He belongs to the Accursed Eternity.

V.

This deep into the heart of the ship, lights were flickering; fizzing and popping as though something was racing across the circuit and causing it to fail. As the Star Dragons, once more surrounding the inquisitor, pa.s.sed by, the lights flared momentarily into blinding brilliance, causing the s.p.a.ce Marines to turn their heads away, before they faded once again to a dull and slightly pulsating ebb. The sensors in the helmets of the Star Dragons took several moments to balance the light levels out again.

Evander, still plagued by occasional whispers that suggested many glorious ends to the inquisitor's life, had fallen into a sullen silence; it was palpable, a dark mood that was now seeping through the Star Dragons like a slow poison. Evander's fingers occasionally clenched into a fist and then slowly unclenched again as he battled against the words in his mind.

*You should stay here, brother.'

The voice startled him and he looked up into the skull mask of the Chaplain. Shaking his head, Evander did not speak his reply, but in the cant of his head and the set of his shoulders, his refusal was evident.

*You are not yourself. We can all feel it. You are becoming an increasing danger to the rest of the squad, not to mention yourself. Your faith, brother. Where is your faith? Did you leave it behind in the corridor? If you are going to continue to lead this mission, then you must pull yourself together.' Iakodos struck where he knew the sergeant would hurt the most and was rewarded by the other Adeptus Astartes physically recoiling from him.

*He will bring our doom upon us, Chaplain.' The words were spoken so softly that Iakodos wondered if he had imagined them. He leaned a little closer and tapped his helmet, indicating that the sergeant should switch to a private vox-channel.

*Who will, Evander?'

*Remigius. He leads us to a fate worse than death. We should abort the mission.'

*We cannot do that, brother. We swore an oath to serve the Ordo Malleus...'

*d.a.m.n them!' Evander raised his voice. *I have no idea what we owe them, but we do not owe them the lives of so many good men from two Chapters!'

*We are almost at the enginarium. Whatever waits for us there will soon be brought to an end. The inquisitor has the means and he has the tenacity. As to the reasons why we agreed to take this mission...' The Chaplain's hand closed around his crozius and his skull mask turned towards Remigius. *There are some debts that cannot be ignored. In time, brother-sergeant, you will learn. For now, focus on the mission. The moment he strikes, we will withdraw. On that, you have my word.'

Evander shook his head grimly. *It will be too late by then, Chaplain. Far too late.' He spoke the words with a grim finality and clicked off the vox-channel leaving Iakodos wondering just how prophetic the sergeant's words actually were. The next vox exchange that occurred did little to settle the uncertainty roiling in his gut.

*Evander, this is Ardashir.'

*Report.'

*The enemy are quiescent once again,' replied the Blood Sword. *No more are attacking.' He sounded uncertain that this was actually the case and Iakodos did not blame him. There was so little they understood about this entire situation that it was next to impossible to predict what would happen next.

*Casualties?'

The pause stung and Iakodos dreaded the answer. Already they had lost one of Ardashir's squad. For a Chapter that were already dwindling, further deaths would be a harsh blow.

*One dead, three injured, but nothing that we cannot manage.'

*Hold your position there. Third Scale, begin making your way back to the corridor and head towards the enginarium. We are going to need all the back-up we can muster.'

*Message received. Understood.'

The exchange, grim though its content had been, seemed to have bolstered Evander's resolve and the sergeant's back straightened noticeably. Iakodos laid a hand briefly on his battle-brother's shoulder and nodded once.

The door to the main deck loomed before them and Remigius pushed his way through the warriors to stand before them. He raised his head up and down, then moved to place his hand on the door. He nodded vigorously.

*Yes. This is where we need to be,' said the inquisitor, speaking for the first time in a while. He retrieved the sword from Iakodos and the dormant runes that ran along its length burned ferociously. *The daemon is waiting for us. Let's not disappoint it.'

The door opened easily. There was no need for melta charges or violent ingress of any sort. It simply shuddered and slid slowly apart, old hydraulics and machinery grating as though they had forgotten how to operate. Iakodos and Evander stepped up to take point, shrouding the inquisitor and his sword from view. For once, the inquisitor didn't complain. All his bl.u.s.ter and bravado seemed to be turned inwards. There was no sign of fear on his face, only the kind of distracted expression that suggested he was concentrating hard on the task ahead.

