong enough for the rigours of a full-scale campaign, andrespectfullydeclined theofferofasecondpostingasremembrancer.Terrawasandalwayshadbeenmytruehome,forallitsinsanityanddegradation.Morethanthat,though,IrealisedIhadbeendistractedbyallthisfortoolong,lostinmyoldrolesbutwithoutmyoldpowers.Allthingschange,andallthingsfade,and to fightagainst thewaningof that lightwouldhavebeenhubris,notdefiance. The Council of High Lords would remain in place, albeit withsomewhatalteredpersonnelandmuchreducedpower,andsomeoneneededto -massagetheiregosandcorralthemintoline.Notme,youunderstand.Thenewcancellarius,asyouwillnodoubtknow,wasJek, and I could not have thought of anyonemore suited to the task. I flattermyselfshehadhadafirst-classtutelage,thoughIsuspectthatinduecourseshewill leavemefarbehind.Intheinterim,IofferwhatadviceIcan,hopingIdonot overstep my bounds, and am spending more and more time with thecollectionsoffineryinmychambers.Theyallowedmetokeepthatroomasitwas,andIfindtheartefactsacomfort.Imadeittoexhibitthebestofus,andIwouldnotwantsomeofficious scholiastbreakingitupandsendingthevasestothefurnace.I feel age creeping up on me now. I will not undergo yet more rejuvetreatments, for I suspect that this galaxy is becoming something I will notrecognise soon.Darkeryears lie ahead, just as theyalwayshave, and strongersoulswillbeneededtofacethem.ButIwasblessedtowitness thosedays,despite theirhorror. Iwasblessedto
seetheprimarchreturn,andtheAdeptusCustodesriseupfromtheirlongvigiltobringvengeancetothefarreachesofthegalaxy.ForsolongIhaddoubtedmyworth,nevershakingoffthefaintdragofshamethathaddoggedmesincechildhood,but Icould lookbacknowonmypart inthatgreatchangeandfeelsomesatisfaction.Theywouldmakeadifferencenow.Valerianisamongthem,Ibelieve,asisAleya.Somewhereoutinthevoidtheyareslaying,hewithequanimity,shewiththatever-burninganger.Perhapstheyeven serve together. I hope Iwill see themagainbefore the end, though I amreconciledtothefactthatIwillprobablynot.Thingswill unfold as theywill. Experience hasmadememore accepting ofthat.Inolongerentertainthedarkestofthoughts.Ihavelearned,Ithink,totrustalittlemore.Ihavelearnedtoletthingsgo.Mostofall,Inolongerdoubt.
ABOUTTHEAUTHOR
ChrisWraightistheauthoroftheHorusHeresynovelsScarsandThePathofHeaven,thePrimarchsnovelLemanRuss:TheGreatWolf,the
novellasBrotherhoodoftheStormandWolfKing,andtheaudiodramaTheSigillite.ForWarhammer40,000hehaswrittentheInquisitionnovelTheCarrionThroneandtheSpaceWolvesnovelsBloodofAsaheimandStormcaller,aswellastheshortstorycollectionWolvesofFenris.For
SpaceMarineBattles,hehaswrittenthenovelsWrathofIronandWaroftheFang.Additionally,hehasmanyWarhammernovelstohisname,
includingtheTimeofLegendsnovelMasterofDragons,whichformspartoftheWarofVengeanceseries.ChrislivesandworksnearBristol,in
south-westEngland.
AnextractfromTheHorusianWars:Resurrection.
