WARHAMMER40,000NOVEL

DEUSSANGUINIUS

BloodAngels-02

JamesSwallow

(AnUndeadScanv1.0)

Itisthe41stmillennium.FormorethanahundredcenturiestheEmperorhassatimmobileon

theGoldenThroneofEarth.Heisthemasterofmankindbythewillofthegods,andmasterofamillionworldsbythemightofhisinexhaustiblearmies.HeisarottingcarcasswrithinginvisiblywithpowerfromtheDarkAgeofTechnology.HeistheCarrionLordoftheImperiumforwhomathousandsoulsaresacrificedeveryday.sothathemaynevertrulydie.

Yeteven inhisdeathlessstate, theEmperorcontinueshiseternalvigilance.Mightybattlefleetscrossthedaemon-infestedmiasmaofthewarp,theonlyroutebetweendistantstars,theirwaylitbytheAstronomican.thepsychicmanifestationoftheEmperor’swill.Vastarmiesgivebattle inHisname on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes. the SpaceMarines,bioengineeredsuper-warriors.Theircomradesinarmsarelegion:theImperialGuardandcountlessplanetarydefenceforces,theever-vigilantInquisitionandthetech-priestsoftheAdeptusMechanicustonameonlyafew.Butforalltheirmultitudes,theyarebarelyenoughtoholdofftheever-presentthreatfromaliens,heretics,mutants—andworse.

Tobeamaninsuchtimesistobeoneamongstuntoldbillions.Itistoliveinthecruellestandmostbloodyregimeimaginable.Thesearethetalesofthosetimes.Forgetthepoweroftechnologyandscience,forsomuchhasbeenforgotten,nevertoberelearned.Forgetthepromiseofprogressandunderstanding, for in thegrimdark future there isonlywar.There isnopeaceamongst thestars,onlyaneternityofcarnageandslaughter,andthelaughterofthirstinggods.

CHAPTERONE

In themidst of all themadness, thewarrior foundhimself a small corner of darknesswherehecould shut himself off, a tiny sanctuary of silence. Itwas his shelter, after a fashion, a bolthole inwhichhecouldshutterawaythechurnofdoubtsandfearsandconcentrateinsteadonfindinganswersto the questions that plagued him. The room had once been a basement store for volatiles anddangerouschemicals,anditstillcarriedthetangoffreehydrocarbonsinthethickair,theverystinkofthemembeddedintothedullironwalls.Hepeeredoutofthedoorwaytoensurethathewasnotbeingfollowed,andthenshoulderedshut

theheavyhatch.Itmettheframewithalowbooming,andheclosedthelatches.Thebiolumeintheceilingwascrackedanddull, a thin trickleofgreenishglow-fluid staining thecagearound it.Thechamber ’sonlyreallightsourcewasthegrillenearthetopofthewall,whichpeeredoutatgroundleveltothestreetsbeyond.Nowandthen,thefaintsnap-crackofalas-gundischargepassedthroughthevent,andthewave-likerushofadistantcheeringcrowd.Heremovedtheheavyhessiansackfromthecordacrosshisshoulderanddroppedthebagtothe

floor.Thedelicacyhedisplayedseemedatoddswiththehuge,muscledfigurehepresented.Evenoutof the characteristic power armour of theAdeptusAstartes, thewarriormanifested an impressivesight in his tunic and robes; hewould tower over normalmen evenwhenbarefoot, and theSpaceMarinefilledtheroomwithhispresence.Gentlyandwithreverence,hedrewthesackclothfromtheobjecthehadsopainstakinglyrecoveredfromtherubbleofthestreetchapel.Ithadbeenburiedthere,forgottenbythepeoplewhohadoncepaidfealty to it infavourofanewsubjectofdevotion.Thatthoughtbroughtthebeginningsofaglowertohishard,bluntfeatures,andheforceditaway.ThehessianbagfellawayandinhiscuppedhandstheSpaceMarineheldaniconoftheOneTrue

Master.ItwasarepresentationoftheGod-EmperorofMankind,thereinhisinfinitesagacityatrestatoptheGoldenThroneofTerra.Heranhisfingersovertheold,carewornidol; ithadbeenmadefrombrassoff-cuts,fromafactorythatforgedshellsfortheLemanRusstanksoftheImperialGuard.Heplaced itonanupturnedwoodenboxso that it rested in theshaftof light falling from theventgrille,theraysofthetepidorangesuncastingitwithafainthalo.Hefoldedhisarmsoverhischest,handslikeflatblades,wristscrossed;thefingersandthumbtakingontheshapeofthedouble-headedImperialaquila,oneeyelookingtothepast,theotherstaringintothefuture,unblinking.TheBloodAngelbowedhisheadandsanktohiskneesbeforetheEmperor,thenspreadhisarms

widetoshowhiswrists totheair.Ameshoffaintscarscaught thelightonhisforearms, thesilenttrophiesofahundredbattles.Acrossonelimbtherewastheredinkofatattoo,showingasingledropofbloodframedbytwowings.“InthenameofHolyTerra,”hesaid,hisvoicelow,“inthenameofSanguinius,LordoftheBlood

and theRedAngel,hearme,MasterofMan.Grantmea fractionofyourmostperfect insight andguideme.”Heclosedhiseyes.“Hear thesewords, thecontritionofyourerrantsonRafen,ofBaalSecundus.Ibeseechyou,LordEmperor,hearmeandmyconfession.”

TheinquisitorRamusStelerosetohisfeet,hismeditationatanend,andgatheredhimselftogether.Herubbedahandoverhisbrow,touchingtheaquilaelectooonhisbaldpate,andfrowned.Thecloserhecametowardthefruitionofhisplans,themoreitseemedtofatiguehim.Hesniffedandhisfingers

wanderedtohisnostrils;theycameawaywithatrickleofbloodonthem,andtheinquisitorgrimacedatthedark,purple-blackfluid.Cautiously,hedabbedawaytheliquidwithakerchiefandwatchedthestainspreadacrossthecloth,movinglikeacanceroverthecottonthreads.Steleballedthekerchiefandstuffeditintoaninnerpocketofhisrobes,draggingtheheavycoatof

hisoffice abouthis shoulders.The symbolof theHigh Inquisition, the stylisedcapital “I” inbrassadornedwith awhite gold skull, hung from a chain about his neck, andStele fingered it absently.Thereweretimeswhenitfeltasifthemedallionwasanooseuponhim,weighinghimdown,tyinghimtothepettyworldofmen.Heglancedat theemblem,rubbingawayafaintbloodstainfromitssurface.Soonenough,hewouldberidofit,ridoffallthetrappingsthatboundhimtothecorpse-god.Steletookamomenttolookabouthim,atthewallswheredullbrownhandprintsandsplashesof

oldgorestillmarredthewalls.InthebattleforShenlong,thisplacehadbeenthesiteofoneoftheWord Bearers Chaos Marines’ most brutal atrocities, where civilians had been gutted alive as apenitentsacrificetotheRuinousPowers.WhilemanyofthechambersintheIkarifortresshadbeencleanedandreconsecrated,Stelehadquietlyensuredthatthedeathroomhadremainedasitwas.Here,wherethescreamingsoulsofthebrutaliseddeadhadetchedtheirpainintothestoneandmortar,theinquisitorfoundthemembranebetweentheworldandthewarptobethinner.Restinghere,lettinghispsychedriftfreeofitsorganicshell,Stelecouldtastethefaint,seductive

texture of the empyrean just tantalisingly beyond his reach. It was for him a far more divineexperiencethankneelinginfalsepietytotheEmperorofMan.Stele left thedank roombehindandexited, to findhishonourguardswaitingoutside.Towering

abovehimin theircrimsonsheathsofceramitearmour,boltersatarms, theyseemedless likemenandmorelikeanimatedstatuescutfromredrock.Onlythebrilliantpolishedgoldoftheirhelmetssetthemasidefromtherankandfileof theBloodAngelsSpaceMarines.Stelepaidthemnoheed.Hehadnoideaofwhothesemenwere,theirnames,hopesanddreams,anything;intruth,hecaredlessforthemthanhedidhisautomatonservo-skulls,whichrosefromthefloorongravityimpellersashestrodeaway.Thesilverorbshummedafterhim,watchfulashawks,withtheMarinestwostepsbehind.Atthejunctionofthecorridor,Stele’slexmechanicstoodwaiting,lurch-a-backed.Itsheadbobbed

bywayofagreeting.“Yourmeditationisconcluded?”Theservitorbecamenervousintheconfinesof the roomand it had elected to remain outside for the duration. “Matters present themselves foryourattention.”“Indeed,” he replied. The last traces of the darkmiasma clouding Stele’smind faded away, the

seductivevestigesofthewarp’scaressretreating.Hemissedit.“Your servant Ulan has descended from the Belluswith news,” the lexmechanic continued. “A

concernwhichshewasunwillingtoconfidetome.”Wastherewoundedprideintheservitor ’svoice?Steledoubtedit;hishelot’smentalityhadbeenso

thoroughlyexpungedinitsservicethattherewaslittlevestigeinit thatcouldbeconsideredtobeapersonality.“Shewaitsinthechapelforyourindulgence,inquisitor,”itadded.“Good,IwillattendtoherbeforeI—”Ananxious,wordlessshoutbrokethroughtheairandStelewhirledinsurprise.Hishanddrifted toward thebuttof theelegant lasgun inhisbelt,buthis actionwas slowand leisurelycomparedthewhip-fastmovementsofthehonourguards.TheBloodAngelshadtheirbolterstobearinaninstant,trainingtheirweaponsonatriooffiguresframedinasidecorridor.Attheheadofthegroupwasaman,florid-facedwithwateryeyes.Hisclothes,andthoseofthetwo

womenwithhim,werewornandslightlyunkemptbutinarich,opulentstyle.Steledecidedthattheyweremost likely from Shenlong’smercantile class, dispossessed land-owners still clinging to thecourtlywaysoflifefrombeforetheWordBearersinvasion.“My-mylordinquisitor!”saidtheman,lipstrembling.“Forgiveme,but—”HetookhalfastepclosertoSteleandsuddenlyoneoftheMarineswasthere,blockinghispathlike

acrimsonwall.“Stayback,”gratedtheBloodAngel.ThelexmechanicturnedontheotherMarine.“Howdidtheseciviliansgetinhere?Theselevelsof

theIkarifortressareprohibitedtoallbuttheservantsofArkiotheBlessedandtheGod-Emperor.”ApairofgaspsfledfromthelipsofthetwowomenatthementionofArkio’sname.Themanmade

thesignof theaquilaandbowedhishead.“Please, forgiveme, lords,but itwas indevotion tohisnamethatwedaredtoventurepastthewardsbelow.”Stele raised a quizzical eyebrow and stepped forward, gently pushing theMarine’s bolter away.

“Really?Andwhatdevotiondoyouhavetoshare?”Theman lickedhis lips. “I…We…Hoped to lay eyesupon theBlessedhimself.To ask for his

benediction.”Hewiped a tear from his eye. “All thatwe havewas taken in the invasion.We havenothingnow.”Inwardly,Stele sneered.Thispompousoafwasweepingover the lossofhismoneyandchattels

whileothersonShenlongcouldbarelyfeedthemselves.Theman’swordsdidnothingbutreinforcetheinquisitor ’shatredforthecorruptionoftheImperium,themaggot-riddencarcassofasocietythatservedonlytoglorifytheempoweredandtherich.Stelebetrayednoneofthesethoughtsoutwardly.“ThoseofuswhoshowourdevotiontotheBlessedwillberewarded,”saidtheinquisitor.“Willyoudoso?”A flurry of nods came from themerchant. “Ohyes, yes! For the onewho liberated us, Iwould

gladlygiveallthatIcan,andaskonlyforhisbeneficenceinreturn.”“Youwouldgiveallthatyoucan.”Stelerepeated,allowingthehintofasmiletocrosshislipsashe

studied thewomen.The resemblancebetween themwas clear.Theyoungerof the two,perhapsnomorethansixteensummers,watchedhimwithwideeyes.Shewasattractive,inavirginal,parochialsort ofway.The other, closer to his age, had the docile look of enforced pliancy about her. Steleconsideredthemboth;perhapshecouldgranthimselfadistraction.“Thisisyourwifeanddaughter?”heasked,thequestiontrailingawayintotheair.“Uh…”Themanfumbledataresponseandfoundnone.Stele nodded. “Take them tomy chambers,” he told the honour guard, and theMarine obeyed,

usheringthewomenawayundertheeyeofabolter.“I’llcalluponthematmyleisure.”Theinquisitorthrewthemananod.“Yourdevotionisgreat.TheBlessedhasaworthyservantinyou.”Ashecontinuedonhiswaytothechapel,Steleheardthemanmumbleoutragged,brokenwordsof

thanks.

