CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

Ankh was connected to all the mechanoids of the tomb. They were his workers, his messengers, his eyes and ears. Truly, he was the Architect. Most creatures of the universe he had come to think of them as simpleton children when compared to the majesty and intellect of the necrontyr beheld the necrons and saw only machines. They were so much more than that. Their science had fundamentally changed their race. It was so advanced that to look upon it would be to perceive what primitive cultures called magic. These humans, a race of barely evolved primates, were one such culture.

To serve the machinations of his lord, he would unleash 'magic' of a terrifying magnitude. He had activated a Doomsday Phalanx of monoliths. Through the multi-faceted eyes of one of his drones, Ankh had witnessed the destruction of one of his pyramidal engines. It had surprised him. Perhaps it was why the Undying wanted so desperately to kill this one. Was the genebred warrior really any different from the rest of his species? Certainly he attired himself more ostentatiously than any of the other armour-clad savages. Immobilising the monolith was also a feat worthy of note, especially done single-handed.

Ankh had moved the others at his overlord's command. The Undying wanted to see annihilation; the talons of the Destroyer curse had made their first incisions into his fragile engrammic sanity. Pre-eminent amongst these weapons of war was the Doomsday Monolith.

'You desire destruction, my lord,' Ankh said to the quietude of the tomb. Through the eyes of his creations he could see the trio of monoliths gliding into position; the nexus of energy between them had almost reached critical ma.s.s. 'Then you shall have it.'

Ankh unleashed his 'magic'.

'Give me more. Break your backs if you have to but bring those things down!' Letzger was hoa.r.s.e from all the shouting. Above the roaring thunder of the guns, he had to bellow to be heard.

His gun crews knew the drill, though. They knew that sweating blood was necessary, and that their lives and the lives of their people depended on it.

Hel-handed boomed again, shaking dust from its foundations and sluicing debris down to the lower levels with every seismic explosion from its barrel. From the Thanatos Hills to the monoliths converging on the meagre defenders in the Courtyard of Xiphos, Letzger had changed targets. So far, his efforts to bring down one of the necron pyramids had been in vain. There was some kind of ethereal veil protecting them all. Shots that weren't lost to the black void coiling around the machineries were otherwise absorbed by the living metal from which the monoliths were constructed. boomed again, shaking dust from its foundations and sluicing debris down to the lower levels with every seismic explosion from its barrel. From the Thanatos Hills to the monoliths converging on the meagre defenders in the Courtyard of Xiphos, Letzger had changed targets. So far, his efforts to bring down one of the necron pyramids had been in vain. There was some kind of ethereal veil protecting them all. Shots that weren't lost to the black void coiling around the machineries were otherwise absorbed by the living metal from which the monoliths were constructed.

The view down the Hel-handed's Hel-handed's crosshairs was not an encouraging one. crosshairs was not an encouraging one.

Letzger seized the vox-horn, 'Leave 'em be and send a sh.e.l.l into the square.' He rattled off a series of measurements, amending the cannon's aim and trajectory. 'And give those metal b.a.s.t.a.r.ds a half-sh.e.l.l. Don't want to crucify our Angels in the blast.'

Slamming the speaker cup down, Letzger was about to get settled on the scopes and watch the show when something bright blazed on the horizon.

Emerald light burned from some unseen source, forcing him to look away. He felt the heat against his skin and smelled his hair smouldering before the beam hit.

'Merciful Emperor,' he breathed as a green fire hit the Hel-handed Hel-handed and a G.o.d-weapon died. and a G.o.d-weapon died.

Adanar felt the explosion before he saw it. He felt it even before the beam hit the Kellenport wall and tore the Hel-handed Hel-handed open. Letzger had been on that platform, the ornery old dog. After the emerald flash faded he simply wasn't there anymore; neither were his gun crews. The weapon was a twisted mess. There was little of it left. Most of the wall and the troops nearby, even those who had hunkered down on the lower level, had also been obliterated. open. Letzger had been on that platform, the ornery old dog. After the emerald flash faded he simply wasn't there anymore; neither were his gun crews. The weapon was a twisted mess. There was little of it left. Most of the wall and the troops nearby, even those who had hunkered down on the lower level, had also been obliterated.

He turned to Humis, who had ducked behind the barricade. Part of the corporal's uniform was on fire, ignited by the heat wave. Adanar was patting it down when he realised his own face was burned raw. It stung to the touch.

'Throne of Earth,' mewled the corporal. 'We are all dead men.'

Adanar was getting to his feet. He'd only realised belatedly that he'd been knocked down must have been from the void shields breaking. 'We were dead men before now,' he said, snarling at the pain in his face. 'Yet here we are.' He pulled his pistol. Something was materialising on the wrecked battlements amidst the fire-blackened debris of the Hel-handed Hel-handed.