ThedustwindsangasitblewthroughtheranksofsilentTitans.Cablesrattledagainst armourplates, andwarbanners rippledand snapped in the risinggale.Beyondthedustcloudsthelastlightofthesunwasfadingtoanochrebruise.Koleg paused in the shadow of a Battle Titan and looked up. The machinetoweredintothebillowingdust.Vastgunsjuttedfromitsshouldersandhunginplace of arms. A web of chains bound it to the ground. Koleg could see redbeacon lightswinking high on the Titan’s carapace. Thewind gusted and thechainscreakedasthegod-machineflexedagainstitsbindings.Kolegloweredhisgaze.TheshadowsofmoreTitanshungagainst thecurtainsofdust.MachinesfromthreeLegionshadcometothemuster,andnowstoodontheplainsasthestorms rolled in.Beyond the god-machines, taller than any of them, stood theReliquaryTower.Generationsofpilgrimshad raised itswalls,blockbyblock,untilitstoodhigherthanthemountainsthatrosebehindit.Astatueofarobedandhaloedwomancapped the tower’s top, sword reachingup to theshroudedsky.Thefiresburninginthestatue’seyesblinkedasthemurkrippledacrossitsface.‘Haltandidentify!’Koleg turned at the sound of the voice. Ten figures closed on him, spearslevelled over the top of linked tower shields. Lightning crackled around thespeartips.Eyeslitsglowedinclosedhelms.Kolegglancedatthem,ashismask-visordetectedtheactiveweaponsandblinkedtocrimson,outliningeachofthewarriorsinamber.Secutarii,thoughtKoleg,theguardiancompanionsoftheTitanLegions.Henoddedatthem.‘Identify,’ came the voice from the warrior at the centre of the shield-wall.Staticgrowledagainstthewindasaspeakeramplifiedthewords.‘Youhaveten
secondstocomply.’Kolegnoddedagain,andraisedhishand,palmup.Thelightningwreathingthespeartipscrackled.Hetappedtheringonhissecondfinger,andaconeoflightleaptfromhishand.Thestylised‘I’oftheInquisitionrotatedintheblueglow,glittering as its image caught the dust blowing through the projection. Thelightningvanishedfromaroundthespeartipsandtheshieldwallparted.Oneofthewarriorssteppedforward,silverweavecloaksnappinginthegustingair.‘Yourpardon,’saidthesecutarius.‘Youwerenotloggedashavingcrossedthesecuritycordon.’Kolegsnappedoff theprojection.Hestood,handsinthepocketsofhisstormcoat.‘No,’hesaid.Koleg’s eyes twitched up. Shapes were descending through the dust-coveredsky, lights blinking on tails andwing tips. His visor zoomed, picking out thesilhouettesoftheaircraftinglowingamberlines.AboomingroarsplittheairasthechainedTitanssoundedtheirwarhornsingreeting.Kolegfeltthewindshearasthewallofsoundpunchedthroughtherisinggale.Kolegwatchedtheshuttlesandgunshipssweeplowoverhead.Heclenchedhisjawandhisvoxconnectionbuzzedtolifeinhisear.Hepaused,listeningtothepingandclatterasencryptioncyphersactivated.‘ThisisSentinel,’hesaid.‘Thelastpilgrimhasarrived.’‘Wehearyou,’camethereply.‘Joinus.’‘Acknowledged,’ saidKoleg, and the vox-link clicked to silence.Above himthegunshipswerebankingtocircleabovethegroundattheReliquaryTower’sbase.One of the shuttles slid to a halt inmid-air, attitudinal thrusters burningorangetoviolet.Kolegbegantowalktowardsthelandingfield,coatsnappinginthewind.DustlightningcrackedinthegloomabovetheTitans’backs.Arcsofwhitelightrandownthenearestgod-machine.‘You should findcover, sir,’ called the secutarii alpha frombehindhim. ‘Thestorm’scoming.’Kolegkeptwalking.