RapenhadnotdaredtoenteranyofthetabernaclesinsidetheIkarifortress,alltooawareofwhathewouldseeinside.TroopsofShenlongihadtakenhammersandchiselstotheintricatemosaicsandthefriezesthattheChaosinvasionforcehadn’talreadydestroyed,andpulledthemup.Theenemywasgonenow,routedandkilled,butthepeopletheyhadbrieflysubjugatedcompletedthedeconsecrationstheWord Bearers had begun. Only the object of their veneration differed. In place of sanctionedImperial idolatrytheyhaddaubedcruderenditionsof theBloodAngelssigilandthenewly-creatediconof theirBlessedArkio, the goldenhalo crossedby a shining spear.The sight of it burned inRafen’sheart likea torch,buthecouldnotdare tospeakopenlyof thedoubts that thunderedabouthim,muchlessevenconsidergivingaconfessioninsuchaplace.Therewasnodoubtinhismindthatany words he spoke would be spirited away to the ears of High Priest Sachiel, and to have himlisteningtoRafen’sheartfeltthoughtswouldbeagravemistake.NeithercouldRafenvisitoneof thechurches that thecommonersandcitizensused,downin the

city-sprawlscrammedintothegapsbetweenShenlong’skilometres-highfactorycathedrals.Thesightof aSpaceMarine, evenonewithouthishallowedarmour,wouldneverpassunnoticedamong thepopulace—andjustasthepeoplehadtakenArkiototheirheartsinthefortress,sothemantheycalled

theNewBloodLordhadalsosupplantedtheEmperorinchapelsallacrosstheforge-world.Sohere,inadimandill-litchamber,inastreetruinedbyshellfireandabandonedbylife,Rafen

hadcreatedhisownplaceofworship,somesmallandsafeconduittohismessiahwherenopryingearswouldspyuponhisprayers.“Imustconfess,”hetoldthebrassidoloftheGod-Emperor,“Iwasforcedtoforsakemyoathto

the liege lordofmyChapter, to turn fromSanguinius tomysibling…theman theycallArkio theBlessed.”Rafenbitbackthetremorsinhisvoice.“Iknownotwhatmybrotherhasbecome,butonlythatmyheartcannotacceptwhatSachielandSteleclaimtobeself-evident.IcannotaccedethatArkioisSanguiniusReborn, andyetknowing this I tookanoathof fealty tohim.”Heshookhishead inanswer toanunspokenquestion.“This isnotcowardiceonmypart, I swear.TheSanguinaryHighPriestSachielwouldsurelyhaveexecutedmehadInotkneltbeforeArkio,butwithmydeaththerewouldbenovoicetospeakoutagainstthisinsanity.Forgiveme,lord,forthisduplicity.”Rafen drew a shuddering breath. “Grantme insight,” he said, entreaty in his voice, “showme a

path.Iaskofyou,whatdoyouwishofme?OnCybele,againsttheassaultsofthefoulWordBearersIwasreadytogivemylifeandcometoyourrighthandattheThrone,butinyourwisdomthewarshipBelluscametoouraidandwithitmyyoungbrother.IthoughtIwasblessedtoseemysiblingaftersolongapart…Ourtiesofbloodareasstrongasthefellowshipofmybattle-brothers.”TheBloodAngelrecalledtheinstantonthewargraveworldwhenArkioroseintheirmomentof

blackestdespair,withaplan to turn thefightagainst theTraitorMarines;Arkio’suncannyflashofbrillianceledthemtobringdownaWordBearerswarshipandbeatbacktheCorruptedfromCybele.Atfirst,itseemednomorethanachanceinsightfromRafen’ssibling,butthentheyoungMarinehadsingle-handedly saved Sachiel’s life from a daemon creature, rallied the men and become thefigureheadwhichturnedthetideagainsttheChaosforces.BythetimetheyhadleftCybeleaboardtheBellus, thereweremenwonderingaloud ifArkiowasnot touchedbySanguiniushimself,and thencamethemomentwhentheSpearofTelestoseemedtoprovethetruthbehindthewhisperedrumours.

Stele left his guard at the tall copper doors to the chapel and strode inside, the lexmechanic’sclawed iron feet clattering after him.The astropathUlan stood in the centre of the chamber, armsfolded.Hersightlesseyesglancedupfromthehoodofherdarkrobesandshegaveahalf-bow.“Mylordinquisitor,”shebegan,herquiettonesawhisperofwindthroughgravestones.Heapproachedher,foronebriefmomentlettinghisgazestraytothetitaniumcanisterthatlayatop

the altar. The thought of the coiled power inside the long containermade him thirst in away thatnothing else could slake.With a near physical effort, Stele turned his whole attention to the thinpsykergirl.“Speaktome.”Ulanglancedatthelexmechanic,andStelenodded,turning.“Servitor,waitoutside.”Themachine-slave turned on its heel and left them to their privacy.As the chapel door thudded

shut, Ulan began to talk. “Matters aboard the Bellus proceed, Lord Stele,” she said carefully.“Questions as to the fate of the astropathHorin and his chorus have been suppressed.There is nootherconduittothegalaxyatlargenow,saveme.”Stelemade a dismissive gesture. “You came to tellme thatwhich I already know?”Without his

notice, the inquisitor ’s triggerfinger twitched,unconsciouslyrepeating theaction ithadperformedwhenSteleexecutedtheBellus’scadreoftelepaths.“Iinstalledyouaboardthebattlebargetobemyeyesandears.”“Andso Iam,”she replied.“Ihavenews.Thewarning thatwassent fromShenlong toBaal, the

messagetotheBloodAngelsCommanderDante…Ithasbeenheeded.”“Dantehasreplied?”Sheshookherhead.“ThemasterofthemonasteryonBaalfavoursamoredirectapproach,Lord.

Ashipisonitsway.Ihaveinterceptedtheshadowsofsignalsfromthedepthsoftheimmaterium.Itwillarrivesoon.”Steleacceptedthiswithanod.“Doyouknowwhatkindofvessel?Somethingmorepowerfulthan

theBellus?”“Unlikely,” she noted. “There is but oneBloodAngels shipmatching the tonnage of theBellus

within operational range of Shenlong, and that is the Europae, the Lord Mephiston’s personalcommand.”“Dante would not send his lieutenant Mephiston without good cause.” Stele spoke his thoughts

aloud.“Notyet,atanyrate.No,itwillbeasmallercraft.”“TheadventofanyAdeptusAstartesreinforcementswilljeopardisethestrategy.”Ulansaidflatly.

“They will be outside our sphere of influence, an incalculable variable. The matter must beaddressed.”“Yes,andsoitwillbe,”saidtheinquisitor,consideringthesituation.“Returntoorbitandmaintain

yourpost.YouaretocontactmetheinstantDante’senvoyreachescontactrange.”Steletoyedwiththesilverpuritysealstudinhisear.“Imustprepare.”“New arrivals will not be turned so easily to loyalty to the Blessed,” the psyker warned.

“Terminationpresentsthebetteroption.”“You are too narrow-minded,Ulan.CommanderDante is about to deliverme a valuable object

lesson.”Steledismissedherwithawaveofhishand.“Gonow.”Whenhewasalone,theinquisitorlethiscontrolslipawayandhecrossedtothealtarandthemetal

boxuponit.ThegreycylinderboresigilsandpuritysealsshowingtheoathsoftheOrdoHereticusandtheBloodAngels,someengravedinthetitaniumitself,othersonstripsofsanctifiedparchment,fixed by fat discs of sealing wax embossed with devotional symbology. He laid his hands on thesurface of the container and felt the warmth radiating out from the object inside. The Spear ofTelesto,oneofahandfulofbattleweaponsandhallowedobjectsforged—sothemythswouldhaveit—bytheveryhandof theGod-Emperorhimself.The inquisitor felthimselfdrawnmagnetically totheumbraofthedevice,evennowasitlayinquietus.Stelesmotheredasurgeofjealousy;thereactionwasthesameeachtimeheconsideredtheMarine

Arkioandhis affinitywith the artefact.On themissionof theBellus into ork space to recover thearcheotechweapon,ithadbeenStelewhowresteditfromthegripofagreenskinwarlord,Stelewhoheld it high in victory, but only in Arkio’s hands had the Holy Lance awakened. On some basic,animalisticlevel,hecouldnotexcisetheconstantcoreofresentmenthefeltfortheyoungAstartes.HeshookthethoughtsawayThehigherpartofStele’smind,theice-coldenginethatcalculatedthe

intricateclockworkofhisschemes,knewbetter.Arkiowastheidealcandidatetowieldthespear,theperfect subject for veneration by his battle-brothers—and in the end, Stele’s guidance of his pathwould lead the inquisitor to such power that would make the spear seem like a child’s toy incomparison.

“MybrotherlaidhishandsontheSpearofTelesto.”Rafen’swordsechoedofftheironwallsofhismakeshiftmeditationcell. “TheHolyLance thatSanguiniushimselfoncecommanded,and then…”Hisvoicetrailedoff,thememoryasfreshnowweekslaterasithadbeenthemomentithappened.Forabriefinstant,Rafenfeltthedivineradianceofthespearonhisfaceagain,thegoldenlightshiningofftheteardropbladeasArkioheldthehafthighintheGreatChapeloftheBellus.Tryashemight,Rafencouldnotexplainwhathehadseenthatday.Thesuddenvisionofhissibling’sfacemeltingandmergingintoabriefincarnationofthelong-perishedprimarchoftheBloodAngels,thewingedLordSanguinius.“Itwashisexamplethatlitthewaytothisblightedworld.”TheBloodAngel’sheadbobbedashe

considered the desolation of Shenlong. “Fired by the oratory of Inquisitor Stele, my brethrenclamouredforachancetovisit retributionontheWordBearerswhohaddesecratedCybele. ItwasonlyBrother-SergeantKorisandhisfellowveteranswhospokeofcaution,andtheywerecensuredforit.”ThewordsweresuddenlyflowingfromRafen’slipsinatorrent;itwasasifspeakingthemaloudliftedagreatweightfromhisshoulders.TheiconoftheGod-Emperorwatchedhimwithcalmandunmovingeyes,silentlylisteningtotheMarineasheunfoldedthetale.Heopenedhismouth tospeakagainandaknifeofemotioncut intohim.RafensawKoris’ face

therebeforehim,thecraggyoldwarhound,eyeshardbutneverwithouthonour.IthadbeenoneofthegreatestprivilegesofRafen’sservicetocounttheveteranasamentorandafriend,butallthestrengththeMarinecouldmusterdidnotstophisformerteacherfromfallingintothedarkgripoftheBloodAngelsgene-curse,thewarpedberzerkerbattlelustknownastheblackrage.InductedintotheDeathCompany, as all men who succumbed to the red thirst were, Rafen had watched Koris as the oldwarriorrelivedthegreatbattleofSanguiniusagainstthearch-traitorHorus,playedoutinthedepthsof the Ikari fortress. “He died there.” Rafen told his god, “and you took him to the peace hedeserved…Buthedidnotreleasehisgriponlifeeasily.Hiswords…Heleftmewithawarning.”ThemomentreplayedintheMarine’smind.“Rafen.Lad,Iseeyou.”“Iamhere,oldfriend.”“ThePureOnecallsme,butfirstImust…Warn…”“Warnme?Ofwhat?”“Stele!Donottrusttheordoswhoreson!Hebroughtmetothis,allofit!Arkio…Bewaryofyour

sibling,lad.HehasbeencursedwiththepowertodestroytheBloodAngels!Iseeit!Isee—”“Gonenow.”Rafenadmitted,“andwithouthimIfeltcutadriftandalone,whilemybrotherstook

upArkio’scauseastheirown.Isawnootherpathtotake…Ibrokethedisciplineswesworetoanddamnedprotocol…”Heshookhishead,calculatingtheenormityofhistransgressions.“UndercoverofliesIsentwordtothemonasteryonBaalandtheLordCommanderDante,inhopesthathemightcometoendthismadness…Butinyourwisdom,youhaveyettoguidehimhere.”RafenopenedhiseyesandlookedintotheunmovingfaceoftheGod-Emperor.“Ibegofyou,lord,

Imustknow.AmItheheretic,thedissenter,theapostatedeservingonlyofdeath?IfArkiotrulyistheGreatSanguiniusreborn,thenwhydoIdoubtitso?Whichofusistheonefallenfromthepath,heorI?”

