Immortals had filed from the bowels of the tomb, rank upon rank recently armed and revivified. They were the Undying's honour guard. In the lowest levels, the very catacombs, the reviled spilled forth. Held aloft on humming repulsor platforms, the destroyers were a blend of necron and something else. Nihilism burned coldly in the depths of their eye sockets. Fused with gauss technologies, boasting cannons not limbs, they were amongst the tomb's deadliest servants.

The Undying felt an instant kinship with them, despite the fact that the house shunned such creatures. Their curse, the slow descent into madness and destructive desire, was a fate shared by all. The destroyers' presence was merely a reminder of that.

Lesser creatures joined the hovering gun platforms in legion, raider constructs and the flickering shadows of tomb wraiths. The latter were an obvious bribe. The Architect was trying to make certain of his position and influence.

That might have amused the Undying once but now, as he gazed out upon the frozen city of the humans, he only craved to vanquish. There was one out in the wastes who had defied him. He had led an attack and slain lords of his royal court. As the killing urge boiled up within him, the Undying vowed he would humble this worm. An arc of emerald fire raced up the war-scythe's blade in empathy of its master's rage, as he willed his forces onwards in the snow and ice.

They marched, their royarch at the forefront, and together their footfalls shook the earth. There were no war cries, no banners held aloft, none of the pomp and ceremony of other armies. The necrons were silent and implacable, their advance unstoppable. Nothing except total annihilation would do. And even then, the Undying's l.u.s.t for carnage would not be sated.

'Let it all burn,' he growled, and in the balefires of his eyes it did.

Ankh surveyed the cold black metal of the necron artillery approvingly.

Rows of pylons, once held in stasis and now dredged from the very earth, stood alongside static gauss siege-cannons. The latter were long, multi-barrelled monstrosities. Their flanks were wrought from the living metal of the necrontyr and pulsed fluidly in the half-light. The former were sickle-shaped turrets that spat death from their gauss-annihilators. A wash of emerald light bathed the ordnance with every discharge of their power. Lances of energy scored the sky, cutting into it with harsh green jags of light. Where the pylons fed continuous beams into the heavens, the siege-cannons throbbed with the drumming staccato of their salvos.

The earth trembled. Far into the distance, the human city was slowly rendered to dust.

Ankh joined another of his n.o.ble brethren, who was watching the barrage from the same icy ridge but with prideful eyes.

'Impressive,' the cryptek conceded.

Tahek, the Voidbringer as he demanded to be known, turned on the other necron lord like a jackal scenting prey. 'It is irresistible, world-slaying,' he snarled.

Black vapours surrounded the Voidbringer, the reason for his name. They roamed and twisted about his metal form, seething through the gaps in his ribcage, spilling over his skeletal fingers and out of the sockets of his aeons-dead eyes.

This was the Night Shroud, a piece of ancient necron technology that had existed since before the long sleep. Not only did it swathe the Voidbringer, it encircled his dominion too. Like some unnatural fog it rolled over the ground and between the artillery emplacements, foiling the efforts of the humans to target them with any certainty. It was not foolproof, some of the weapons had been destroyed in the ordnance exchange, but the Voidbringer's technology kept the damage to a minimum.

Effective as protection, it was when deployed as a weapon of terror that the Night Shroud truly excelled. During the taking of the Thanatos Refinery, Voidbringer had sent the darkness snaking through corridors, seeping into anterooms, infiltrating the hearts and minds of the crude human soldiery. Mortal fears amused him greatly. So primal, so instinctive, the horrors of the dark would ever plague the souls of the fleshed.

Tahek Voidbringer was powerful, Ankh knew this and it was the reason for his visit. He also knew of the Undying's malady. Despite his status, the long sleep had not been kind to him. Tahek was aware of that too and had set his ambitions to becoming royarch.

'The Night Shroud proved extremely useful,' said Ankh, showing his appreciation with a slight bow. 'The humans are trapped inside their stone cage.'