SecutariiHopliteAlpha-34-Antimonwatched themanwalk into the clouds ofdust.Thesystemsinhishelmcycledandtrackedtheman’sbodyheatforseveralseconds. The man was leaning into the wind, hands in pockets, movementspurposeful but not hurried. He might have been out for a stroll rather thanmoving inside a vermillion-grade security cordon on a planet being used to
muster a crusade-strength force. Alpha-34-Antimon did not like that; it wasagainst thenecessaryorderof things.Theuniverseexisted indivisionsof typeandauthority.Thenamelessmaninthestormcoatshouldhavebeensubjecttothepowerofagreaterperson,andsoon,untilthelineofauthorityreachedtheOmnissiah Incarnate himself. He should not be able to simply walk beneathsacredwarengineswithoutpermissionorcare.HeshouldnothavebeenabletoanswerAlpha-34-Antimon’schallengewithsilence.Hecould, though. Itwashis right.Hewasunder theprotectionofoneof theinquisitorswhoweregathering in theReliquaryTower,and thatmeant thathefellundernootherauthority.TheInquisitionwasthelefthandoftheEmperor,alawutterlyuntoitselfandsubject tono limitorcheckon itsauthority. It stoodapart,anexception to theorderthatboundeverypartoftheImperium.Itsmembers,andbyextensiontheirservants, could dowhat theywanted inwhateverway theywanted. If hewasbeinghonest, that lackofdefinitionand limitbotheredAlpha-34-Antimon.Hehadneverseenaninquisitor,buthecouldnotshedthedistrustthatclungtothethoughtofthem.Inthedistancethemaninthestormcoatwasblurringbehindtheveilofdust.Alpha-34-Antimonturnedaway,andallowedhisemotion-regulationimplantstostripawaythetracesofannoyancefromhisthoughts.<Unitresumepatrolpatternchi-45.>Thebinariccommandclatteredacrossthevox-link, and the rest of the unit shifted into a diamond.He tookhis positionamongstthem,speartilteduptowardsthesky.<Progress,>hesignalled,andtheunitwalkedoutoftheshadowoftheTitan.ThewindbeatagainstAlpha-34-Antimon’sshield.Thepistons inhis leftarmclenchedagainsttheblows.Hewasnotcomfortable.Theconnectiontotheothersecutarii units nearby was fuzzing his nerves. That was unusual. There wereseveralhundredsecutariipatrollingaroundthefeetof theTitans.Thedata-linkbetweenthedispersedunitspassedthroughthegod-machines,andshouldhavebeen good for 21.456 kilometres in these conditions. It wasn’t though; theconnectionwasasgoodasnon-existent.Alpha-34-Antimon felt a sudden surge of isolation batter his emotion-regulators.Ball lightning flashed and rolled across the shoulders of the nearest BattleTitan.Thewindwasstrengthening.Dustwasallaroundthesecutariinow,thickandochre, rattlingagainstarmourplatesandshields.ThesilhouetteofanotherTitan emerged briefly in front of them before sinking behind the ochre veil.
Static popped acrossAlpha-34-Antimon’s sight as his vision enhancers foughtagainsttherushinggloom.Theyhadonemorecircuittomakebeforetheywithdrewtoshelter.Afterthatthe full force of the stormwould break, and nothing except the god-machinesandtheSistersofBattlewouldremainoutside.Hewas forcing himself forward against thewindwhen something flashed infront of him: a brief fizz of brightness, and a shadow.He stopped, eye lenseswhirring as they tried to focus on the rolling haze. The rest of the squad hadhaltedwithhim,andhecouldfeeltheiractionqueriesqueuingattheedgeofthesquaddata-link.<Groundlevelelectro-discharge,>saidthesquad’sbeta.Alpha-34-Antimondidnot reply.The flashcouldhavebeena staticarc fromthedust,but therehadbeen theshadow,andforan instanthehad thought itafigurestandinginthedustveil,likeasmudgeofinkoncloth.Hewaited.Nothingmoved.Aftereighteensecondshe signalled the restof the squadandbegan tomove.Thedata-linktotheothersecutariiinthisareawasstilldown.Ifhecouldnotgetaclearconnectionsoon,hewouldhaveto–<There!