“Lordinquisitor?”SteleturnedtoseeSachielapproach,aquestioninglookonhisface.TheSanguinaryHighPriest’s

battle armour caught the light through the chapel windows, glinting off the white detailing thatmarked hiswargear. Stele stepped down from the altar and fixed himwith a sullen eye. “Sachiel.WhereisArkio?”“TheBlessedobservesthetrialsintheplazabelow,LordStele.Hebademetofindyou.”Sachiel

paused,frowning.“Hehasquestions…”Stelecrossed toa setof stained-glassdoorsandwavedhishandoveradiscreetwall sensor.On

ancientmechanics,theglassgatespartedtorevealabroadstonebalconyjuttingfromtheequatorofthefortress.Theinstantthedoorsopened,awallofsoundthunderedintothechapel;allatonce,therewerechantsandcheersofvictory, thescreamingof thedying, thedischargesofmultipleweapons.Theinquisitorwalkedoutintothenoise,tothelipofthebalcony,andSachielfollowed.Belowthem,thevastopenplazafrontingtheIkarifortresswasaringofshanty-builtgrandstands

and huts ringing amakeshift arena.The floor of the stadiumwas litteredwith the dead and a fewpieces of broken cover.Gunfire flashed and snapped back and forth as figures swarmedover one

another,somearmedonlywithbluntclubsandcrudeknives,othersclingingtolasriflesorballisticstubberguns.Inthestands,thefaithfulroaredinapprovalaskillsweremadeandthenumbersofthefightersgraduallydiminished.SteleglancedatSachiel.TheBloodAngelobservedtheunfoldingbattlewithanarchlook,clearly

unimpressedbythecrudityofthefighting.“Howmanysofar?”hedemandedofthepriest.“Three hundred and nine chosen at last count,” he replied. “The Blessed himself ismaking the

selections.”Stelesawthesunlightglintingasittouchedahugefigureingoldenarmour,driftingoverthebattle

onangelicwings.Ashewatched, themessianicshapesingledoutawirymanwieldingtwoswordsandnoddedtohim.Hedroppedhisweaponsandweptwithjoy, thecrowdchantingitsaccordonceagain.“Onemore,”saidStele.“We’llhavethethousandsoonenough.”“AstheBlessedchooses,”saidthepriest.“Hewillhavehisarmy.”Theinquisitorlookedaway.“Youdon’tapprove?”Sachiel’sfaceflushedred.“Howcanyouasksuchathing?ItisasArkiocommands,andheisthe

Reborn.Iwouldnotquestionhiswisdom.”Stelesmiled.“TheWarriorsof theReborn,”hesaid,gesturing to themenpenned intoaholding

areaat theedgeof thearena.“Athousandof themostzealousanddevotedto thenameofArkio…Andyet,thereareBloodAngelswhohesitateathisdecisiontoraisethishelotarmy.”Sachielblinked.“Wedonotdoubt,”hesnapped,“Itisonly…newtous.Understand,inquisitor,we

havelivedourlivestothetenetsoftheBookoftheLordsandtheCodexAstartes,andtherecruitingofthesecommonersgoesagainstthoseconvictions.”“Wearepastthetimeforancientdogma,”Stelereplied,“ArkiotheBlessedushersinanewagefor

theBloodAngels,andtheWarriorsoftheRebornaremerelyanaspectofthat.”Hepointedintothecrowdoftired,bloodyfighters.“Lookatthem,Sachiel.Theyhavefoughtalldayandstilltheywouldcut out their own hearts if Arkio demanded it of them. When he embarks on his glorioushomecomingtoBaal,thechosenthousandwillaccompanyhim.TheywillbethevanguardofanewbreedofinitiatestotheBloodAngels,anewgenerationoftheAdeptusAstartes.”Whenthepriestdidnotanswerhim,Steleturnedtopresshimforareply;butinsteadhesawthe

lookofsurpriseonSachiel’sface.“TheBlessed…”beganthepriest.FromnowhereasuddenrumbleofwindbeatatSteleandhestaggeredbackastep,forcingdown

theurgetoshieldhimselfwithhishands.Ashape,swiftandbrilliant,rushedupbeforetheedgeofthebalconyandhungbeforehim,blottingouttheglowoftheShenlongsun.Sachielfellintoadeepbowandtappedhisfisttothesymbolofawingedblooddropletonhischestplate.Theinquisitorlookedup into a face of striking nobility, a countenance that combined a most patrician aspect with thepromiseofadarkerheartbeneath.AfacethatmirroredthatofSanguiniushimself.“Stele,”saidArkio,hoveringthereonwingsspreadlikewidewhitesails.“Iwouldspeakwithyou.”

“I saw him turn death upon innocents.”Rafen’s voicewas heavywith anguish. “Bymy blood, Iwatchedmyownbrothercullmenandwomenall toowilling toacceptmurder,as if itweresomehorrificbenediction.ThisisnotthepromisetowhichIgrantedmylifeasanaspirant.ThisisnottheEmperor ’swill, Ihopeandpray that it isnot.Arkiorules thisworldnowbyforceof temper,withSachielashisinstrumentandtheInquisitorSteleasadvisorforeverathisside.Itisnotright.BytheRedGrail,themarrowinmybonessingsitisnotso!”AngerboiledupinsideRafenandhecametohisfeet,fistsballing,hiswordsbouncingoffthechamberwalls.“IpraythatLordDantewillhavethegraceandwisdomtoendthismatterbeforeourChapterissplitasunderbeneathitsweight,butuntilthatmomentcomesImustanswerthecallofmyblood.”Hetookabreath,hisburstoffurysubsiding.

“Untilasigncomestome,brightandundeniable,myheartwillset thecompassofmydeedsfromthismomentforth.”RafenlaidahandontheiconoftheEmperorandbowedhisheadonceagain.“Hearme,hearthe

pledgeofRafen,sonofAxan,childof theBrokenMesaclan,BloodAngelandAdeptusAstartes. Irecant the false oath I have taken toArkio the Blessed and in its stead I restoremy allegiance toSanguinius and the God-Emperor ofMankind. This I swear, my blood, my body, my soul as theprice.” The declaration seemed to take all the energy from him, andRafen staggered back a step.“ThisIswear,”herepeated.Afteralongmoment,hegatheredhimselftogetherandopenedthehatch,pausingtothrowtheholy

icona lastglance.Here, in this forgottenplace, thesymbolwould liesafe fromthehandsof thosewhosoughttorevisetheirbeliefsinthefaceofArkio’snewBloodCrusade.“ThereisonethingofwhichIhaveabsolutelynodoubt,”hetoldthestatue.“AsingleactforwhichIknowIandIalonewillberesponsible.Bywhatmeansandwhenareuncleartome,butmybrotherArkiowillperishandIshallbetheonetoendhim.Iknowitinmyblood,anditdamnsme.”Rafen left the room behind, the leaden burden of his dilemma pressing down upon him as he

steppedbackintotheShenlongsunlight.Hepickedhiswaythroughtherainedstreetsanddidnotlookback.Beforehim, thevastconeof theIkari fortress rose to fill thehorizon likeamonstrousvolcanic

mountain.

CHAPTERTWO

Arkiodroppedtohisfeetonthebalconywithawhisperofairthroughthewingsathisback,andcockedhishead.Sachielfelltoonekneeandavertedhisgaze,whileStelegaveashallowbow.ThegesturesseemedtosatisfytheBloodAngel.“Lordinquisitor,Ihavequestions.”Hisvoicewascool,assuredanddirect,withnoneofthehesitationthathadplaguedhiminthepastasayouth.Steleresistedtheurgetosmile.“Blessed,IwillanswerthemifIcan.”“Yourcounselhasmeantmuchtomeinthesepastfewweeks,”Arkiobegan,“andyourguidance

hashelpedmetounderstandthepathSanguiniushaslaidbeforeme.”“Iammerelythelamptolighttheway,GreatOne,”Steleallowed.“Itookonthegovernorshipof

this blightedworld only because I saw itwanting.No honest servant of the Imperiumwould havedoneanyless.ThatIcouldhelpyouintothebargain…”Arkioaccepted thiswithacursorynod.“Andwehavedonewellhere,havewenot?Thetaintof

ChaoshasbeenburntfromthestreetsofShenlong.”Sachielclearedhis throat self-consciously.“All theWordBearers that intrudedon thisplanet lie

dead,lord,thatistrue…Butoursearchstillcontinuestofindandpurgeanysympathisers.”StelewatchedArkioassimilatethepriest’swords;onlyashorttimeago,ithadbeenArkiowhohad

suggestedtheyannihilatethisworldcompletelyratherthanchancethesurvivalofanycohortsoftheChaosGods.Butthatwasbeforehistransformation,beforeArkio’sbrutalduelwiththeDarkApostleIskavan theHated in themanufactoriumbelow the city.With his physical changes,Arkio had alsoaltered within. He had become, to all intents and purposes, the living reincarnation of the BloodAngelsprimogenitor,andtheformerSpaceMarinerevelledinhisnewlyfounddivinity.HeworethesacredgoldenartificerarmourofhisChapterwiththearroganceandhauteurofonewhomhadbeenborntoit.Yes,Steletoldhimself,Ichosehimwell.“Themen speak inwhispers andkeep their fears fromme,”Arkio turnedhisbackon themand

wanderedtotheedgeofthebalcony,watchingthecontinualpit-fight.“ButyetIhearthem.”Sachiel’sfacetwisted.“Whatdissentisthis?LordArkio,ifthereareweaklingsandcravenamong

ourforces,Iwouldknowit.Thehonourguardwillseethemrepudiatedforsuchfailings!”Stelearchedaneyebrow.Withlittleprompting,Sachielhadsteppedintotheroletheinquisitorhad

laidforhimwithgusto.Sofocussedwasthepriestonadheringtothewordofhisnewmasterthathehardlynoticedhewassanctioningthecensureofhisownbattle-brothers.Arkioshookhisheadslowly.“No,BrotherSachiel,no.Thesemenarenottobechastisedfortheir

fears.WhatleaderwouldIbeifturnedawayeveryMarinewhodaredtowonder?Afoolmyself.”Thewarrior ’s wings had folded back on themselves now, and they lay flat against Arkio’s sun-brightarmour.“IfitpleasestheBlessed,”saidStele,“whathaveyouheard?”“Mybrothersareconflicted,inquisitor,”saidArkio.“Theylookuponmeandseethetruthofmy

change,of theGreatAngel’shandonmysoul,and theybelieve.Butwordspreadsnowamong theranksoftheBloodAngelshereontheplanetandaboveontheBellus.”Hegesturedtowardthesky.“IhaveheardmenspeakingofDanteandMephiston,andquestionsofourChapterbrethrenonBaal.”“They fear youwill not be accepted by the Lord Commander.” Stele said gently, providing the

wordstotherumourthathehimselfhadquietlyseeded.Ithadbeenasimplemattertofantheflames

of righteousness in theMarines who had laid their fealty at Arkio’s feet; it was the nature of thedevouttoseekenemiesinallthosewhodidnotsharetheirbeliefs.Sachiel made a negative noise. “Lord, this matter trivialises your Ascension. I grant that yes,

perhapsourbattle-brothersattheBaalmonasterymayhavetheirdoubtsaboutyou,butwhentheylayeyesonyou,theywillknowasIdo—thatyouaretheDeusEncarmine,theRebornAngel.”Arkiohunghisheadforamoment.“Canyoubesure,myfriend?Istilllooktomyownfaceand

wonderatthechangeswroughtonmebyfate.Mortalmencoulddonoless.”Steletookacalculatedpausebeforeanswering.“Blessed,asyouspeakofthisnowImustadmitthat

I too have heard thesemisgivings amongmy comrade brethren. I chose to keep it from you as Ibelieved it to be beneath your concern.” He shook his head, adopting a look of contrition. “I amsorry.”“Thentellmenow,Stele.Whatissaid?”“Asyousay,GreatArkio.Themenseethemselvessetapartfromtheirbrotherselsewhere,blessed

byyourarrivalintheirmidst—buttheyfearDante’sreactiontoyourEmergence.”TheBloodAngelfixedhimwithaquestioninglook.“Butwhy,Stele?Whyshouldtheybeafraidof

that?Danteisagoodandhonourablecommander.HehasledourChapterthroughadversityandstrifeformorethanonethousandyears,hischaracterisimpeccable.”Arkiogaveaquick,brightsmile.“IwelcomethemomentwhenIwillbeabletofacehimwiththismiracle.”And there itwas, the opening Stele had beenwaiting for.With care, hemarshalled his lies and

pressedthemhome.“ButwillDantewelcomeyou,Blessed?Whenyouenterthegrandannexeofthefortress-monastery,willDantekneelandgiveyouhisfealtyaswehave?WillhisLibrarianMephistonbowtoyou?WhatofBrothersLemartes,CorbuloorArgastes?Willtheyseethetruthofit?”“Whywouldtheydootherwise?”Arkiosaiddarkly.“Whywouldtheydoubtme?”“Dantedidnotwitnessyourmiracle,”brokeinSachiel,“Hewouldaskforproof…”“Proof?”Arkiosnapped,andhiswingsunfurledinaflashofwhite,hiseyesshiningwithsudden

intensity.“Proofdeniesfaith,andfaithisallthatweare!”“You yourself said that LordDante has commanded the BloodAngels for over amillennium,”

SteletookastepclosertoArkio,“andsomemightargue,toolong.Suchamanwouldnotstepasideeasily,Blessed,eveninthefaceofsuchdivinityasyours.AndMephiston…”Heshookhishead.“ThepsykertheycalltheLordofDeathhasalwaysheldhimselftobetheheirapparenttothemasteryoftheChapter.Thesemen…Iwouldnotvouchfortheirmagnanimityinthismatter.”Arkioshookhisheadagain.“No.Iwillnothearthis.Whathashappenedtomeisablessingfrom

theEmperorforeveryBloodAngel,forourentireChapter,not just theMarineshereonShenlongand the crewofBellus. I havebeen chosen,Stele.Chosenby fate to be the vessel for a power fargreater than myself! Sanguinius makes himself known through me, returns to us after so longdeparted.Iwillnotconceivethatthismarvel…”Hepaused,hisfangsbearinginasnarlashefoughtdownhisanger.“ThatIwillbethecauseofaschismamongmybrothers.No!Itshallnotbeso.”Inonesinglebound,Arkiosteppedupontothelipofthestonebalconyandsweptoffit,acrashofairfillinghiswings.Thegoldenfiguredroppedbackintothearena,intothethunderousadulationofhiswarriorsandhissubjects.Stelewatchedhimgo,awareofSachielasthepriestcamecloser.“Wouldthathiswishesbecome

reality,”saidtheinquisitorgravely,“butitmaynotgoastheBlessedwouldhope.”Sachielhadafarawaylookinhiseyes,asiftheApothecary’smindwasfocussedonsomedistant

vanishing point, on events yet to come. “You…could be right, lord inquisitor. IfDante denies theAscensionofArkio,itwillsplittheBloodAngelsasunder.”Thesombrethoughtswerehardforthepriesttoarticulate.“Therecouldbea…acivilwar.AseveringgreaterthananythingourChapterhaseverknownbefore.”