'Did you doubt it?' Voidbringer snapped. A crackle of energy was fed down the haft of his staff but dissipated quickly.

Ankh went on, unperturbed. 'Your shadows blinded them to the machine host until it was too late. Their outer defences are in ruins, their forces driven back.'

'Yeeesss.' A fire burned in Voidbringer's eyes. It was as if he had discovered something in the cryptek's penitent demeanour. 'I know why you are here, Ankh Ankh.'

'To return your gracious favour, my lord.' Ankh bowed lower.

'My lord? Yes, that's right. I am of n.o.ble heritage and you...' Voidbringer's tone expressed his disdain, 'you are little better than a plebeian with certain... gifts gifts.'

'I live to serve the necrontyr,' answered Ankh, carefully politic. Away from the tomb he was vulnerable. Although very unlikely, Tahek could decide to destroy him here and he'd be able to do little to stop him.

'You will serve me,' Voidbringer a.s.serted. 'The Destroyer curse has him, does it not?'

'As lord, I bow to your wisdom. I am merely'

Voidbringer seized Ankh by the chin, clamping his mouth shut and halting his reply.

'This pact we have made is a wise one for you, Ankh Ankh. The Undying is mad. He has succ.u.mbed, hasn't he?'

Ankh did not need to move his jaw to speak but the sound emanating from his vocal emitters was tinny and dull as it resonated through his metallic frame.

'As will we all.'

Voidbringer nodded slowly. 'The tomb is awakening,' he said, 'and other crypteks can be put to the task of weapon-making and revivification. Yours are not the only tomb spyders and scarabs, Ankh.'

There was a pause as Voidbringer allowed the threat to sink in, before Ankh was released.

'Now,' said the lord, holding out a skeletal hand. 'Honour me with what you came here to give.'

Bowing again, Ankh produced a shiny black orb from within the folds of his robes.

As he took it, Voidbringer's emerald eyes flashed with hunger and desire.

'A resurrection orb?'

'The very same,' Ankh replied, taking a humble step backwards.

Waving the cryptek away, his gaze still locked upon the orb, Voidbringer said, 'You may leave. Your favour will not be forgotten.'

A portal opened in reality, a long chamber stretching away from a green doorway of light that led back to the tomb and sanctuary. Ankh was pleased to be going. As he was about to go, the falsehood of Tahek's promise still ringing hollow in his mind, he stopped. He had his back to the n.o.ble but spoke anyway.

'A word of warning before I take my leave.'

'You warn me?' Voidbringer's tone betrayed his anger. The mad dog was straining for the kill.

'The Enfleshed is gone, so too are his cohorts.'

'And? He was a wretch and a ghoul. I am glad to be rid of his presence.'

Ankh turned briefly. 'The genebred ones destroyed him. There is one amongst their ranks who has power.'

Voidbringer scoffed. 'I have felt his presence. He is nothing, less than an insect.'

'He comes for you.'

Now the flames of wrath truly flared along the Voidbringer's staff. He was easy to rile and Ankh amused himself at his impotent rage.

'I fear nothing,' Voidbringer told him. 'I am invincible.'

As he disappeared through the portal, Ankh's gaze lingered on the orb and he whispered, 'Of course you are...'

ACT THREE:.

SACRIFICE.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

Scipio returned to the camp to find Squads Ixion and Strabo already gone.

It fell to Sergeant Vandar of the Victors to relate the news of Captain Sicarius's orders and the redeployment of the a.s.sault squads. He stepped forwards from the defensive ring of cobalt the Ultramarines had made whilst stationed in the valley and approached Tigurius.

The Chief Librarian masked his anger well as he stopped to hear Vandar's report and survey the forces he did have left at his disposal.

'Did our brother-captain mention why he was recalling the a.s.sault squads?' he asked.