>thebinariccrysnappedout.Andthereitwasagain,amassoftinybluearcssnappingaroundadarksmudgein the sand storm. His eyes tried to zoom, but kept sliding off the shape asthoughitwasnotthere.<Diamondformation,>hesignalled,<readyspears,fieldstoactive.>Lightwreathedthetipsofspearsasthesquadslidintoformation.Theirshieldstouched.Theairaroundthemshimmered.Theswirlingdustbuffetedagainsttheedgeofimpedancefields.Alpha-34-Antimonstoodatthetipofthediamond,hisownspearlevelledattheblurofstatic.Hecouldnottellhowfarawayitwas;itseemedtobebothstillandclosingfast.<Anomaly…><Anomaly…><Anomaly…>thesensordatablinked.Hefiredapriorityalertsignalintothedata-link.Itvanishedintonothing.‘Halt and identify!’His voice roared from the speakermounted on his chest.Thewindcaughtthechallengeandspunitaway.<Readydischarge,>he linked to the squad.The energyaround the spear tipsbegantospiral.Asecondspark-wreathedshadowappearednexttothefirst,thenathird,thena
fourth. The rationalmachine part ofAlpha-34-Antimon had time to recognisethehumanoidoutlines runningagainst thewind, and that theywerenot in thedistancebutjustafewpacesaway.<Fire!>hecommanded.Actiniclightwhippedfromthetipsofthespears.Thefigures running from the storm leapt, legs bunching beneath them, strips offrayedclothstreamingbehindthem.Energyburnedthroughthedustcloud,buttheraggedfigureswerenotthere.Alpha-34-Antimonlookedupasafigurecladin tatters leapt through the air above him. He had an instant to catch theimpression of a mask of stitched cloth with torn holes for eyes. Then theattacker’sfeetstruckhiminthechest.Hisarmourcrackedundertheforceofimpact.Hewasfalling,theraggedfiguredescendingwithhim.GearsinAlpha-34-Antimon’slegsscreamedastheytriedtokeephimupright.Hehittheground.Distortionburstacrosshissight.Therag-swathedfigurewasabovehim,acrystalpunch-bladeraisedtostrike.Alpha-34-Antimon twisted and began to rise. The ragged figure dived sideways, rollingand stabbing back at Alpha-34-Antimon as he straightened. The punch-bladetouchedhisimpedancefieldinasprayofsparks.Hebroughthistowershieldup.BinaricscreamsfilledAlpha-34-Antimon’sdatainputs.Systemsandorgansinhistorsowereleakingbloodandoil.Aroundhimthedustwindblurredwiththeshadowsoffiguresstabbing,falling,dying.Hissquadwasdying.Hecouldfeeltheirdatapresencesblinkingoutinhisawareness.<Attack under way, maximum threat alert,> he shouted into the data-link.Silencescreamedbackathim.Thefigurebeforehimpivotedandbackhandeditspunch-blade into the shield.Alpha-34-Antimon stabbed his spear forward, buthisenemywasgone,spinningwideandlashingoutagainandagain.Lightningflared from the tower shield. Alpha-34-Antimon bunched his muscles andpistons and rammed his shield forward as the next blow fell. The figurestaggered, seemed to falter, andAlpha-34-Antimon triggered the charge in hisspear.Helunged.Themasked figure rolled forward as fluid and fast aswater, and the punch-daggercutthroughthearmourofAlpha-34-Antimon’srightarmjustbehindhisspearhand.Allsensationvanished.Silenceheldhim.Theswirlofdustaroundhimrolledback,andherealisedhemusthavefallenbackwardsontotheground.Theochrecloudswererecedingdownadarktunnel.Weakandtreacherousflesh,hethought,andthenthosethoughtswereafadingechofollowinghimdownintooblivion.
It took five minutes for the neurotoxins to finally silence his heart. Thecognitive implants in his skull stopped functioning ten seconds later. By thattimetherestofhissquadlaybesidehim,theirbodiesalreadygatheringshroudsofdust.Theirkillershadpassedon,theirraggedshapesblurringintothewindastheyranbeneaththeshadowsofthechainedTitans.Behindthemthewindfrontsweptinlikethebreathofawrathfulgod.