“Indeed.” Stele intoned, “and such a breakwould not be as congruous as those that created theSuccessorChapters,theBloodDrinkersandtheFleshTearers,theAngelsVermilion,EncarmineandSanguine…”“Wewillfindadherentsinthosebands.”Sachielsaidquickly,“oncewordspreadsoftheBlessed.If

whatyoususpectcomestopass,DantewillbeunabletodenytheRebirthwhenallourbattle-brothersgivecredencetoit.”The inquisitor gave a sigh. “Perhaps, Sachiel, perhaps. I hope that these dark possibilities we

considernowremainjustthat—butifnot,wemustbeprepared.”ThepriestwatchedArkioasheswoopedanddoveoverthegreatarena.“Todowhat,lord?Togo

towarwithourkinsmen?Ihardlydaretospeaksuchathing.”“If theBloodAngels onBaal are unwilling to acceptArkio forwhat he is, as the avatar of the

SanguineMessiah,theymayneedtobeencouragedtobelieve.”StelemetSachiel’sgazeandhelditwithhiscold,glitteringeyes.“Iftheydonot,thenthosewhoresistthedivinedesignmustbepurged.”TheHighPriestrepliedwithaslow,seriousnod,andSteledrewawayasmile.

Rafenkeptoffthemoreheavilytraffickedstreetsasmuchashecould,buteventuallyhewasforcedto walk out in the open, amid the endless confusion of markets, portable shrines and throngingShenlongicitizens.HewasonthefarsideoftheIkarifortresstothecombatarena,butstillthesoundsof the chanting crowds were filling the air, humming up and down the octaves like distant surfbreakingonashore.TheMarinespiedseveralknotsofexcitednativesclusteredaroundjury-riggedspeakersinshopdoorwaysandwindows,thesoundboxeshastilytappedintothewebsoflinesfromthe factory-city’s vox-net. Tinny commentaries issued out of the speakers, encouraging hoots ofexcitementfromsomeandgroansfromothers.Thefruitsofwagers,dog-earedhandfulsofImperialscrip,changedhandsascandidates for theWarriorsof theReborndiedofforwerechosenfor thethousand.Rafendidhisbesttokeeptotheedgesofthehighway,headbowedandhoodup;buttherewaslittle

hecoulddotoavoidtoweringoverthecivilians,thetallestofwhomcouldbarelyreachtheMarine’sshoulder.Withawedwhisperstheypartedinfrontofhimlikewaterflowingaroundarock.Someofthem,themoredaring,wouldreachoutandrunafingeroverthehemofhisgarment.Heconsideredgivingthemaflashofhisteethandasnarltokeepthematbay;butwhatgoodwoulditdotoinstilanevengreaterfearofhiskindinthesepeople?Somethingcrunchedbeneath the soleofhis sandalandRafenpaused.With the tipofhis foothe

nudgedabrokentinobjectoutofthedirt.Ithadbeencutfromanoldrecafcanandbentintoshapeas…what? TheMarine became aware of a skinny child watching himwith an open, gap-toothedmouth.Thestreeturchinwassmearedwithrustydirtandboreascarredcheek.Infrontofthechildwasabox filledwithmore tin shapes.Rafen lookedcloser.Someof thecrafted thingswerecrudecopiesoftheBloodAngelscrest,othersamodeloftheSpearofTelesto,evenaminiaturefigureofawingedSpaceMarine.Heindicatedtheobjectathisfeet.“Youmadethis?”The child nodded once, with no change in expression. Rafen picked up the ruined effigy and

depositeditbackinthebox.Closer,hecouldseethatthejuvenilewasagirl.Ontheblemishedsideofher face shewasmissing a patch of hair. He nodded to himself; the child had been caught in thenimbusofaplasmashot.“Youareluckytobealive,”hetoldher.Shenoddedagain,andclosedhermouth.Onherdirty tunic,Rafensawarenditionof thespear-

and-halobadgethatArkio’ssupporterswerepopularisingandfrowned.Hesurveyedthecontentsofherbox,thenlookedupandmethergaze.“TherearenoiconsoftheEmperorhere,”hesaidquietly.“You will make no more of these others from now on, understand? Only symbols of the God-Emperor.”

“Yes,lord.”Atlastshespoke,anditwaswithapiping,tremulousvoice.Rafenturnedandwalkedaway,resuminghispath towardthefortress.Behindhim, thepeopleon

the street scrambled topressmoney into thegirl’s hands, suddenlydesperate tobuyan icon that aBloodAngelhadtouched.

ChaplainDeloswaswaitingforhimatthefootofthefortresstower.“Rafen,”theblack-armouredpriestbeckonedhimcloser.“Ididnotseeyouatprayers—”“Forgiveme,butItookmydevotionalonetoday,Chaplain,”hereplied.“Irequired…solitude.”“Justso,”saidDelos.“Thearmingritualdemandsyourmostseriousmind.Itisgoodthatyouhave

prepared.”Thepriestwalkedhiminto themassive inneratriumof thefortress,past themetre-highpilesofdevotionalobjectsandinvocationplaquesleftbythecitizens.“Iknowthesetimeshavebeendifficultforyou.”Rafensaidnothingandwalkedon.TheChaplaintookhissilenceforassent.“ThedeathsofyourCaptainSimeononCybele,thefallof

Koristotheredthirst…”Heshookhishead.“Andyoursibling…Noneofushavebeenthroughthemaelstromof thingsasyouhave.But itpleasesme thatyouhavecome tounderstand thegloryofArkio’sblessing.”“Yes.”Rafenkepthisvoiceneutral.Delosdidnotseemtonotice.“Thatyoutookhisoath,thatgladdensme,BrotherRafen.Iwasafraidyoumightalsosuccumbto

theredthirstasKorisdid.”“Werethereanymenwhorefused?”Rafensaidsuddenly.“Didanybattle-brotherrefusetobendhis

kneetoArkio?”DeloslookedatRafenwithaconfusedsmirk.“Ofcoursenot.NotasingleBloodAngelcoulddeny

hisAscension.”“No,”saidRafen,“ofcoursenot.”TheChaplain stepped forward and opened the doors to the consecration chamber and beckoned

himinside.Itwasgloomyintheroom,thelightofhoveringbiolumescastingaviridianhazeovereverything.AspiderofmetallicarmsmovedintheshadowsandaTechmarineemerged.“BrotherLucion,”saidRafen.Luciongavehimanodofacknowledgementandgesturedtoalowironbench.Acrossthesurface

were thepartsof a suit ofAdeptusAstartespower armour, andaround the table a trioofhunchedservitorstwitched,awaitingtheTechmarine’scommand.“Weshallcommence,”intonedDelos.Without ceremony, Rafen disrobed, discarding his common cloth and sandals, revealing the

glistening ebony sheath of his black carapace.A living compound of plastics and alloys, the darkmaterialhadbeenimplantedundertheskinofhisuppertorsoinhisseventeenthyear,asthefinalpartof his initiation and transformation fromBaalite tribesman intoBloodAngels SpaceMarine. Theneuralsensorsandtransfusionshuntsthatbloomedfromthesurfaceofthecarapaceopenedliketheyawningmouthsoftinybirds,readytoaccepttheinterfacejacksofhisnewarmour.AsDelosbegan theLitanyofArmament, he set a grail-shaped censer swinging fromhis hands.

Lucion gave a burst-command in chatteringmachine code, and as one the servitorswent towork,fitting the components of theMark VII codex power armour to Rafen’s body. The SpaceMarinejoined in the chantwhere his answerswere needed to complete the rite. Thermonic garments slidacrosshim;flexiblemyomermuscleencircledthemeatofhislimbs,arrangingitselftoenhanceandaugmenthisphysicalstrength;overthiscametheouterlayerofbondedceramiteandplasteelweave,toughenoughtoturnaglancingboltshellattwentypaces.Rafenslidhisbarefeetintothehollowsofhisgreaves,thegyroscopicstabilisersinthebroadbootshummingintolife.

As the armourwrapped itself aroundhim, theBloodAngel felt ameasure of comfort from thefamiliartouchandscentofthewargear.ThepowerarmourhehadwornsincehisinitiationhadbeendestroyedincombatwiththeChaoschampionIskavan,thecenturies-oldhardwareruinedbytheclawsand blades of theWord Bearer. Perhaps some elements of his old gear might remain among thecomponentshenowdonned,butforthemostparthewasclothinghimselfinthearmourofdeadmen.Ontheinnersurfacesoftheboots,thewristsheaths,thechestplates,therewerelinesandlinesoftinyscripture,etchedtherebyblade-pointoverhundredsofyears.Eachpieceofthecodexarmourcarriedthehistoryofitswearers,arollofhonournamingthementhathadborneitintocountlessbattles.ThegearthatRafenwouldnowcallhisownhadbeeninservicetotheChapterforhalfamillenniumormore.Oneoftheservitorshandedhimagauntlet,andRafenpaused.Etchedintheceramiteaboutthewrist

guardwasanamethatheknew.“Bennek,”hesaidsoftly.“Brother?”Luciongavehimaquestioninglook.“Issomethingamiss?”Rafen shookhishead, rememberingBennek’sdeathonCybele.Hiscomradehadbeen struckby

enemy plasma fire and crushed beneath a horde ofWord Bearers. Rafen thrust his hand into thegauntletandmadeafistwithit,silentlyvowingtoavengehisbattle-brother ’sdeath.LucionleanedinandattachedRafen’sleftshoulderguard,runninghisclaw-handoverthewinged

tearofbloodembossedon the surface.TheTechmarinegripped theopposingpieceandmoved toplaceitovertherightarm,butRafen’seyesnarrowedandheblockedLucionwiththeflatofhishand.He pointed at the other shoulder guard. “What is this?” Alongwith the traditional white teardropdesign that symbolised the Third Company of the BloodAngels, the armour bore a new sigil—agoldenspearsurroundedbyahalo.TheChaplainandTechmarineexchangedglances.“InhonourofArkio,brother,”saidDelos.“To

signifyourpresencehereaswitnessestohisEmergence.”Rafenhesitated,thinkingofhisoath,thenlookedawaywithanod.Lucionattachedthepadwithout

comment. Finally, the litany concluded with the Chaplain’s benediction over Rafen’s helmet. TheMarineallowedtheservitorstoplaceitoverhishead,andheheardthehissandclickoftheneckringsealinghim into thewargear. Inside theaccustomedconfinesof thearmourhe felt aliveagain, thesecondskinofmetalandplasticasnaturaltohimasbreathing.Rafendroppedtoonekneeandmadethesignoftheaquila.“IamarmouredbytheEmperorhimself,”hesaid,recallingthewordsofDantefromtheeveofthe

AlchonisCampaign.“Righteousnessismyshield.Faithismyarmourandhatredmyweapon.IfearnotandIamproud,forIamaSonofSanguinius,aprotectorofmankind.Aye,IamindeedanAngelofDeath.”“Blood for Sanguinius,” Lucion andDelos spoke together. “Blood for the Emperor. Blood for

Arkio,theAngelReborn.”Beneaththeblankmaskofhishelmet’sbreathergrille,Rafen’sfacesouredatthelastwords,andhe

cametohisfeet.Lucionpresentedhimwithanobjectwrappedinredvelvet.TheMarineunfurledthecloth from his bolter and ran his fingers over the gun’s surface. This was the only piece of hisequipmentthathadsurvivedtheclashwithIskavanintact,andRafenfeltacurioussadnessashereadtheengravingshehadplacedonitduringhisyearsofservice.ThebolterwasaremnantoftheoldRafen, he realised, the Blood Angel who had been content in his service to Chapter and God-Emperor,neverdaringtoquestionhisplaceintheschemeofthings;notsonow.Heworkedtheslideon theweapon and loaded it, the last action in the ritual completed.Rafen brought the bolter to abattle-readystancewithasnapofbootsonstone.Avoicecamefromthedoorway.“Ah,mybrotheriswholeoncemore.”DelosandLucionbowed

as Arkio strode into the chamber. Even in the poor light of the room, the Blood Angel’s golden

armourseemedtoglowwithaninnerluminescence.“Blessed,”begantheChaplain,butArkiowavedhimintosilence.“Delos,ifyouwouldpermitme,Iwouldspeakwithmysiblingalone.”“Ofcourse.”ThepriestgesturedtoLucionandthetwoMarinestooktheirleave,thetech-servitors

waddlingoutafterthem.ArkioplacedahandonRafen’sshoulderandsmiled.“Ipromisedyou thatyouwould live,did I

not?”Rafenrecalledhisbrother ’swordsinthewakeoftheduelwithIskavan.“Yes.Ithankyouformy

life.”Thesmilebroadened,andonceagainRafenwasstruckbytheuncannysimilaritiesbetweenArkio’s

new aspect and the renditions of Sanguinius that hung in the chapels. “Formality is not neededbetween us, Rafen. You are my blood kin as well as my battle-brother.” He tapped the sculptedbreastplateofhisarmour.“Iwantyouclosebymyside.Wehavegreatworksaheadofus,kinsman,highdeedsthatwillbespokenofthroughoutthegalaxy.”ThedisplayinsideRafen’shelmettoldhimthecomparativepositionsofthenearestBloodAngels.