*Move on,' said Evander softly, and as a unit the Star Dragons crossed the threshold of the enginarium. Almost immediately, every bolter and every blade came to bear as movement caught their attention.

Ghostly figures drifted in front of their eyes, colourless things without true shape or form but with the size and build of Adeptus Astartes. They moved as though in a trance, seemingly without direction or purpose. On second, closer study, that was incorrect. There was definitely a purpose to the way they interacted. They stopped, they spoke soundlessly to one another and they continued as though uninterrupted. No markings of any kind could be made out on their largely transparent armour. And there were others, barely visible shapes that were far smaller. Servitors. Humans. They all moved around the busy deck.

Iakodos did not believe in ghosts. They had featured heavily in the tales of his childhood a a distant memory now a but his time in service to the Golden Throne had taught him that spirits and ghosts were not real. Daemons and creatures from the warp, they were tangible things that could be put down with bolter and chainsword or, at the very least, the right words from those trained to deal with them. But ghosts?

And yet here they were, right in front of his eyes. They were translucent, silvery grey and wispy things that moved endlessly around the enginarium. Not one of them took any notice of the Star Dragons and the inquisitor; they seemed intent on their task. All around him, Iakodos could hear the sounds of muttered litanies as his battle-brothers sought to rea.s.sert their faith, which had been shaken to the core so many times already during the course of this mission.

Apart from the spectres, or whatever they were, the enginarium was as deserted and forgotten as the rest of the Accursed Eternity had been. Taking a few steps forwards to the top of a flight of stairs that descended to the main hub, Iakodos raised a gauntlet. It pa.s.sed through the misty form of one of the ghostly Adeptus Astartes. He met no resistance as his hand scythed through. The shape simply shimmered, wavering briefly before reforming and continuing about its business as though nothing had happened.

There was no clear sign of aggression but all those present maintained a close eye on the moving figures and a tight grip on their weapons. As they descended into the central area of the enginarium, it became evident that there were still more of the ghosts, seated at stations. Here a servitor slaved to the communications terminal. There a s.p.a.ce Marine surveying an occulus that showed nothing at all.

*What are they?' Evander's words gave voice to the question that was on every set of lips. Before Iakodos could respond, Remigius spoke.

*Echoes of the past,' he said, and to Iakodos's surprise and consternation there was an audible tremble in his voice. *We are seeing the last living moments of this ship. The Chapter who once called this vessel theirs, before it became the Accursed Eternity...'

*To which Chapter do they belong?' Iakodos looked more closely. There were symbols etched into the instruments but they were old, corroding and faded, and entirely illegible. The Chaplain took a few more paces and leaned forwards in an effort to make out the symbol he saw ingrained in the surface of the cogitator. He could not make it out at all.

*We have never been fully certain,' responded the inquisitor, that same tremor in his tone betraying his fear and anxiety. *We are sure that they were loyal to the Golden Throne, however; that a series of complicated events overtook them, and that ultimately they succ.u.mbed to the warp.'

*Succ.u.mbed? Or perhaps chose to succ.u.mb. Consider that possibility, inquisitor.'

It was a new voice and it was filled with venomous loathing and endless hatred. A voice so sharp it could slice through metal. Its timbre was a sonorous rumble and it was pitched at a peculiar frequency. The inquisitor shook his head as blood began to run slowly from his ears. Iakodos suspected that had he and his men not had their helmets on, they would also be suffering similarly.

Even as he watched, the walls of the enginarium began to buckle and distort, ripples pa.s.sing across their unblemished surfaces as though someone had dropped a rock into a calm lake. Everything shimmered and took on a wavering unreality. The inquisitor, reaching up to wipe the blood from his ears, bellowed through the re-breather mask as loudly as it would allow. Any nervousness was gone, and despite his inherent dislike and distrust of the man, Iakodos found himself deeply impressed by the depth of conviction in the words.