To his credit, Vandar kept his eyes up and his answers brief. 'The orders were relayed through Veteran-Sergeant Daceus, my lord, and no he did not.'

'I see.' Tigurias's face was carefully neutral but the air around him visibly crackled.

Just as they had found a way to sabotage and destroy the necron heavy guns bombarding Kellenport, Sicarius had taken away from them their chief a.s.set in that attack. From the encounters he'd survived so far, Scipio knew it would have been tough enough to a.s.sault the Thanatos Hills. Without Ixion and Strabo, the odds of mission success had narrowed considerably. If the necron forces were led by a lord too...

Withdrawal of the a.s.sault squads left three tactical squads, including Brother-Sergeant Octavian's. They carried the honorific Swords of Judgement and were amongst the best marksmen in the Second, possibly the Chapter. Ortus had matched his skill against their best many times. The record sheet was well-balanced. With the Ultramarine's death it would forever be so.

Scipio put such maudlin thoughts from his mind as he greeted his fellow s.p.a.ce Marines. Despite everything, it was good to be back amongst his brothers again.

Tigurius was not done addressing the battle force. 'Fortunate then, that we bring good news.' He gestured to Scipio, inviting him to elaborate. 'Brother-sergeant?'

Several of the battle-brothers, including their sergeants, had been eyeing the humans that had joined them in the camp. For their part, the guerrillas looked wary and afraid. Only Jynn seemed unperturbed by the cobalt giants in their midst. She came forwards.

'I am Captain Evvers, and these are my men... What's left of them, anyway,' she added ruefully. 'We are your salvation.'

Sergeant Vandar was looking down on the woman when he raised his gaze to lock eyes with Scipio. 'Why does this human speak for you, Brother Vorola.n.u.s?'

'She is bold,' added Octavian. It was hard to tell through his battle-helm but he sounded mildly amused at the woman's outburst. 'And what is this "salvation" she boasts of? Are we in need of rescue?'

Scipio shot Jynn a reproachful look, before bringing his attention back to Vandar. 'She does not speak for me,' he said, before addressing Octavian, 'but she does possess some useful information, a route into the mountains behind the necron's defences.'

'Through the defensive circle?' asked Vandar, suddenly interested in the human now. Vandar was known for his tactical brilliance, yet even he could not devise a strategy that would allow the battle force to bypa.s.s the necron defences around the artillery. He wanted to know more.

'We have a way to breach the impenetrable mountain ridge, yes,' said Tigurius, 'but a plan is needed if we're to make the most of this opportunity.' His gaze fell on the three sergeants as he was walking away.

'My lord?' asked Scipio.

Tigurius didn't look back. He was heading towards an isolated promontory of rock. Much like the Librarian's thoughts, it was swathed in snow and ice. 'I must consult the Sea of Souls,' he muttered, his mind already drifting elsewhere. 'The future is uncertain.'

'Brother-Librarian,' Scipio called, risking censure for using such familiar language.

Tigurius turned. His eyes were ablaze with actinic fire.

'Are you sure that is wise, given your last attempts?'

'Experience matters not, Sergeant Vorola.n.u.s,' he replied solemnly. 'Need drives us. I must know know.' A swell of snow spiralled up from the ground and the Librarian disappeared into it.

Scipio regarded his fellow sergeants. 'Vandar, make the most of our reduced forces.'

Vandar nodded. 'I shall bring victory to our cause, brother.'

The three departed to marshal their squads and prepare for imminent departure to the Thanatos Hills. Scipio left Brakkius to organise the Thunderbolts, while he spoke to the humans.

Jynn returned a steely expression as he regarded her.

'Accompanying s.p.a.ce Marines into battle is no small thing,' Scipio told her. 'It is dangerous beyond imagining. For one, you are not equipped as we'

'Look at us,' said Jynn, interrupting.

Scipio stayed his anger as he waited for what she was about to say. He took in the guerrillas. They were a sorry, but war-hardened sight.