Necrons.

The first of the men inside Kellenport died without realising what killed them. Their faces were still etched in terror as they turned to ash.

Adanar loosed off a shot that struck a steel skull in the jaw, making the mechanoid jerk its neck. It didn't stop it from flaying the Ark Guardsmen in front of it.

'Turn and fight!' the commander raged. He was further away than he remembered and his right leg hurt with all the fires of the warp.

Slowly, the troopers below the battlements started to fight back. A sergeant was even shouting for order before a gauss-blast reduced his head to a greasy memory. He toppled, his neck wound cauterised, before someone else took his place.

Humis was running alongside Adanar, dodging the stray emerald beams and vaulting chunks of rubble. The platform wasn't that far; the enemy even less so. 'They must have used a weapon on us,' he said. There was a hollow sound in his breathing, as if he had a punctured lung. Perhaps he had. Humis didn't complain, though. 'It must have been powerful to cut through the shield.'

How were they even functioning? Adanar had no clue. They'd been punched across the battlements, caught in the blast wave he knew that now. Somehow they'd stayed on the wall instead of being pitched to their doom, but they were both hurt. Adanar had no clue. They'd been punched across the battlements, caught in the blast wave he knew that now. Somehow they'd stayed on the wall instead of being pitched to their doom, but they were both hurt.

Following their commander's example, more of the Ark Guard got up from their posts and joined Adanar and Humis. There weren't that many necrons on the wall yet; there was still time to block the attack.

'And now they're phasing in their raiders to finish the job.'

Adanar didn't talk. He a.s.sumed Humis needed to or he'd realise what they were doing and flee, or lose what sc.r.a.p of sanity he had left.

A half-glance below revealed the s.p.a.ce Marines and some of the conscripts were exchanging fire with the mechanoids a.s.saulting the square. The necrons obviously didn't possess the capacity to phase all of their troops onto the walls or they'd already be overrun. Silently, he wished the Angels luck. It seemed an odd thing to have to do. Over the last few hours, the Emperor's avengers had seemed altogether more human than Adanar had ever given them credit for. It was to the good and the bad, he supposed.

He was running past a vox-officer when a gauss-beam jagged out and took the poor swine in the gut. His innards were dissolved to atoms and he slumped with a gurgle. Adanar crouched behind a broken crenellation, taking cover for the first time since the surge towards the gun platform. Hot, green energy flashed overhead as he stooped for the fallen vox-cup. A few seconds later, Humis was right there with him. The man had blood on his collar from where he'd been coughing. Adanar boosted the vox-signal as high as it would go and yelled into the cup.

'This is Commander Adanar Sonne. All forces to the gun platform on the east wall. Repel the enemy at all costs.'

The barrage lessened as more troops joined the effort of dislodging the necron invaders, and Adanar was on his feet again. He patted Humis on the shoulder, indicating they needed to get going, but the corporal didn't move. When he looked back, Adanar saw the pallor of his face and the gla.s.s in his eyes. Humis was dead.

He carried on.

Las-beams were hammering the necrons now, who didn't bother to seek cover or retreat. They merely advanced, implacable as death.

Something was happening up ahead. He thought he recognised a desperate figure fleeing from the mechanoids, taking several squads with him. Adanar's fists clenched when he realised it was Rancourt. The cowardly worm was trying to save his own skin but had opened the trap the Ark Guard had forged around the raiders.

He wanted to shout, to tell them to turn back, but he was too far away and the din of gunfire was too loud. Instead, Adanar carried on. He was racing to his doom, and he knew it. He didn't care. This was the moment he had been waiting for. At last he would know peace. He couldn't just throw his life away, she she wouldn't like that. But this was different. Adanar's sacrifice might save the lives of those Rancourt had endangered. His only regret was he wouldn't get to see the b.a.s.t.a.r.d suffer for it. wouldn't like that. But this was different. Adanar's sacrifice might save the lives of those Rancourt had endangered. His only regret was he wouldn't get to see the b.a.s.t.a.r.d suffer for it.

Just a few more metres and he'd be on them. He nearly tripped on a corpse. The poor wretch had been sliced in two by a necron beam. Though hard to tell, Adanar knew it was Kador and that Rancourt had bolted when his bodyguard was slain.

The locket-charm around his wrist dug into his skin where his arm was blistered by the terrible emerald flash. Adanar tore it free and gripped it in his hand.

I'm coming... The words echoed inside his head, meant for those who had waited long enough already. Leaping the half-flayed wreckage of a gun crew, Adanar made it onto the platform and was ready to meet his end.

The Courtyard of Xiphos had lit up like some infernal flare. Snow and ice melted instantly before evaporating into steam as the beam struck the wall and fire washed over those below.