*I am Shadrach Remigius, inquisitor of the Ordo Malleus by the grace of the G.o.d-Emperor, and I demand that you show yourself and meet your end at my hands.'

*In such a rush to die, inquisitor?' There was an insatiable, slavering hunger in the voice. Iakodos could not say how he knew the thing, whatever it was, thirsted for blood, but he sensed it nonetheless.

Remigius continued, seemingly undaunted. *You are an abomination and you are cursed. I am sworn to end your existence and I will do so.'

*I will snuff you out in a heartbeat.' The amus.e.m.e.nt was gone and the daemonic voice had changed pitch. There was now an underlying growl to it that accentuated its hunger. *You have nothing that can defeat me. Soon, the only sounds you will hear will be your own bones crunching in my grasp and the sound of your blood as it drips down to feed my master's unslakable thirst.'

The inquisitor inclined his head, then raised it again, and Iakodos could see the pa.s.sion in his eyes.

*I do have something, creature. I have your name.'

VI.

The pain had stopped long ago but the memory of it still lingered. As Korydon made his way through the ship, he became aware that he was still over-compensating for the pain in his leg, despite his awareness that it was healing even as he moved. He had no other option but to continue. Despite the increasing knowledge that his efforts would get him no further, it was simply not in his nature to give up.

Occasionally, he made a concerted attempt to raise his brothers on the vox but received nothing but static for his efforts. Once, he thought he heard a voice and had answered it gladly, but he had been forced to conclude that his own mind was beginning to play tricks on him. The idea had occurred to him that this entire situation was nothing more than an elaborate hallucination, in which case there was nothing he could do but ride it to its conclusion.

Whatever that conclusion might ultimately be.

He pressed forwards. The enginarium could not be far now; but then he had been thinking that for a while. Hours, perhaps. Or it could only have been minutes. Time ceased to have any meaning when you never seemed to get any further forwards.

His movement seemed slightly impaired now and he tried to coax himself past the memory of his injuries and into a better mental s.p.a.ce. It was then that he noticed the first signs of corrosion on his blue armour.

Pausing in his determined stride, Korydon glanced more closely at one of his thigh plates. Sure enough, there was a hint of degradation there, as though it were old and uncared for. It was something that only happened to a warrior who neglected his armour, or to those who died in battle and whose bodies were never recovered.

But such was the design and solidity of the Adeptus Astartes' wargear such corrosion did not happen for decades, unless it were in an environment in which the process was hastened. He had not been here for decades, so he had to a.s.sume the latter.

*The sooner we get off this ship, brothers,' he muttered to the empty air beside him, *the better.'

Korydon's armour and body were withstanding the effects of his predicament. His mind was not faring so well.

Iakodos had never been in such close proximity to a daemon of this power before. He had faced them on the field of battle but they had always been small and insignificant things, foul and bloodthirsty certainly, but easily defeated with faith and fire. This thing, this mighty horror that was forming in front of him, was anything but insignificant.

The first sign of its manifestation was a strong scent of coppery blood in the air, as though a body had been freshly butchered. Iakodos and the Star Dragons took up positions beside the inquisitor, ready to fire as soon as there was something to actually fire upon.

*Lower your weapons,' said the inquisitor. There was firm resolve in his stance. *They will only stoke the daemon's wrath.'

*We are sworn to protect you,' retorted Evander, and Iakodos noted that the words were spat rather than spoken. It was clear that the sergeant's urge to kill the inquisitor was still strong. *And we will do that,' Evander continued, *for the honour of our Chapter.'

Evander shifted the weight of the bolter in his grip and whether consciously or not, it ended up with the muzzle pointed directly at Remigius. Iakodos stepped forwards and nudged it discreetly away.

*There is a l.u.s.t to kill in you, Adeptus Astartes.' It was the daemon's voice again and it broke the tension of the moment. *I approve of this. My master will approve of you. You may bargain for your life with that bloodl.u.s.t.'

*Show yourself, daemon,' said Remigius. *Show yourself so that we may end this charade.' He casually shook the sword in his hand and Iakodos stared at it. The runes that had been burned into the carefully crafted blade were now glowing with a hateful red light. Eldritch lightning crackled along its edges as it responded to the presence of...