Therewerefourhonourguardsoutsidethechamber,alongwithDelosandLucion;eventheswiftestofthemwasafulltensecondsaway.Arkiostoodwithinarm’slengthofRafen,hismoodrelaxedandhisguardapparently lowered.Hisbrotherwaswithoutheadgear, thebareskinofhis throatvisible.Rafenwasawareoftheweightofhisbolterinhismailedfist,afullmagazineofshellsthereintheclip.Itwouldnottakemuch;justajerkofthewrist tobringthemuzzleoftheguntopressagainstArkio’schest,onesqueezeofthetriggertodischargeapoint-blankburstoffire.Eventhehallowedgoldartificerarmourwouldnotbeabletowithstandsuchastrike.Inthatmoment,RafenimaginedthelookofshockandpainonArkio’sfaceastheboltshellstoreintohistorso,punchinghisorgansthroughhisbackinariotoffluidandmatter.Hecouldalmostsmellthehotblood,thetasteofitonhistongueflaringastheredthirstcaressedtheedgesofhismind.Theopportunitywashere,now.AllRafenneeddowasraisehisweaponandmurderhisbrother,andhewouldputanendtoallquestionofthisEmergence.Thethoughtofitrepelledandagitatedhiminequalmeasure.“What…whatdeeds?”Thewordscameoutofhismouthoftheirownaccord.“ABloodCrusade.”Arkiosaidfirmly.“OnceIhaveunitedtheChapterunderourbanner,wewill

drawtogetherallthesuccessors,alltheSonsofSanguineus.Bythegrail,weshallcutthecancerousheart of Chaos from our space.” He gave his sibling a clear-eyed look, the pure power of hisdispositionoverwhelmingatsuchclosequarters. Itwas littlewonder that lessermenwoulddie foronesuchashe.Rafen’sbolterfeltlikeitwasasdenseasneutronium,tooheavytomove.“How?”“We’llbeginwiththeMaelstrom,brother.FittingthatourfirsttargetwillbethenestoftheWord

Bearers,yes?Iwillpersonallyseetoitthattheirfoulcadreispurgedtoaman.”LikethemonstrousEyeofTerror, thehorrific realmofwarpedspaceknownas theMaelstromwasagateway into thechaoticrealmoftheRuinousPowers,anditwasinthistwistedzonethattheSonsofLorgarhadmadetheir throneworld.Arkionodded tohimself. “CommanderDantehasallowed them theprivilegeoflifetoolong,Ithink.AsSachielsaid,itisnotenoughthatwedrovethemfromCybeleandShenlong.Wemustdrivethemfromexistence.”“Thepriest,”Rafensaidinachillvoice.“YouvaluehiswordsmorethanthoseofourChapter ’s

lord?”Arkio’seyesnarrowed.“Danteisnothere,Rafen.Dantedidnotsee,aswedid,themercilessintent

ofIskavan’shordes.Hadwenotintervened,aworldwouldhavebeenputtodeath.”Helookedaway.“I have always honoured Commander Dante in word and deed, but now I find my perspectivechanging,brother.DuringmytimeonthemissionoftheBellus,awayfromBaal,perhapsitwasthen

thatIfirstbegantowonderifhisstewardshipofourLegionwasallitcouldbe…”Rafenstifledagasp.“Somewouldcallthatdissidence.”“Who?”snappedArkio,“Whowoulddaresay that tome?Was itnotouroldmentorKoriswho

saidthatmenmustquestionallthattheybelieve,orelsetheyarefools?”“Andwhatdiditbringhim?”Rafensaidbitterly.“LordDanteisafinecommander.”“Yes,perhaps.Perhapshewas,fivehundredyearsagoatthepeakofhispowers,butwhatofnow?

It was the inquisitor who drewme to this fact, Rafen—among all their victories, have the BloodAngels truly assumed their place as the first among equals before theEmperor?Lookback to thedeathofourBrotherTychoatHiveTempestora.Oneofourgreatestfallsandnothingisdone?Weshouldhaveledareprisalforcetowipeoutadozenorktribeworldsaspaymentinkind.AndDantedidnot!”Heturnedaway,presentinghisfoldedwingstohisbrother.“InelevenhundredyearsattheheadofthegreatestChapteroftheLegionAstartes,whatprogresshashemadetowardthemasteryofourgene-curse?None!”Rafencouldnotbelievewhathewashearing,theopenscorninArkio’svoice.“Brother,whathas

drivenyoutothis?”Arkiofixedhimwithalevelgaze.“Ihavehadmyeyesopened,Rafen.”“ByStele?BySachiel!”Hetriedandfailedtokeepamockingtonefromhisvoice.TheBloodAngelgaveasnortofderision.“Rafen,youaretransparenttome.NowIseewhyyou

falterat these ideals—it isnotyourwill thatpreventsyou, it isyourpride.Your…rivalrywith thepriest runs deep, yes?Neither of uswill forget that itwas he that almost cost you your chance tobecomeaChapterinitiate.”“Youareright.”Rafenadmitted.“ButitisnotjustmydislikeofSachielthatcoloursmywords.I

imploreyou,brother,donotfollowthecounselofthepriestandtheinquisitorblindly—”“Blind?”Arkiorepeated,hismoodturningstormy.“Ohno,Rafen,itisyouwhorefusestosee.”He

paused,moderatinghis annoyance. “But stillwehave time. I keepyou close, brother, because youremindmethatnopathistheeasyone.Iquestionandyouquestionme.Youarethedevil’sadvocate.”Arkiogavehimanotherbrilliantsmileandpattedhimontheshoulder.“Thankyou.”Rafenwatchedhim leave, thehandaroundhisbolter ’spistolgripas rigidand immobile as cast

iron.

InthesilenceoftheSanctumAstropathicaaboardtheBellus,Ulandriftedinzerogravity,aweaveof mechadendrites and brassy cables snaking from slots on her skull to banks of murmuringcognitiveengines.Thepsyker ’smindwas spreadas thinlyas shedared, theenergyof itdispersedintoawidenet.Herconcentrationwasparamount;ifsheweretoletherthoughtsdriftfurtherforevenaneye-blink,what little therewastocallherpersonalitywouldbepickedapartonthewindsof theempyrean.Shewasaspidernow,settledatthenexusofawebshewovefromherownpsy-stuff.Ulanlurkedthere,sensitivetoanyperturbationintherollingnon-matterofthewarp,lookingandwatchingforpatterns.There were things out there. She was careful not to let her attention turn directly upon them,

cautiously watching them only by the wakes they left in passing, the shimmers as the anti-spacestretchedundertheirweight.Ulankeptherterrorforthesethingsunderthetightestcontrolofall,theylikedthetasteoffear.Eventhetiniestspeckofitcouldcall themacrossthevoidlikeseapredatorsscentingdropsofbloodinthewater.Thentheyweregoneasquicklyastheyhadarrived.Ulanwaslisteningagain,watching,waiting.And there was her target. Very distant but approaching quickly now, cutting through the

immateriumlikeaswordblade.Aman-madeobject,swiftanddeadlyinaspect.Ulansmiledandgatheredherselfbacktogether.Whenshehadrecoveredenoughofherpotency,

shefocusedonhermasterandsenthimasingleword.Soon.

ItwaslateforFiringRites,andsotherangewasdeserted.Rafenwasinwardlypleased;hedidnotfeel likecompanyforthemoment,andthequestionsandcommentsofhisbrethrenwouldhavenotbeenwelcomed.Heloadedafreshsicklemagazineintothebolterandtookaimwiththenakedeye,releasingaseriesofthree-roundburstsintotherotatingtargetstands.Hefrownedattheresults.Hisweaponhadbeenknockedofftruewhenitfellfromhishandsinthe

manufactory.Withcare,Rafenadjustedthepitchoftheforesight.Thesimple,disciplinedactiongavehimfocusawayfromthechurningconcernsinthebackofhismind.Intentonthework,herealisedtoolatethatsomeoneelsehadenteredthechamber.Rafenlookedupandscowled.“Hereyouare,”saidSachiel,withfalselightness.“Yournewarmourfitsyouwell,brother.”Hereturnedtohisbolter,unwillingtowastebreathonpretendedpleasantrieswiththeSanguinary

HighPriest.“Iwillstrivetobeworthyofit.”“Iampleasedtohearyousaythat.TheBlessedwasquiteconcernedthatyoubereturnedtoduty

status.Arkio…Itappearshehasagreaterdegreeoflenityforabloodrelative,thanforothermen.”Rafenreloadedthebolterandslammedthemagazinehomewithforce.“Donotplaywordgames

withme,Sachiel,”hesaidsharply.Allatonce,histolerancefortheconceitedpriestvanished.“Youhavecomeheretosaysomethingtome?Speakandbeonyourway.”Sachiel’s face reddened but he kept the annoyance from his voice. “Your bluntness could be

construed by some as insubordination,Rafen. Iwould pay itmind if Iwere you.”He leaned in tospeakinalow,loadedwhisper.“TheBlessedmayhavereasontoendureyourdisputeofhisdivinityfornow,butIwouldnottesthimfurther,brother.Awisemanwoulddowelltoheedawarningandkeephissilence.”“Yourwordscouldbeconstruedbysomeasathreat,Apothecary,”saidRafen,mimickinghistone.“Theymightatthat,”Sachielagreed.“IfyoucontinuetochallengeArkio,therewillcomeatime

whenhisfavourwillwane.Andwhenthatmomentcomes,itwillbemypleasuretoseeyoubrandedaheretic.”Rafen angrily rose to his feet in a rush from his firing stance, the bolter still hot in his hands.

Sachielwas caught by surprise and backed away a step. “Your counsel is appreciated.”Rafen saidcoldly,shoulderinghisweapon.“Butifyouforgiveme,IhavedutiestoattendtoaboardtheBellus.”“Whatduties?”demandedthepriest.“Thememoryofthedead,Sachiel.Imustpaymyrespectstothefallenintheship’sgreatchapel.”

HepushedpasttheApothecaryandwalkedaway.“Takecare,Rafen.”Sachielcalledoutafterhim,“lestyouwishtojointhemtoosoon.”

CHAPTERTHREE

RafenfeltthepullofShenlong’sgravitylessenastheThunderhawkroseoutoftheforge-world’satmosphericenvelope.Heglancedthroughtheviewport—thedun-colouredskybeyondhadfadedtoadirtypurpleandnowitwas theblackofspace.Craninghisneck,hecouldsee thecurvatureof theplanet,ablanketofrustypollutionovertheindustriallandscape.Thetransportrockedasitchangedcourse.Rafenknewtheinteriorsofthesecraftaswellashedid

thewordsoftheChapterhymnals,manywastheoccasionthathehadbeencrammedintotheheavilyarmouredcargodeckofsuchavessel,shouldertoshoulderwithotherBloodAngels.Thevibrationofthefloorbeneathhisfeetneverfailedtokindleafaintanticipatorythrillinhischest.Itwassooftentheprecursortobattle,butnottoday.TheThunderhawkcarriedonlymunitionsonthisjourney.Rafenhadhalf-expected not to find a flight back toBellus’s anchor at high orbit, but by luck one of thebarge’sauxiliarieshadbeenpreparingforlift-off.Thetransportwastakingadvantageoftheforge-world’sfullstocksofshellstorearmthewarship,ferryingcaseaftercaseofmissileswhereitmightnormallyhave loadedRhinosandMarines forgroundassault.Thewarheads filled thehull spaces,leavingscantroomforanythingelse.Rafenwasnottheonlypassenger.Personallysupervisingthecargowasthebattlebarge’ssecond-

in-command,BrotherSolus.RafencouldnotrecalleverhavingseenthemanoutsidethebridgeoftheBellusbefore. Solus seemedmore like an extension of thewill of the ship’s commander, CaptainIdeon,thanapersoninhisownright.Solusthrewhimacursorynodashepassedthroughthecabin.“We’lldocksoon,”henoted.The

SpaceMarinepausedandgaveRafenaquestioninglook.“Iwasnotawareyouhadbeenorderedtoreturntotheship.”Much of the Bellus’s crew had been granted planetfall leave in a gesture of magnanimity by

InquisitorStele,followinghisassumptionofthebrevetgovernorshipofShenlong.InthewakeoftheWordBearers invasion, the forge-world had declared a celebratory holiday andChapter serfs andcommoner crewmenhadbeenonly toohappy to join the festivities.The carnivalmoodRafenhadglimpsedintheIkaridistrictwaseverywhere,allofitalivewiththeworshipofArkio.Thepressureof that and theknowledge thatSachielwas surelywatchingRafen’s everymovehaddrivenhim tolook for solace somewhere—anywhere—away fromArkio. A spell aboard the quiet corridors ofBelluswouldgiveRafentimetothink,hehoped.Noneofthis,however,heconfidedinSolus.“Mymentor,Brother-SergeantKoris,”saidRafen.“Heliesinthegrandchamberaboardthebarge.