Some of the men closer to the impact point were flattened. Their uniforms caught alight and there was screaming. Other conscript squads were fleeing; some stayed to help the injured but Iulus waved them on.

'Forward as one, bolter and blade!'

Except these men didn't carry bolters, nor did they wear power amour or possess the strength and skill of a s.p.a.ce Marine. For more times than he needed to count, Iulus was impressed by the fort.i.tude of men. The conscripts took up their weapons and kept up the fight.

The beam that slew the G.o.d-weapon on the wall hadn't come from the Thanatos Hills. That barrage, as potent as it was and still persisting even now, was unable to knock out the void shields. The range was too far. No, the killing blow that ruptured the ma.s.sive cannon's aegis came from the monoliths. The pyramids had fired as a collective, unleashing a beam of such potency that it had overloaded a void shield.

'We will die in this h.e.l.l storm,' shouted Kolpeck beside him. It brought Iulus from his thoughts.

The two sides traded intense fire across the Courtyard of Xiphos. Most of the Imperials had found cover and this mitigated the fact that their armour paled in comparison to that of the necrons. As each force advanced, the carnage only intensified.

Iulus nodded, 'Glory or death,' he cried to the rig-hand turned soldier. 'Embrace it and the Emperor will take you to his side when it is done.'

This was was death. Iulus had a mind for tactical ac.u.men, just like any s.p.a.ce Marine. He knew odds and strategy, and he could recognise a last stand. With the Ordinatus on the wall destroyed, so too went their final chance of survival. A sense of inevitability had crept into the ebb and flow of the fight. Iulus meant to sell his life dearly. death. Iulus had a mind for tactical ac.u.men, just like any s.p.a.ce Marine. He knew odds and strategy, and he could recognise a last stand. With the Ordinatus on the wall destroyed, so too went their final chance of survival. A sense of inevitability had crept into the ebb and flow of the fight. Iulus meant to sell his life dearly.

'Brothers!' he bellowed as the roar of bolters and heavy weapons pummelled the air.

Around him, the last of the Immortals gathered.

Aristaeus gave a nod. Galvia held up a clenched fist. Wherever he looked, Iulus saw his warriors proud and defiant in the face of certain destruction. Since he had been instated the squad's sergeant, they had never lost a battle-brother and had become dubbed the 'Immortals' on that account. It was fitting then that if that honorific was to be broken now they would die as one.

'Immortals to the end!' said Brother Pention and the cry was taken up by them all, the conscripts and Ark Guard too.

A beam took Uklidese in the shoulder and chest. He fell but was dragged up by Illion and Menalus. Venkelius was the next to drop, clutching at his gorget.

Then Aristaeus. Iulus reacted quickly, supporting him under the arm.

'Stand, brother,' he growled. 'We'll meet them on our feet.'

Agnathio was punctured by a dozen beams, the Dreadnought lanced through and spewing fire, smoke and fluids. The venerable warrior ground to a halt and his weapons cycled down to dormancy.

'Ultramar!' Iulus wanted it to be the last word on his lips. He spat it at the necrons, as if his will and vitriol could destroy them in an all-consuming wave. 'Ultramar!'

The Ultramarines took up the call, even those who were injured, even Venkelius who could barely speak at all.

'Ultramar!'

It was an end worthy of note. Iulus found the admission of that strange. He had never considered death before or what it meant. He had always only thought in terms of function and need.

I am a warrior and my function is to kill in the Emperor's name.

He had not believed his legacy was important, save to pa.s.s on to the next Ultramarine who succeeded him; that his deeds and actions really mattered. Faced with the imminence of mortality, he found his opinion changed. Dying well mattered and this was a manner of death that Iulus could be proud of.

'Stand with me, Kolpeck,' he said, using his body to protect the rig-hand, 'and let us die well together.'

'While I have breath, I will,' Kolpeck replied. 'For her, for Jynn.'

Iulus didn't know who this person was but he understood the sentiment. Men were more than just materiel that could wield a gun, throw a grenade or drive a tank. They were flesh and blood, with hearts and minds. And it hadn't been an honoured warrior, a stern-faced veteran consigned to the lectorum or even a Chaplain that had taught the sergeant this. It had merely been a man, a miner at that. The Ultramarine felt humbled and wished it could end differently for Falka Kolpeck.

Abruptly, at no outward or fathomable sign, the necrons stopped. A radiant emerald flash filled the Courtyard of Xiphos again but not from some doomsday weapon, it was translocation. Iulus detected the scent of phasal shift and as he opened his eyes saw that the raiders were gone. All of the necron cohorts had simply vanished.