CleandervonCastellanwatchedthesceneslideacrosstheviewport,andtookagulp of wine from his goblet. ‘Augment view, ship identification and groundatmosphericreadouts.’‘Compliance,’ dronedoneof the servitorswired into themachineswhich ranalongthebackoftheviewingplatform.Cleanderwaited,listeningtothemurmurofgearsturning.Thedust stormsofEromovedacross its face likespiralsofdirtyspunsugar.Clouds trailed from the main mass of each storm, reaching back across thedeserts to themargins of the oceans.Beside the swirls of cloud even the citysprawls and ocean platforms seemed insignificant, small totems of mankind’shubris in the face of nature. Star ships hung above the planet, winking withreflectedlightfromEro’syoung,brightsun.Therewerehundreds,andevenasCleanderwatched, another constellation of vessels rose above the horizon.Atthis distance even the macro haulers were just pinprick glimmers against theblack.Hetookanotherdrink,andlettheheatofthewinespreaddownhisthroat.Thesmelloffirespicefilledhisnose.Itwasnotagoodvintage.Theharmoniesofalcohol, fruit and spicewerepoorlybalanced, and the tastewas as crude as itwas potent. He enjoyed it though, maybe because of its unapologetic lack ofrefinement.Itwassimplywhatitwas.Witheveryyearaddedtohislifehefoundthathelikedthingswhichwerestraightforwardmoreandmore,andalsofoundthattheywereincreasinglydifficulttosource.Thesituationbeyondtheviewportwasoneexampleofsomethingthatwasfarfromsimple.‘Greetingsandliestoallwhohaveeyes,’hesangintohisglass.‘Farewellsandgoodwishestoallwhogivekisses…’Holo-projectors flickered to life beneath the viewport. Luminous green dataspreadacrosstheimageoftheplanetandhighorbit.Thenamesofthewarshipscame first, flashing in rings around the specks of light thatwere each vessel:LordAbsolute,FireChild, Blade of the Light Eternal,Last Son of the Sword,RebukeEternal.Onandonwentthetitles,eachasstruttinglyaggressiveasthe
last.Cleandersnortedtohimself.Therewassomethingcrassabouthavingtoscreamthe nature of such vessels so bluntly, as though kilometres of armour and theabilitytoreducecitiestofusedglasswerenotindicationenoughthatthesewerewarriorqueensofthevoid.Forty-sevenshipsofwarlayinthisportionofEro’sorbitalone.Anotherfifty-twohungoutofsightabovetheplanet’sotherhemisphere,andmorewouldbearrivingfromthesystemedgeoverthecomingdays.Thatwaswithoutthemacrotransports and bulk haulers, which hung beside the warships in shoals.Regiments of soldiers, maniples of Titans, companies of SpaceMarines – allcomingtogethertosavethiscornerofspacefromcataclysm.That,atleast,waswhatmostofthecommandersofthoseforceswouldsay.FromwhereCleandersat,theviewwasratherdifferent.‘Enoughfiretoburnthestarsfromtheirsettings,’hemutteredtohimself.‘Youshouldbeonthebridge,’saidViolafrombehindhim.Hedidnotbothertoturnandlook,eventhoughhehadnotheardherentertheobservationgallery.‘The conclave has not begun,’ he said, and took another sip ofwine. ‘Kolegsignalledthatthelastshuttlewasjusttouchingdown.There’stimeyetbeforeIneedtostandbythehelmandlookcommanding.’Hefrownedashiseyefoundtheedgeofoneofthelargestduststorms.Atmosphericdatascrolledbesidetracearcs highlighting wind currents and trajectories. ‘Magnify feed on theoperationalarea,’hesaid.Anothermurmurofgearsandasquareofhololightformedoverasectionoftheplanet. The image inside the square fizzed to monochrome green and thenmagnified.Acurveofmountainsmarchedaroundawideplateau.Theedgeofthestormwasalreadypouringintothebowlformedbythehighlands,fillingitlikewaterpouringintocuppedhands.Theimagemagnifiedfurther,blinkingintimewiththeclickoftheprojectors.Tinyshapesbegantoformandthengrewinclarity.The Reliquary Tower rose from the centre of the image, its lower bastionsalreadylostbeneaththeleadingedgeofthedustclouds.Titansencircledit,theirvastsizemadesmallbydistance,andblurredby thefoldsofdust.Beyondthemountains, he could see the edge of the tent and prefab cities that theDepartmentoMunitorumhad created for themillionsof troops and stores thathadcometoEro.Thecampsextendedacrossthescrublandsofbothcontinentsand grew in size and population with every turn of the planet. In the drylanguage of theAdministratum it was ‘a PrimaryGradeMustering – subtype