Iwishtopaymyrespectstohim,andenterhisnameintheBookoftheFallen.”Solusnodded.TheritualwastypicallyperformedbyaSanguinaryPriest,butoftenmenwhohad

servedcloselywiththosewhodiedwouldcarryouttheriteasapersonalfarewell,writingthedeadman’snameintheirownbloodasalastingsalute.“Ididnotknowhim.FromwhatIsawofhim,heseemedan…outspokenwarrior.”“Indeed.”Rafenagreed,“hewasthat.”“ApityhedidnotlivetoseetheEmergence.”Soluscontinued.“Agreatmanyofourbrothersfell

forthatpieceofdirt.”HeindicatedShenlongwiththejerkofhischin.EventhoughhewasAstartestothecore,Solusstillhadaspacer ’sdislikeforplanets.Ahatchhissedopentoadmitabondmaninflightcrewgear.HebowedquicklytoSolus.“Lord,we

arereceivinganalertfromBellus.”“Towhatend?”theMarinedemanded.“Astarshipisapproachingtheplanet.OurcogitatorsbelieveittobethestrikecruiserAmareo.”Rafenstraightened.“Oneofours.”Hefelthispulsequicken.ThearrivalofanotherBloodAngels

vesselcouldmeanonlyonething:theclandestinemessagehehadsentusingSergeantKoris’vox-nettransmitterhadgotthroughtoBaal.“Isitknownwhoisincommandofthecruiser?”The serf nodded. “Yes, lord. The pennant of Brother-Captain Gallio flies from the Amareo’s

bridge.”“Gallio…”repeatedRafen.“Youknowhim?”saidSolus.“Onlybyreputation.Hewasacontemporaryofmylatecommander,CaptainSimeon.”Solusconsideredthisforamoment,thenturnedtothecrewman.“ContactBellus. InformCaptain

Ideon thatwe are diverting to interceptAmareo.Protocol requires that a ranking officerwelcomeGalliotothesystem.”Theserfsalutedandreturnedtothebridge.Rafenwatchedhimgo.“Lord,shouldnottheAmareobe

receivedbyaquorumofseniorMarines?”Solus nodded. “Correct,Rafen, butwithmuch of the crewplanetside for the celebrations of the

Ascension,IdoubtIdeoncouldfindotherstobespared.”Hebeckonedhimtohisfeet.“YouandIwillhavetosuffice.”TheThunderhawk’senginesthrobbedandthelightthroughthewindowshiftedastheshipchanged

course.Rafenlookedoutandsawasplinterofsilverandredhanginginthedarklikeathrownknife;hissearchforrespitewouldhavetobepostponed.

Ulan’swarningbroughtathinsmiletoStele’sbloodlesslips.Seatedcross-leggedinthecentreofthebloodstaineddeathroom,theinquisitor ’sdarkgrox-hidecoatpooledoutaroundhimlikespilledink.Inthedimhalf-light,heappearedtobesomesortofstrangeextrusiongrowingoutofthepatchesofdriedcrimson.Stelegaveaquicklookatthedoor;ifheweredisturbed,ifhisconcentrationwasbroken, thenallof thiswouldbefornothing.Therewasashock-wardattached to the insideof thehatch, primed and ready to deliver amassive electric charge into anyone foolish enough to try toopenitfromtheoutside.Hereachedintooneofdozensofsecretpocketsinthecoatandretrievedtwovialsofbright,fresh

blood.Stelehaddrawnthefluidhimself,fromthenecksofthemerchant’swifeanddaughterastheyhad lain spent at his feet, compelling them into death so that the liquidmight teemwith the vitalessenceoftheirbrutal,potentmurder.Uncappingthevials,helickedhislipsasthesmelloftheliquidreachedhim.Gentlynow,itwasimportantnottowasteeventhesmallestdrop.Steleclosedhiseyesandjerkedhiswrists;thecontentsofthevialsflickeredintotheairinawet

arc, tracing precise lines that bisected one another. In that moment, the gloomy, meat-wet roomquiveredwiththepsychicfingerprintsofagony,andSteleslippedhismindintothenon-spaceattheedge of thewarp. To the layman and the untrained, Ramius Stele appeared to possess formidablepskyertalents,butintruthhewasamanofonlymiddlingmentalpowerincomparisontomanyoftheImperium’s telepathic agents. Stele’s talents lay not in the brute force application of his psychicability, like thoseofhis servantUlan,but inhis subtleuseof them.Stele’smindwas lessa sword,moreascalpel,butstillutterlylethalwhenusedcorrectly.Theinquisitor ignoredthe thrillingwarmthof theenergiesaroundhim,resistingtheurgetodip

into them like a welcoming ocean. His resolve firm, Stele let his abhuman senses map the spacearoundShenlonginshadesofpsionicforce.Upabove,whereBelluslay,wasthefaintemberglowofthelatentmindsaboardher.FlickeringandwaveringamongthemwasUlan’sbrightanddangerous

psychic imprint. She was a firefly in a bottle, her power bouncing off the walls of the inhibitorcoronetheforcedhertowear.HadStelechosentochannelhismindthroughhers,whathedidnowwould have been far easier, but her erratic character was too unpredictable for something thatrequiredsodelicateatouch.He passed further out, ignoring the dots of light on a small craft suspended mid-way between

Bellusandthenewarrival, lettinghisspirit-selfapproachtheAmareo.Adartof indistinct fear roseandfellinhimashesensedtheclear,steadyglowofapsykermindonboardthestarship;onsomelevel,hehadbeenconcernedthatthearch-telepathMephistonwouldbethefirsttocomeandconfrontArkio.Forallhisarrogance,StelewasnotsofoolishastothinkhecouldmatchwitswiththeLordofDeath—atleast,notatthemoment.Butashepredicted,theChiefLibrarianoftheBloodAngelshadsentaproxyinhisplace,anditwasthistrainedpsychethatglitteredbeforehim.Ithadnoneoftherandom, freakish colorationofUlan’smentality.Thiswas a keen, acutemindbornof the psykanalibrarius.Allthemorereasontotreadcarefully,Steleremindedhimself.Theinquisitorraisedhishandsso

thathisghost-fingersbarelytouchedthecoronaofthepsyker ’sauraandletthesurfacedetailsoftheLibrarian’smindrevealthemselves.TheBloodAngelwaswithouthispsychichoodforthemoment,a piece of good fortune thatwouldmake his task easier.The inquisitor ’s subtletywas his greatestskill,his targetwouldneversuspect thatStele’sdark touchwasspreadingoverhismind likesomedarksheenofoil.“Yourname…”Stelesaidaloudtothedankair,“YouareBrotherVode,EpistolarytoMephiston.

Hehassentyou…SentyoutotasteArkio’smind…”Andthereitwas,driftinginsideVode’sthoughts,perhapseventoofaintfortheSpaceMarinetoknowhimself,thecoldsplinterofdoubtandsuspicion.Stele made a low chuckle in the depths of his throat. Mephiston had dispatched the best of hisLibrariansonthismission,butindoingsoopenedVodetothethoughtthathewouldbeventuringintothesoulsofheretics.StelelaidhishandsuponVode’snascentmisgivingsandbegantomassagethem,working themdeeper.Even at such a distance, the taint of theBloodAngels psyker ’s loathing forapostatesleakedintothemind-spacelikeblackichor.Withghostlypressure,StelenurturedVode’sdoubts,sweatbeadinghisbaldbrowwitheffortand

concentration.

Brother-Captain Gallio entered the cruiser ’s training gallery and found Vode immediately. TheLibrarianwasinthemidstofaseriesofregimentedkata,acomplexdanceofadvances,parries,andblocks.Inhishand,thepsykerheldaformidable-lookingforceaxe,afullhalfofGallio’sheightandforged from bright steel made in the foundries of Luna. The axe head quivered in the light, thecrystallinebladeflickeringwiththewitch-fireofpsionicenergy.Thecaptain’seyesseemedtoslideoffthemetalliccurve,asifhisvisioncouldnotholdtheshape

oftheweaponinhisgaze.Gallio,likemostAdeptusAstartes,heldapowerfuldistrustofanythingthatbore themark of the psyker. To him, those who had this aberrant curse were to be considered adanger,orattheverybest,tobepitied.Itwasthroughthelensofsuchmindsthatthefirstgatewaystothewarphadbeenopened,andwiththemthelurkingpowersofChaosthatmadetheimmateriumtheirhome.Thiswasthefearthatlayattheheartofthepsychic“gift”,thosewhowereweakinspiritwouldfindthemselvesseducedbytherawenergyofthewarpspace.Suchsoulscouldbecomeconduitsfordaemonicintelligences,fleshvesselsforcreaturesthatwerehateincarnate.GallioapproachedVodecarefully,watchingthepreciseballetofthepsyker ’sfightingstyle.There

wasnowastedmovementthere:eachsimulatedblowoftheaxewaseconomicalandclear-cut.EveryiotaofGallio’sbattleinstinctwaskeyedtothewaragainstChaos,andonsomelevelhebelievedthatsuchwitch-mindsdeservedonlydeath.Andyet,herewasapsykerwhoborethemarkoftheBlood

Angels.BeforehimstoodamanthatembodiedboththemagnificenceofaSpaceMarineandthedarkpotentialofamonstrouspsychic.Thedualityofthematterperturbedhim.Vodecameaboutandhalted,thehummingforceaxehoveringbetweenthetwomen.Vodehadeyes

thatweresopaleastobealmostgrey.Gallioresistedtheautomaticsurgeofrevulsioninhisgutasthefaintglowfromtheweapondrewallthemoisturefromtheair.“Honouredcaptain,”saidVodequietly,showingnoconcernatGallio’sexpression.“Iamprepared.

Whatisyourbidding?”TheLibrarianwas nothing like hismaster, the notoriousMephiston,Gallio noted. TheLord of

Deathwasagaunt,imposingfigureinred-goldceramite,whereVodewasaruggedfireplugofamanwithskinthecolourofdarkwood.“AtransportapproachesfromtheBellus.Wemustbepreparedtoreceivethem.”UnliketherankandfileoftheBloodAngels,Librariansworearmourthatwasblueincoloration,withonlyasinglecrimsonshoulderpad.Itwasanotherfactorthatsetthemapartfromtherestoftheirbrethren,thoughtGallio.Vodenodded.“Asyouorder.”Withcare,thepsykerdrewhisaxebacktoaslingacrosshisarmour,

the tiny licks of cerulean lightning fading from its surface. Vode’s face twitched slightly andsomethingmovedinsidetheneckringofhisbattlearmour.Fromthickbulgesabouthishead,panelsmadeof finecircuitryandcrystalmatricesextended ina tripartitecowl.Galliowatchedwithslightdistasteas thepiecesofVode’spsychichoodconnectedthemselves tobrasssockets in theMarine’sskull.“Doyou…senseanything?”saidthecaptain.Vodegaveaslightsmile.“Allthemyriadwaysofthetraitoraresubtleandcomplex,brother.Iwill

root themout, if they conceal themselveshere.But fornow, there is no—”The expressionon thepsyker ’sfacechangedinaflash;hiseyesnarrowedandhislipsthinnedtoaline.Instinctively,Gallio’shanddroppedtotheboltpistolinhisbeltholster.“BrotherVode?”Thenthemomentwasgone,andtheLibrarianshookhishead.“Apassingshadow,”hesaid.“The

taintoftheWordBearerslingersstillinthisstarsystem,brother-captain.Faint,likefadingsmoke.”TheanswerdidlittletosatisfyGallio.“Thisway,”heindicated.Vode strode after the officer, a frown threatening to form on his face. For an instant, just the

smallestofmoments,thepsykerhadfeltthetouchofsomethingcorrupt.Heranhisfingersoverthetrioofpuritysealsonthebreastofhisarmour,turningthesensationoverinhismind,theweightofanewdoubtpreyingonhim.

ThedroprampoftheThunderhawkopenedlikeayawningmouthandRafenfollowedSolusdownit.Glancingaround thehangarbayof theAmareo,hesawadozenmoreshipsof thesameclass inlaunchcradles,armedandsetforattack.AtroopofSpaceMarinesstoodwaitingforthemintwotightlines, ostensibly anhonourguardbut just as easily a combatunit.TherewereotherBloodAngelsnearby in twos and threes, observing with cold, keen eyes. Rafen’s impression was one ofpreparation;themenaboardAmareowereunsurewhattoexpectonShenlong,andtheyhadtakentobook and bolter in readiness. He felt a curious foreboding; these battle-brothers were here onlybecauseofasecretmessagethathehadsent,andRafenfeltsomemeasureofresponsibilityforthem.Hecaught sightof thedarkhueof aLibrarian’swargear as they set footon the strike cruiser ’s

deck.ThepsykerhoveredattheshoulderofaseniorBloodAngelwhostudiedthemwithahawkishmanner.Solus tapped his fist to the blood-drop symbol on his chest. “Brother Solus andBrotherRafen,

requestingpermissiontocomeaboard.”TheSpaceMarinereturnedthesalute.“Granted.IamCaptainGallio.”HenoddedattheLibrarian.