A reprieve. He felt slightly robbed. The practical side of his character exerted its will over his emotions quickly, though they were alive. Most of the humans, too, had survived. For Agnathio, they mourned. The Dreadnought was a steaming husk of blast-scarred armour. His life had left him.

'Where did they go?' Aristaeus asked the question as dumbstruck Guardsmen gazed around the walls or the square. They lived, but they didn't know how or why. Even the tunnellers had fled, leaving nothing but rubble in their wake.

Iulus looked around too, trying to reason what had just happened.

Snow was forming, laying a fresh patina across the courtyard. Ice already crusted the wall as the bitter cold rea.s.serted itself after the fire storm. Soon the scene would be virginal again, a chilling graveyard where the dead do not sleep.

Why does a force retreat? Either they are on the brink of defeat or they've found a better fight elsewhere.

Clearly it was the latter.

He uttered one word. 'Sicarius.'

Adanar wasn't dead and the revelation weighed upon him like an anvil around his neck. He should be dead. This was supposed to be his moment; this was when he was to be reunited with them. But the Emperor d.a.m.n his capricious will wasn't done with Adanar Sonne, it seemed.

Relief, not despair, washed off the other men on the wall. He could feel it almost palpably, see it in their surprised faces. They hugged each other; some even cheered, though the gesture was only half indulged. Fatigue seized them now that the adrenaline of trying to stay breathing faded. Life for another few minutes at least. Adanar half-expected the necron artillery to release such a blistering barrage from some other uber uber-weapon that it obliterated the entire city and everything in it, but they didn't. The necrons had retreated.

He was about to ask Humis to contact the army's officers for a report when he remembered the corporal was dead. A screeching sound arrested his attention. His despair and confusion turned to anger as he was confronted by Rancourt.

'Blessed Emperor, we are saved!' He was ebullient, but on the point of hysteria. 'Our saviours are victorious.' Rancourt looked at Adanar nonplussed. 'Why aren't you cheering, commander? We have won. d.a.m.nos is saved.'

Adanar slapped him hard across the face with the back of his gloved hand. The blow drew blood from the acting governor's lip.

'Shut up, you idiot. They are not defeated. There is no victory to be had here.'

A group of officers and troopers had gathered around the altercation, drawn by the raised voices.

Now it was Rancourt's turn to be incensed. He touched his chin, but it wasn't just his skin that had been stung by the commander's reprimand. 'How dare you strike a member of the Administratum?' He looked around for an ally in the throng, and pointed at a trooper. 'You,' he said. 'Shoot him, shoot Commander Sonne at once.'

At first the Ark Guard trooper looked shocked and distinctly uncomfortable that he'd been singled out. He held up his hands, wanting no part of it.

Frustrated, Rancourt's attention went to someone else. 'You then,' he bawled. 'Shoot them both. I command you to execute them in the name of the Emperor and the Imperium.'

'No.'

Rancourt was looking around rapidly, his gaze flitting from one soldier to the next. 'You're all in on it.' He spat at Adanar's feet. 'Your personal guard, no doubt.' Pointing a finger that he swept around the onlookers, he added, 'You'll all be shot for this. Disobedience, dissension'

Adanar hit him again and this time put the administrator on the floor. Seizing him by the scruff of the neck, he lifted Rancourt up so he could glare into his eyes. He saw fear in them.

'You are a loathsome worm, Zeph Rancourt,' he declared, 'and your cowardice nearly killed us all. I suspect it may have killed Sergeant Kador, a good man and a good soldier.'

'Kador was a traitor,' spat Rancourt. 'He tried to leave my side.'

Adanar's eyes widened when he saw the b.u.t.t of a pistol sticking out of the administrator's robes. 'What did you do?' he rasped.

'I didn't kill him if that's what you mean. It was a warning shot. I only winged him.' Rancourt saw the change come over Adanar's face and quailed. 'What are you going to do?'

'Did you hit him in the leg, slow him down and lower his guard? Eh? Is that when the beam hit him?' Adanar tightened his grip around the other man's collar.

Rancourt's feet were almost dangling off the ground. 'Let me go, let me go,' he pleaded.

Adanar brought him closer, eye-to-eye. 'Oh, I'll let you go,' he whispered. With a grunt of effort, he lifted the administrator above his head.

'Unhand me!' Rancourt shrieked.

Adanar had him poised at the edge of the battlements. 'As you wish,' he said, and threw him off.

There was a wet crunch as the ex-governor hit the ground. Blood pooled in the snow, turning it crimson. Not one of the men on the wall emitted so much as a gasp, let alone tried to arrest their commander for murdering an Imperial official. But they all turned as the ma.s.sive shadow drew over them.

One of the cobalt giants was walking up the steps and had reached the battlements.

Adanar nodded. 'Sergeant Fennion.'