Gamma’, but everyman andwomanwho had answered its call knewwhat ittrulywas:thebirthofacrusade.‘Weshouldlaunchthegunshipsnow,’saidViola.Cleanderglancedoverhisshoulderather.Hissister’sfacewasimpassive,hereyesstillandfixedontheportandholo-projection.Long,ivoryhairhungdownthebackofherreddresscoat.Thesilkof thecravataroundherneckmatchedherwhitehair,andthegoldthreadofherwaistcoatcaughtthelightassheturnedslightly, thestitchedpatternsgleamingbriefly.Shewastwodecadeshis junior,young by the long lives of their dynasty, but her poise and controlmade herseem the seniorwhenever the pair appeared together – at least, thatwaswhatCleanderhadalwaysthought.‘You chose to wear your sword,’ he said nodding at the brass hilt restingbeneathherlefthand.Herfacetwitchedandherlefteyebrieflyflashedchrome.She was watching some other stream of data from one of the ship’s systemsthroughthesubtleaugmetic.‘LaunchingsquadronoutofportlaunchbayJuno,’shesaid.Cleandersawatrioof runes flash at the side of his display as three of theDionysia’s brood ofgunshipsenteredtheorbitalsphere.ViolaglancedbehindhertowhereKynortaswouldbewaitingdutifully in the shadows. ‘Call thehousehold cohorts to fullreadiness,andsetalertconditionthroughouttheship.’Themaster of arms bowed his head andwithdrew, hismovements somehowsilent despite the bulk of his gilded pressure armour. Cleander watched himleave.Eversteady,everloyalKynortasknewbetterthantowaitforCleandertoconfirm the order. Cleander von Castellan was the head of the dynasty, themasterof thisshipandpaymasterofeveryoneof thesouls thatservedonher.Hewastheabsolutelordofthisdomain,butViolawasthepoweraroundwhichthat domain turned. Every line of credit, store-master, informer network andtradecontactwashers.‘So your thought was less of a thought, and more you telling me aboutsomethingyouhadalreadyordered,’hesaid.Her left eye cleared, and she glanced at him. The emotion in her eyes wassomewherebetweencontemptandfrustration.‘Youshouldprepare,’shesaid,andbegantopivotonherheels.‘Thegunshipsneed tokeepabove theatmosphere,’hesaid. ‘Windspeedandparticledensitywillstripthemdowntotheirengineblocksiftheyholdstationinthestorm.’Violapausedandlookedathim,eyebrowarched.‘Andofcourseyouhavealreadyissuedthatorder,’hesaid.
He looked back at the projection and porthole, and rubbed his eyes. ‘This isgetting more complicated by the day, and it’s not yet even begun. There isenoughmateriel here tokill a civilisation, and enoughpower and influence toorderitdone.Andhereweare…Anyoneofthoseshipscouldhammerustogasandslagifitchose.Iamreadingonehundredandfournear-atmospherepatrols.Our credentials havebeendemanded and checked fifteen times since I startedtalking,andyouknowthatifanyoneofthemfailedwewouldfindoutwhatit’sliketobealoneshipfacingabattlefleet.Weareinsectsplayingwiththeangerofgiants.’He tookanother swallowofwine, and smackedhis lips.Viola frowned, eyesflickingtothegobletandthenaway.‘Haven’tyouhadenough?’Cleandersnorted.Shewasrightofcourse.Whattheywereabouttodoneededaclearhead.Notforthefirsttime,hewasgladthatViolawastheretobewhathecouldnotbe.Hewonderedwhat the fateofhis familywouldhavebeen if thetwodecadesthatseparatedthemhadbeenreversed,andshehadbeentheelder.Would he have made the same mistakes without the weight and privilege ofbeingtheheadofthefamily?Hedoubtedit.Thefortuneoftheirforebearswouldhaveremainedtiedtothesolidityofearthandstone.TheDionysiawouldhavewanderedthevoidat thecommandofanothermaster.Hewouldnothaveseenthelightofweepingstars,orheldthewealthofdeadempiresinhishands.Andhewouldnotnowbepreparingtodosomethingveryill-advised.Heswallowedthelastofthewineandstood,shruggingintohisdresscoatasheturnedfromtheview.‘Allright,’hebreathedout,andreacheddowntopickuphisownswordfromwhereitleantagainstthesideofthechair.Heunwoundtheswordbeltfromthescabbard and fastened it aroundhiswaist.He rolled his shoulders, feeling thefamiliar weight of both weapon and coat settle. Reflexively he shifted theeyepatchoverhislefteyesocket,andbegantowalktowardsthedoor.‘Allright,let’sstartthisdance.’Violaraisedaneyebrowandthenfellinathisside.