'What do you see?' she asked, turning to her troops. When she looked back, there was a proud glint in her eye. 'I see survivors. I see men and women who have lost their homes, their families, everything they have ever known or will know, and have only vengeance to drive them. We are aware of the dangers and we are not s.p.a.ce Marines, it is true, but do not say that we're not equipped for this fight; months sc.r.a.pping for our survival against these b.l.o.o.d.y things in the ice wastes says otherwise. We will fight, and we will die, but don't expect us to slow you down we won't. We know these hills, this land. Dead or alive, I'll get you through that cordon. Promise me one thing: make those soulless b.a.s.t.a.r.ds pay for what they've done.'

Scipio met her fearless eyes and his anger ebbed in the face of Jynn's glorious pride. 'By Guilliman's blood, I swear it,' he said. He held out his ma.s.sive gauntleted hand, and uttered in a quieter voice. 'For I desire revenge too.'

She nodded. Her tiny hand was engulfed by his but the gesture was all-important. A compact had been struck, a swearing of an oath that only death could break. In that moment, Scipio saw the grief in her eyes at her loss, and recognised it instantly.

Karthax, forty-five years after the Black Reach Campaign THE LAST REMNANTS of the cultist army were being driven back from their walls by the guns of Helios's Terminators. Enfilading storm bolter fire cut the wretches to fleshy ribbons, whilst bursts of heavy flamer cleansed any lingering heretics from the roadside bunkers. of the cultist army were being driven back from their walls by the guns of Helios's Terminators. Enfilading storm bolter fire cut the wretches to fleshy ribbons, whilst bursts of heavy flamer cleansed any lingering heretics from the roadside bunkers.

The Fortress of Ardant had once been a bastion to the Imperial faith; now it was an abomination. Filth caked its walls, h.e.l.l ruled its halls. Blood and flesh, not mortar, held its bricks together. The emblems of the aquila, soaring proudly from its minarets and looking on imperiously from its crenellations were defaced. It was rotten with cracked timbers and pitted stone, rusted metal and moth-eaten banners yet it stood. Somehow this festering palace was more resilient than a bunker, in spite of its obvious decay.

With a thundercrack, the incendiary charges placed by Tenth ignited and the gates to the Chaos bastion were blasted open. Severed from the fortress itself they quickly crumbled to dust. From within the gaping maw behind the gates, a swarm of mutated cultists emerged in a frothing frenzy. Other beings came with them, once flesh but now something else, something terrible. They stretched the skin of their hosts, manifesting in the corporeal world as disgusting horrors dredged from man's worst imaginings.

'Warp creatures!' bellowed Helios, a statement of d.a.m.nation as much as a warning. The First unleashed their weapons. The horde withered as a.s.sault cannons and cyclone missile launchers cycled up and let rip. Explosive payloads ruptured the throng, painting b.l.o.o.d.y welts across the smoke-blackened roadway. Half-putrefied cultists, little more than the walking dead, were blasted explosively apart.

Guard units from the Mordian VI, the Stygian Hounds, were ordered into the breach. Armoured formations began the slow grind towards the bastion; Leman Russ to pound, h.e.l.lhounds to burn and purify. In a single day, the Ultramarines had cracked open the enemy resistance, a feat the Imperial Guard couldn't manage after over three months of continuous siege. But it wasn't over yet. The broken gate led into a deeper heart of evil. It had to be excised.

Helios waved on the Ultramarines waiting by the Rhino transports on his right.

'Advance, brothers. In the name of Agemman and the Chapter Master!'

Orad gave the signal to embark. The black-clad Chaplain was last aboard the transport, the access hatch still closing as he stepped inside and the tank drove off at speed.

Nine Ultramarines met him inside, down on one knee with their heads bowed as he entered the troop hold.

Scipio Vorola.n.u.s was amongst them.

Outside the patter of small-arms resonated through the hull. The Chaplain hardly noticed it.