“EpistolaryVode,myadjutant.”

“Yourarrivalisunexpected,”saidSolus.GalliogaveSolusapenetratingstare.“Ithinkyouknowwhywearehere,brother.Ihavecomeon

theexpressordersofLordCommanderDantehimself,toseewithmyowneyeswhathastranspiredonShenlong.”“YoucometoveneratetheBlessedArkio,yes?”Solusreplied.“Isuspectedasmuch.”“Weshallseewhowillandwillnotbevenerated.”Vodebrokein,hisvoicethickening.Hestudied

SolusandRafenwithopenscrutiny,andbothmenfeltthepressureofhisminduponthem.“Why did you depart Cybele when orders were sent that Bellus should remain there?” Gallio

demanded.Thecaptainwastednotimeincuttingtothecoreofthematter.Solusshookhishead.“Iknowofnosuchorders,CaptainGallio.Mycommander,Brother-Captain

Ideon,followedthedirectivesofInquisitorSteletoweighanchorandmakebestspeedtothissystem.OurordersaftertheroutatCybeleweretocontainanddestroytheWordBearerswarbandhere.”Galliofrowned.“ThosecommandswerenotsanctionedbyBaal.”“Ifthatisso.”Solusretorted,“thenhowdidyouknowtolocateBellushere?”“Amessagewassent to thefortress-monastery,”saidVode.“Thecontentsof thatmessageraised

somequestionsofintegrity.”“ThereareonlyloyalSonsofSanguiniushere.”Solussaidhotly.“Whosentthissignal?Tellme

hisname!”“Brother-SergeantKoris.”“Korisisdead,”saidRafen,unabletokeepanedgeofpainfromhiswords.“Hewaskilledinthe

attackontheIkarifortress.Iwitnessedhimpassfromthislife.”GallioandVodeexchangedglances.“Itisthecontentofthemessagethatisofgravestconcernto

LordDante.Koris,ifitwerehe,spokeofa‘transformation’.ByDante’sorder,Iamtoevaluatethisoccurrenceinthecommander ’sstead.”Rafenfelthisthroattighten.TheLibrarian’seyeshadnotstrayedfromhim,andVode’spowerful

gazemadetheMarinefeellikeatinyspeckswarmingunderthelensofamicroscope.Heknows.TheBloodAngelcouldsenseVode’sinnersightpickingathismind.SolusgesturedattheThunderhawk,hisfacetautwithconcern.“Perhapsyoushouldaccompanyme

backtotheBellus,captain.WecouldprovideyouwithacompletetacticalreportontheCybelebattleand—”“Ifthis‘blessing’ofwhichyouspeakistrue,Iwillnottarrytodebatethematterssurroundingit.”

Galliointerruptedsharply.“Answerme,Solus.WherewillIfindInquisitorRamiusSteleandBrotherArkio?”The Marine’s face darkened with anger. Gallio’s bluntness rankled. “Lord Stele has taken

stewardshipofShenlongfromtheIkarifortressinthecapitaldistrict.ArkiotheBlessedresidesinthechapelthere.”VodebrokeeyecontactandnoddedtotheAmareo’scommander.“Thenthatiswherewewillgo.”Solustookastepforward.“HeistheAngelReborn.Youcannotsimplybidhimtoyourbeckand

call.”“Untilwemakeourdetermination,heisnothingofthekind.”Voderepliedwithicycertainty.Rafen saw an opportunity and spoke again. “Brother Solus, this matter will be resolved with

alacrityifweproceedasCaptainGalliodemands.Withyourpermission,Iwillaccompanythecaptainbacktothesurfacetoassisthim.”SolusgaveGallioahardlook,thenglancedatRafen.“Perhapsyouarecorrect,brother.”Heturned

backtotheThunderhawk.“OncethesemenseetheBlessed,anydisagreeablehesitancywillbecomeredundant.”Hethrewthemalastlookashereachedthehatchway.“IwillreturntoBellusandinformtheinquisitorofyourimpendingarrival.”

RafenturnedawayastherampslammedshuttofindVodewatchinghimonceagain.“Iamatyourcommand,”hesaid.Gallioindicatedashuttlecraftparkednearby.“Thisway.Youwillusethejourneytotellmeallyou

canaboutthisArkio.”“Yes,Rafen,”addedVode.“Wewouldknowmoreofyouryoungersibling.”

ThestatuehadbeenmovedfromthegrandchamberoftheBellusandbroughtdowntothechapel,theretostandinprideofplacebeforethealtar.Withappropriateceremony,theiconoftheEmperorofManhadbeenshiftedbehindthestatue,toweringoveritlikeawatchfulfatherattheshoulderofadutiful son. Arkio ran his bare fingers over the ancient stone. The pinkish marble came from amountainrangeonBaalPrimus.Hetouchedthefaceofthestatue.Thelikenesswasbaringitsthroatinsupplication,eyesclosedand

mouthslightlyopen,neckmusclestaut.Acrownofsculptedjagsaboutthetousledhairof theheadsignifiedthesolarglowofahalo.Arkiofollowedthelineofthenose,thejaw,downtheneckandtothesternum.Ofitsownaccord,hishandcametohisownfaceandtracedthesamecourse.Theshapesofbothweresocloseastobealmostidentical.Hebackedawayastep,takinginthewholestatueoftheBloodAngelSanguinius.Hisseraphwings

archedoverhisshoulders,thePureOneworetherobesofaninitiatepriest—asignofhishumility—andhisarmswereoutstretched.Intheright,hegraspedtheskull-shapeoftheRedGrail,fromwhichfellthefourdropsofbloodthatSanguiniushadshedforhisChapter;hisleftarmwasupturned,andfromthewristfellatorrentofhisblessedvitae.With perfect grace,Arkio balanced on the uppermost step of the altar and raised thewings that

folded fromhis own shoulders.Themighty pinionswere no longer newand strange to him, nowArkio tookhis angelic limbs to be asmuch a part of him as anyother.He extendedhis arms andmimickedtheposeofthestatue,tippingbackhisheadandshowinghisthroat.“Magnificent.”Sachiel’svoicewasthickwithbarelycontainedemotion.Arkioopenedhiseyesand

relaxed as theSanguinaryHighPriest approachedhim.Sachiel dropped into a bow. “Blessed, it isconfirmed.AwarshipfromBaalhastakenupstationalongsideBellusandapartyfromthevesselisonthewayaswespeak.”Arkio bid Sachiel to his feet and listened intently as the priest relayed themessage fromSolus.

“Captain Gallio is joined by Librarian Vode and your brother,” he concluded, a slight annoyancecolouringhistoneatthementionofRafen.TheBloodAngelpaid itnoconcern.“Sosoon,”hemurmured.“Dantehasmovedquicker thanI

had expected…But this shall not be an issue.Give the order to provideGallio’s shuttle a priorityflightcorridor.”Arkioindicatedtheceilingabovethem.“Havehisshipvectoredtothelandingpadontheroofofthefortress.”Sachielswallowedhard.“Mylord,isthatwise?Perhapsitmightbemoreprudenttolandhimatthe

starportandbringthecaptain’spartyhereinaconvoy.Wecould…controlthemmoreeasilyif thecircumstancesrequiredit.”Arkioshookhishead.“Whatwillcometopass,willcome.IwilllookGalliointheeyeandoffer

himnothingbutthetruth.Wherehegoesfromtherewillbehischoicealone.”The priest hesitated. “Blessed, as ever you exhibit the wisdom of the Great Angel, but I must

confessIfearthereactionofthesenewarrivals.”ThechapeldoorsopenedasSachielspoketoadmitInquisitorSteleandthedriftingshapesofhis

servo-skulls.“Iwilladdmyvoice tomycomrade’s,”saidSteleasheapproached.“Hespeakswithconcernforyouandourenterprises,Arkio.”“Thank you for attendingme,” saidArkio. “Iwould notwish to proceedwithout your counsel,

Stele.”Theinquisitorgaveagraciousnod.“Forgivemydelay,butIwasmeditating…”Hepattedhisbrow

withakerchief; therewasa thinsheenofperspirationcoatinghisbullet-likehead fromhismentalexertionsinthedeathroom.Arkiostudiedbothmen.“Yourconsiderationsarenoted,butIstandbymyorder.GallioandVode

willcomeheretome,andIwillanswerallquestions.”Hestraightened,glancingbackatthestatueofSanguinius.“ItismydutytotheChapter.”“Ofcourse.”Steledemurred,“andtothatend,mightIsuggestweproceedasceremonydemands?I

haveassembledthehonourguardtoattendyou.”Arkiogavehimacursorynodandsteppedaway,walkingtothebalconywherethebattletrialsstill

ragedbelow.Sachiel leantclose toStele’sear. “Themoment isuponus, lord inquisitor,”he saidquietly.“We

willknowwheretheloyaltiesofDante’smenlie.”“Indeed.”Stelepurred.“Arkiohopesforthebest,butwe…wemustpreparefortheworst.”“Ofthat,thereisnoquestion,”repliedthepriest,hiseyesbrightwithrighteousfervour.

“I sent the message.” Rafen watched the play of emotions over Gallio’s face as the captainconsideredhiswords. “AsKoris lay indeath, Iusedhisvox to transmit a signal to theBellus andbeyond.”“Subterfuge,”saidVodegrimly.“Whatyouhavedoneviolatesprotocolsofdisciplineandrituals

ofthefallen.”Rafengavearuefulnodas theshuttlerumbledthroughtheatmosphere.“Iamonly tooawareof

that.”“Thestricturesareclear,onlyaTechmarinemayhandlethewargearofthedeceasedinanything

otherthanthemostdesperateofcircumstances.”Gallioreplied.“ThefutureofourChapterisinthebalance,”Rafensnapped,alittlemorefiercelythanhewould

haveliked.“Whatcouldbemoredesperate?”GallioconsideredtheMarine’swords.“Theissueofyouractionsissecondarytotheissueathand,

Rafen.Anydecisionthatyoumayormaynothavebehavedimproperlyisdeferred,forthemoment.”Helookedaway.“WhatyouhavetoldusofthischangeinArkio…itisremarkable.”Vodenodded.“Aye.Andterrifyingaswell.Isenseforcesatworkherethatreachbeyondmyability

todefine.Great powers,moving into conjunction.”TheLibrarian’s handshad strayed to his forceaxe,unconsciouslykneadingthegrip.Gallio noted the psyker ’s small sign of agitation but let it pass unremarked. “Rafen, youwould

knowArkiobetterthananyman.Thesephysicalchangesofwhichyouspeakareshockingenough,buthissoul…Iaskyou,whenyoulookintoyourbrother ’seyes,whatdoyousee?”AninvoluntaryshudderpassedthroughtheSpaceMarine’smassiveframe.“Whenwewereyouths,

itwasIthatwastherecklessone,captain.Arkiowasopenandguileless,hewaspureofspirit…Itwashisinfluencethathelpedmetoturnmyways, theyoungerhelpingtheelder.”Foramoment,Rafenlosthimselfinreverie.“Now…nowthatyouthisgone.ItisstillArkio’ssoulthatlivesbehindthoseeyes,brother, if thatitwhatyoutrulywishtoknow…Butforall thechangeswroughtuponhiminthesepassingweeks,itishismannerthatismostaltered.”“Explain,”demandedVode,tensioninhisvoice.Arkioisarrogantnow,wherebeforehewashumble.“Whateverthehandthatguideshisnewpath

maybe,Arkiohimselfbelievesinit.Withinthehallsofhisheart,hehasnodoubtthatheistheDeusEncarmine.”“Andifwemustdisabusehimofthatbelief.”Galliosaid,“whatthen?”

Rafenfoundhecouldnotlookthecaptainintheeyeanylonger.“Idreadtothink,”hesaid.“Idreadtothink.”In the long silence that followed, the shuttle’s deck canted as the craft dropped through thick

cloudbanksanddownoverthefactorysprawls.“Weareclose.”Vodesaidabruptly.GalliogaveRafenalast,measuringlook,andthensignalledtheothermeninhispersonalguard.

“Prepareforlanding.”