Thesin-markedwarriorlookedupatthestonefaceofthesaint,andfelttearsshecould not shed come to her eyes. Saint Aspira, Saviour of a Hundred Stars,towered above, arms spread as though in peace and victory, the folds of hercloak falling away from sculpted armourplates in translucent foldsofmarble.Goldenrayshaloedabovethesaint’shead.Eachbladeofmetalhungonhair-thin
wires,sothattheyseemedtofloatlikespearsoffrozensunlight.Thetipofthestatue’sraisedswordalmost touchedtheapexof thegreatdomeabove.Gildedeagles spiralled throughpainted storm clouds on that curved ceiling, lightningclasped in their claws. The saint’s eyes looked down from beneath the raisedblade,unblinkinginastonefaceofperfect,holyserenity.Beneaththatgazethepenitentwarriorknelt,andbowedherhead.Iambroken,Severita thought. Iamastainonexistence. I shouldnotexist. Ishouldnotbehere.Aroundherthespaceextendedawaytomeetthecolumnswhichencircledthestatue-cappedtomb.Bronzecandelabrasrosefromthetiledfloorliketrees,theirbranchesblazingwithflame.Blackprayerpennantshungfromtheedgeof thewalkway which ran around the dome’s base. Slender figures stood on thatwalkway, as unmoving as statues, their crimson armour catching the straythreadsofcandlelight.Severitahadseenthoseredsentinelsassoonasshehadentered,andhadfelttheireyestouchherasshehadcrossedtoofferprayertotheSaint.Shecouldfeelthejudgementoftheireyesasthoughtheirgazeburnedthehessianofher robe from the sleevelessbodyglovebeneath, and sliced throughher brand-scarred skin to open her soul to bleed onto the blackmirror of thefloor.‘SacredMasterofMankind,forgivemypresence,’shewhispered,bowingherhead. ‘Do not withhold punishment from this, your failed servant. Exaltedmistress,whowalkedthepathofswordsandashes,maymydeedswashcleanthestainofmyexistence.Greatsaintswhohaveshowntheway,please–’‘Severita…’Thevoicewassoft,butitsgentleforcewasenoughtopullheroutofherdeepeningpoolofprayer.Sheheldhereyesclosedforasecond,addingthe incomplete litany to the tallyofhersins that loopedwithoutcease throughherthoughts.Shelookedup,andthecowlfellbackfromherheadtoshowthehenna-stained‘X’ thatdividedher face intoquarters. Josef lookeddownather.Hewore theoff-whiterobesofapreacher,thehoodthrownbackfromhisheavyface.Greeneyesglitteredfrombeneathbushyeyebrows.Tuftsofsteelgreyhaircircledhisbare scalp and ran down his cheekbones.Mountain ranges of fat andmuscleshiftedasheraisedahandasthoughincasualgreeting.Helookedmorelikealabourbosspouredintovestmentsthanhedidapriest.‘Thelastofthemisabouttoarrive.WeshouldbewithCovenant,’hesaid,hisvoice a soft rumble.He glanced up at the shrine, then bowed his head. ‘Yourforgivenessforinterruptingyourprayers.’