...still nothing. Only the same powerful scent of fresh blood and the images of a body-strewn battlefield it evoked. In his mind's eye, despite the urgency of the situation, Iakodos recalled his last deployment. He remembered with absolute clarity the aftermath; he had walked the ruins where the dead and dying had lain, bringing the words of the Emperor to those beyond the Apothecary's aid. It stirred his ingrained desire to fight. Yet he struggled against it. It would be too easy to fall prey to such a weakness. His judgement would be impaired.

He had little time to linger on it because with a sudden, violent shudder, the Accursed Eternity lurched hard to starboard. They all stumbled and the inquisitor lost his balance completely, tumbling to the ground. The sword fell from his grip and clattered to the floor.

*The blade! Recover the blade!' Remigius's scream cut through the calm resolve he had previously demonstrated.

*Why, certainly.' The daemonic voice was filled with amus.e.m.e.nt.

Iakodos did not know what he had expected from the manifestation of such a daemon, but he had not expected the sudden, raw aura of power that filled the enginarium. He felt an overwhelming urge to turn to those around him, take out his anger on them and smite them where they stood. But Iakodos was a Chaplain. His faith in the Emperor was unshakeable and all of his years of service overrode his basic, primal urges.

*Brothers, control your emotions!' The Chaplain bellowed the order to the few brothers who had not withstood the mental a.s.sault. They were drawing their blades or aiming their bolters, turning the weapons on their own kin.

Appalled at the lack of control that his brothers were demonstrating, Iakodos strode to the closest. He pulled back his clenched fist and struck his brother squarely in the centre of his helmet. *Orestes, stop this. Remember who you are, brother.' He flung the dazed battle-brother towards Evander who still wavered between pointing his bolter at the inquisitor and the swirling ma.s.s of particles that was taking shape before him. *Sergeant, control your squad or I will take over the command of this mission. Get your men into a semblance of order now.'

Not waiting to see whether or not Evander complied, Iakodos strode over and dragged Remigius to his feet. The inquisitor's eyes were transfixed by the coalescing apparition. Iakodos turned his head to look up on the daemon for himself and was staggered by its immense size. What had, mere seconds before, been a swirling ma.s.s of intangibility, was now quite visible.

Twice as tall again as the largest of the Star Dragons, bigger even, perhaps, than one of the Chapter's Dreadnoughts, the daemon burst into full corporeal form as though it had torn its way into reality through nothing more substantial than paper. Its entire body was a uniform shade of blue and almost translucent, rippling as though warp tides ebbed and flowed just beneath the skin. Its lower limbs were heavily muscled and even the tiniest movement was traced in sinew beneath the surface. Its forearms ended in long and strangely delicate fingers that were tipped with lethal-looking claws. Vast wings, presently folded tightly against its back, sprang from its shoulders. Iakodos suspected that if the daemon were to unfurl them, they would be too big for the confines of the enginarium.

His eyes travelling upwards, Iakodos stared at the two heads of the creature. Avian, with a wicked beak, its eyes burned with something he could not relate to. It was not the hatred of a s.p.a.ce Marine for his enemy, but something unfathomably complex.

*Kill it,' the Chaplain said in a hoa.r.s.e voice. *Evander... We must kill it!'

Evander had regained control of his senses and once he had begun issuing orders the rest of the Star Dragons slowly came out of their semi-daze. As a unit, they stepped forwards and opened fire simultaneously. Every bolter sh.e.l.l impacted on the daemon's scaly body, but none of the direct hits seemed to have any effect.

*You humans are pathetic creatures. Always so keen to die,' the daemon said. It stepped forwards, the ground shaking beneath its tread. In a single move it swiped a clawed hand towards the closest s.p.a.ce Marine, impaling him on the end of one of its claws. It turned and flung the unfortunate warrior towards the wall at the far end of the enginarium. Orestes struck the wall with a sickening crack of bone and slumped to the ground, blood surging so quickly from the gouge in his chest that there seemed no way his const.i.tution could hope to withstand it. But there was no time to check if Orestes would live or die. If he lived, he would be useless to them right now. If he was dead then there was nothing that could be done.