‘Iwilladdittomychainofpenance,’shesaid,androse,bowingtothestatueofthe saint for a longmoment before shebacked away and turned. Josef gave ashorterbow,butshecouldfeelthefrownonhisface.‘ItisfortheEmperortoburdenus,notourselves,’hesaid.‘IbearnoburdenthatIhavenotearned,’shesaid,coldly.He gave a low snort but did not reply. Severita’s eyes swept the chamber,suddenlyawarethatthestillnessshehadfeltduringherbriefdevotionwasnotreality.Hundredsoffiguresmovedaroundthechamberedge,flowingaroundthepillarsintightgroups.Theseweretheinquisitorsandtheirentourages.Therewasatoweringmaninlayersofblackvelvet,facehiddenbyacheckedexecutioner’shood,bendingtospeaktoapairoftwinsinform-huggingleatherbodygloves.Herewasawomaninbatteredscalearmoursweepingalongattheheadofsixcloakedfigureswhoscuttled on chrome pincers. Beside them were others, some surrounded bythrongs of retainers like courtiers come to the command of their king. Exceptthatnosinglepowerbeneath theGod-Emperorcouldcommand thesemenandwomen. Their powerwas absolute, unchecked by anything except each other,and limitedonlyby theirownchoices.Covenanthadsaid that forty-oneofhispeers had answered the call to conclave, and that this would be the greatestgatheringofinquisitorsintheSegmentumTempestusforacentury.Severitahadonly seen one inquisitor in her life before thismoment, and thatwas themanwhosheservedinpenance.TostandinthepresenceofsomanysoulswhostoodonestepbelowtheGod-Emperorwasalmostoverwhelming.Shewatchedthethrongforamoment,markingthewaytheymoved, thewaythey watched each other in turn. Suspicion and tension danced in the spacesbetween groups, and flickered in their glances. Beyond them, standing incrimson-clad stillness,were theBattleSisters of theBloodyRose.Their faceswere bare, expressions fixed beneath dark hair. Eagle tattoos and the stylisedroseoftheordermarkedtheircheeks.Thatsamerosegleamedinsilverandgoldon the red lacquerof theirarmour.Arcsofoiledmachineryhaloed theirheadsand clamped close over their ears. Tiny purity seals dotted the blunt metal,showingwhereeachoftheskull-lockshadbeencheckedandblessed.TheOrderof the Bloody Rose had agreed to host this conclave of inquisitors, and toguarantee the safety of all those present, but while they watched over thegathering theywouldnotbeallowed tohearwhatwasdiscussed,orknow thesecretsthatwouldbespokenbetweentheservantsoftheHolyOrdos.EveryoneoftheBattleSisterswithintheReliquaryTowerworeskullclampsthatallowed
themtohearonlythevoxsecuritychannels.TodootherwisewouldhavemeanteveryBattleSisterpresentbeingputtothetest,andcleansedbymind-blankingorbolt shell.The Imperiumcouldnotafford towaste suchwarriors.Notnow.Notwiththelightofhellswallowingthestarsintheskyabovethisandhundredsofotherworlds.‘Thismakesyouuncomfortable,’saidJosef.‘Whatistheretotakecomfortfrominwhatwearedoing?’shesaid,turningtolookathiswideface.Hiseyesweresteady.‘I did notmeanwhatwe are here to do.’He jerked his chin at the crimson-armouredBattleSisters.‘Beinghere,thembeinghere…’Sheshookherhead.‘Iamnotoneofthemanymore.Ihavenoillusionsastomyplaceandduty.’‘Ineverdoubtedthat.Ijustthoughtitmusthurt,andthatyoushouldnottaketheweightofthatpainaswellasalltherest.’‘Iamtheworstofsinners,Khoriv.Thereisnolimittomypenance.’Josef raisedhis eyebrow, foldinghishands into thewide sleevesofhis robe.After a long moment he turned and began to walk with heavy steps in thedirectionofthehighdoorssetinthechamber’sfarwall.‘Come,’hesaid.‘Itisabouttobegin.’
ClickheretobuyTheHorusianWars:Resurrection.
ToHannah,withlove.
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FirstpublishedinGreatBritainin2017.ThiseBookeditionpublishedin2017byBlackLibrary,GamesWorkshop
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