Another round of bolter fire sounded as the Star Dragons attempted to vanquish their enemy. Two battle-brothers pressed forwards, their chainswords roaring in hungry antic.i.p.ation. They were cast back, dashed against the wall as easily as Orestes had been as soon as they got within a few metres.

*This is not your fight, sons of the Imperium. But I will never turn down such sport. If you wish to die at my hand, then I will not stop you.'

The daemon leaned down and took up the blade that the inquisitor had wielded. It sparked ferociously in its long fingers, red fire burning down the length of the weapon's blade. Though it growled as the fire curled around its flesh, the daemon seemed otherwise unaffected. There was a stench of burning meat as it raised the sword to eye level and studied the weapon closely. Its burning eyes considered the weapon's design and the runes burned into its steel.

*An amateur attempt at best, mortal,' it said, directing its comments towards the inquisitor. *Pathetic at worst.' Without skipping a beat, without even turning its heads, it flung the sword away and it speared through Evander's torso. The sergeant cried out in pain at the sudden impact and toppled over backwards. He lay still for a few heart-stopping moments before slowly sitting back up with a groan, the sword having been stopped in its path through his body by his now-cracked ceramite plate and heavy power pack. He had sustained a severe injury, but with an Apothecary's attention he would live.

Momentarily abandoning his place at the inquisitor's side, concerned far more with Evander's well being than the squeaky, stuttered rage that came from Remigius, Iakodos helped the sergeant to his feet and pulled the sword from his belly. It freed with a sickening squish, the blade smeared in blood. The Chaplain voxed both the Blood Swords and Third Scale to make all haste to the boarding torpedoes that had brought them to this place.

*This is Sergeant Ardashir. Message received. Understood.'

There was no response from Third Scale. Iakodos voxed them again. The Chaplain felt a sudden surge of anxiety for Korydon's squad. He had been so caught up in the unfolding drama that he had temporarily put the other sergeant's disappearance to the back of his mind.

*Third Scale, report in!'

*Message received. Understood.'

Iakodos's relief gave way to sudden doubt. He had received nothing but that response from Tylissus for some considerable time. There was no time to linger on the concern, however. They would hold this thing off for as long as possible as they made their retreat. Then he would determine Korydon and Third Scale's fate. He felt increasingly certain that it would not be a good one.

The daemon was ma.s.sive, so huge that the walls of the enginarium kept it largely contained, preventing it from moving much further forwards to attack. The s.p.a.ce Marines used this to their advantage, peppering it with more rounds from their bolters and bolt pistols. But the shots were little more than a distraction, nothing seeming capable of penetrating whatever warp trickery protected it.

*You said that the sword would end this daemon, inquisitor.' Iakodos was long past pleasantries and cordiality. He snarled at the desperate-looking Remigius even as he turned to face the daemon, his hands gripped tightly around the haft of his crozius. *That does not look to me like the face of defeat!'

Remigius shook his head, seemingly lost for words. His voice recovered enough to stutter out an explanation. *It was designed to defeat the daemon at the heart of this vessel. It looks...' The inquisitor stared up at the daemon. *Its appearance. Exactly as we had come to understand. It is everything it should be. The sword was perfect. Perfect! The situation is somehow wrong.'

*Well done, inquisitor. It appears that you have caught me out!' The daemon ceased its snarling at the inquisitor's words. With a pop, a sudden inrush of air, the creature decreased dramatically in size. One head folded in upon itself in the most hideous fashion, the other moving in a sickening way to a more central position.

*That shape was a memory,' it said. *A guise that the former a how shall we put this a controller of this vessel wore. It seemed the most appropriate way to greet you.' Its sharp, intelligent eyes fixed on the inquisitor.

*The blade,' moaned Remigius, wringing his hands together in horror. *The blade must have been forged incorrectly. Such a careful process... One error and everything is wrong. This missiona'

*This mission,' said Iakodos furiously, *is killing my battle-brothers. We are withdrawing from this fight.' With Evander down, he had made the decision to take over command of the mission.