Ablack-armoured figurestoodwaiting for themas theystrodeoff theshuttlepad,Gallio’s fourmeninalinebehindthecaptain,VodeandRafen.TheChaplainsalutedtheofficerandtheLibrarian,throwingRafenawarynod.“IamBrotherDelos.WelcometoShenlong,CaptainGallio.Itisanhonourtoreceiveawarriorof

suchnotedstandingwithintheChapter.”Gallio ignored the greeting, and held out a metallic scroll case. “I carry the letter of Lord

CommanderDante.Inthisplace,Ispeakforhim.Chaplain,IwouldseethewarriorArkio.”Delos faltered for amoment, eyes flicking to the scroll case, then toRafen and finally back to

Gallio. “As you wish, captain. The Blessed will receive you in the fortress chapel.” He turned.“Followme.”Rafen remained silent as they ventured down through the Ikari fortress, boarding the recently

repaired elevator platform to descend to the core levels. For the second time that day, he felt thepressureofscrutinyfromeyesallaroundhim.AstheypassedgroupsofMarines,helotsandscatteredpacksofpilgrims,conversationsfellsilentandbarelyconcealedsuspiciongreetedthemateveryturn.“Theyknowwehavecometojudgehim.”Vodehissed.“Theyresentusforevenconsideringthe

fact.”Thecopperdoorsofthechapelopenedtoadmitthem,andGalliostrodeboldlypastDelostoenter

first.Arkio came to his feet from the daiswhere he sat and the shock of the sight of him almoststaggeredthecaptaintoahalt.“Emperor ’sblood!”Galliobreathed.Itwasaliving,breathingrenderingofSanguiniusthatstood

there,wingsbrightassun-fire,thegoldenarmouraglowwithhoneyedradiance.ArkioinclinedhisheadingreetingandGalliofoundhimselfphysicallyresistingtheurgetokneel.Apalpableenergyofpersonalitycrackledintheair,drawingallthingstoArkio.“BytheThrone,itisthePureOne.”ItwasoneofGallio’smenthathadspoken,hisvoicehushed

andreverent.Vodesmotheredhiswordswithavenomous rejoinder.“That remains tobeseen.”TheLibrarian

still grippedhis force axe; itwas not quite in a battle-ready stance, but close enough tomake anyseasonedwarriorwaryofhim.Rafenfeltahandonhisshoulder.Delosdrewhimbacktohaltatthedoorwayofthechapel.“Stand

down, lad.This is for theBlessed to decide.”He hesitated asArkio approached themen from theAmareo.Beyond his brother, Sachiel looked onwith obvious impatience, while Stele stood in theshadows.Theinquisitorseemedmuted,eyesdistantandunfocussed.“IamArkio,”hebegan.“Igreetyouasabrother, andhonouryouasLordDante’sproxy.”The

figureingoldgaveashallowbow,thetipsofhiswingstouchingthemosaicfloor.“Whatwouldyouaskofme?”“Thetruth.”Gallioreplied.“Toknowwhatforcehasbroughtyouto…”Hehesitated,searchingfor

therightwords,“tothistransformation.”Sachielboltedforwardfromthealtar,anintenseexpressioncolouringhisface.“Whatforce?”he

repeated.“Eventheblindknowtheanswertothatquestion.Doyounotseehimbeforeyou?Heisthe

BlessedAngelReborn.”Sachiel’seyesshone.“Sanguineushasreturned.”“AllofuscarrythevitaeoftheGreatAngelwithinus.”VodesnappedangrilyatArkio,“butwedo

notclaimtousurphisplace.Ourprimarchliesmillenniadead,yetyoupresumetotakehisname!”Arkiogaveagentleshakeofthehead.“Ipresumenothing.Asyouasked,soIofferonlytruth.”“Your truth,” saidGallio.“Ifyouarewhatyousayyouare, thenyouwill accompanyusback to

Baal,where theveracityofyour claimwillbeput to thequestion.Youwill release thisworldandInquisitor Stele will return governorship of Shenlong to the Imperium.”He paused. “CommanderDantegivesthisorder,andyouaretoheedit.”Rafen’s gaze happened on Stele; the Hereticus agent rubbed his brow, his gaze fixed on the

LibrarianVode.TheBloodAngellookedtothepsykerandsawhimtensewithfury.ThenArkiosaidthewordsthatRafenfearedthemost.“IambeyondDante’sauthoritynow.”“Heretic!”Thecurse exploded fromVode’s lips, his dark skin shadingwith rage. “Thehandof

Chaoshideshere.Youareimpure!”TheLibrarian’swordssentashockthroughthechapel,andwhitelightningcrashedacrossthefloor.IthappenedsofastthatRafensawonlyablurofblueandyellow.VodesprangatArkio,hisforceaxeflaringwithpsy-flame.Thecurvedblademetthegauntletofthegoldartificerarmouranddeafeningthunderassailedhisears.

CHAPTERFOUR

Vode’smindwasdrowninginthickstreamsofglutinoushatredandblack,oilydarkness.Atfirst,inthatmomentaboardthestrikecruiser,hehadthoughtnothingofthebriefcontactthathadwaftedoverhis psychic senses, passing like a diaphanousveil.There onebreath, vanished the next.Themind-spaceaboutShenlongwas stilldirtywith thepassageof theWordBearers, theirdisgustingmentalfootprints likeprofanescarsonlyvisible toapsykersuchashe.Thebrightpurityofhisforceaxewasacomforttohim.Itwasatalisman,abadgeoftheSpaceMarine’scharmedlifeintheEmperor ’sservice.VodelistenedtoRafen’swordsastheyapproachedtheIkarifortress,outwardlyfixedontheBlood

Angel’sface,butinside,hispreternaturalintuitionbuzzedlikeawarningsiren,louderandlouderinhisearsastheycameeverclosertothechapel.TheLibrariantriedtoholdontothesensations,tocuptheminhishandsandmakesomesortofsensetothem—butitwasliketryingtopickouttheperfumeofasingleblackorchidthroughaseaofcharnelhousestench.Andtheninthechapel,helaideyesonthegoldenarmourandknewinstinctivelythathehadfoundhiswaytotheepicentreofthisgreatskeinof corruption. The Blood Angels psyker had faced this breed of witch-kind before: outwardlyflawless,perfectandbeautiful.Withintheywererottedcorpse-flesh,maggotyheartspumpingspoiledbloodthroughbonevoids.Hestruggledtobanish the image,blinkingitaway.Forasecond,everythingseemedtoshiftand

waver, and part of him cried out, No! Deceit laced the air. He glimpsed the man from the OrdoHereticus across the stone floor, half-clad by shadows. For an instant, it seemed as if he, not thewingedone,was thesourceofall thedarknesshere.ConfusioncreasedVode’sbrow;hehad tobesure.Then, as quickly as it was there, the impression fled and the hissing pressure behind his eyes

returnedintenfoldforce.VodelookedatArkioasthearmouredfigurespokeinsilkytonestoCaptainGallio.Thepsykersawtwovisionsofhim,oneovertheother,eachwarringforprominenceinhismind’s eye. There was the Reborn Angel, a new Sanguinis glorious and unblemished in his holyperfection,radiantastheThroneofTerraitself,andtherewastheother.Itturnedhisstomachtoseeit.Thegoldarmourwasscarredanddull,blackwithshedblood.There

werenoeyes in thefaceofcracked,whiteporcelain,onlypitsofemptyspace;and thewings, foulthingsflensedofskinandbarbedwithhooksandbrokenrazors.ItspokeandthenoisemadeVode’sbilerisetohisthroat.“IambeyondDante’sauthoritynow,”itjeered.IftheothersinthechapelsawArkioashedid,thentheywereeitherstruckdumbbyhisawfulness

orelsebewitchedbytheapostate’sillusorybeauty.FromthecornerofhiseyehesawSteletwitch,butthesurgeinhatethatflowedthroughhimatthesamemomentmadetheinquisitorseemimmaterial.Ifnomanherecouldorwouldact,thenitwasonlyVodethatcouldendthisparodyoftheprimarch’smajesty.ThethunderousheatoftheblackragecameuponhimandtheLibrariansentitcracklingintothehaftofhis forceaxe.Heshoutedhismaledictionat the topofhis lungs. “Heretic.ThehandofChaoshideshere.Youareimpure!”Vode’s weaponmoved as if it were guided by the hand of the God-Emperor himself, cutting a

flashing arc toward the skull of the pretender. Every ounce of mind-power from his Quickeningchannelledintotheforceaxe.“Hellspawn!”hespat.ThecrystalbladestruckArkio’swrist-guardwith

aroarofrendedair.Likewaterpouringoffaglassdome,theblue-whitepsy-firefellawayfromtheaxehead,streakingaroundArkioinharmlessrivulets.Aninvulnerablesphereofcrimsonandgolddancedaroundhimattheedgeofperception,thehalobluntingVode’sattackintonothing.

Sachiel’sreductorwasinhishandastheLibrarianstruck,dancing,searchingforatarget.Allabouthim, Arkio’s golden-helmed honour guard brought up their weapons on reflex, and he glimpsedGallio’s retinuedoing thesame.TheAmareo’scaptainwascryingout, reachingwithonehand,hisother skimming toward thebutt of his holsteredbolt pistol.Avoicewas shouting from the chapeldoors,anindistinctredman-shapeturninginthegripofablackfigure;allthisinaheartbeat.Arkio’s other hand came up and punched Vode away. The epistolary flew backwards, boots

scrapingacrossthestoneashestruggledtokeephisbalance.Withaneyebrowarched,Arkioreachedfor the forceaxewhere it rested, lodgedbetweenplatesofgold.TheBlessed removed theweaponand,withatighteningofhisfist,broketheaxehandleintwo.Vodescreamedandthrewacurtainoflightningathim,racingbacktoleapatArkio’sbarethroat,

fangsflashing.Again,theQuickeningpartedaroundhisgoldenformandheshotoutahand.Arkio’sdart-sharpfingersimpaledtheceramitechestplateofVode’spowerarmourandburiedthemselvestotheknuckle.TheLibrarian’sbolterwasinhisgrip,and,evenasbloodbubbledfromhismouth,Vodeletshellfirecrashoutandflareacrosstheroom.Unaimed,heedlessboltsskippedclosetoSachielandtheshockbroughthimtoaction.Helungedat

Gallio with the reductor, clipping the Blood Angels captain’s scalp. No word of command wasuttered, butwith the priest’s gesture a tiny hellwas unleashed in the chapel. TheBloodAngels ofArkio’s honour guard and Gallio’s detachment alike opened fire on one another, burning roundslancingbackandforthacrosstheroominascreamingwebofdeath.“No!”ThecrywasRafen’s,butitsankunheardunderatidalwaveofgunfire,andwithstrengththat

beliedhisage,theChaplainDelosshovedhimbackfromthefray.ArkioflickedVode’scorpsefromhishandlikeadiscardedpieceofmeat,aloofasbulletskeened

andhummedoffhisgoldenceramitechest.Gallio’s troop,outnumbered two tooneby thehonourguards, danced and spun asmultiple bolter shells tore through their battlegear and cut them apart.Galliowasthelasttofall,thickarterialbloodrunninginriversfromeveryjointinhisarmour.Hispistoldroppedfromnervelessfingersandthecaptainsanktohisknees,eyesglazing.ArkiocametohimandcuppedGallio’schininhishand.“Youhavebroughtmyworstfeartolife,”

hetoldthedyingman.“Youwillnotbethelasttoperish.”The captaingaspedout a final breath, andwith that itwas ended; the entire exchangehad lasted

hardlyatickoftheclock.RagefilledRafenandhepunchedDelos, turning theblack-armouredChaplainwith theblow.He

forced hisway through the ranks of gold-helmedmen and down to the blood-slickmosaic floor.Suddenlyamongthedead,hefeltlikeweeping.“What…”Hecouldbarelyspeak.“Whathaveyoudone?”Arkio looked him squarely in the eye and Rafen’s veins filled with ice. “These men,” said his

sibling, casting anoffhandwave at the steaming corpses, “theywerehere todestroyus, kindred. Iknewitfromthemomenttheyenteredtheroom.”Heglancedup,addressingeveryBloodAngelinthechapel. “Hearme,brothers.Wehavebeen forsaken.Thesemencame tocondemn,not toknowme.”“Therewas tobenoquestionof truth,” saidSachiel, takingup thecall. “Gallio’spsykerwasan

assassin.DantefearstheBlessedAngel,hefearsthethreatthatArkiorepresents.”“Youhavekilledourbattle-brothers,”Rafensaidinadeadvoice.Arkioshookhishead,aflickerofhurtinhiseyes.“No,Rafen.Noneofthesemenwerebrothersto

me,ortoanyofus.IntheirbloodIseetherealtruthofit.Dantedeniesme.”Fromthealtarcameastrangledchoke,andStelestumbledforward,his facedrawnandwetwith

perspiration.Hiseyesbulgingwitheffort, the inquisitorgasped forair.Rafen felt the sameactinictangofpsyker-taintintheair,justashehadwhenSteletorturedtheWordBearersprisonertheyhadcapturedonCybele.“Lord.”Sachielsaid.“Whatiswrong?”“The ship…” Stele choked. “May be more of Vode’s kind…More aboard the ship… don’t let

them…”SachielmetArkio’sgazeandthefigureingoldgavehimasharpnod.“Iwillnotputanymoreof

mybrethrenatrisk.”Arkiocockedhisheadandspokeintoahiddenvoxpick-upathisneck.“Bellus,heedme.”Theshockofhisbrother ’sintentstartledRafen.“Arkio,youcannot—”Sachielinterposedhimself

betweenthetwosiblings,blockingRafen’soutstretchedhand.Arkioglancedathim.Theweightofagesglitteredinhiseyes.“Bellus,”hesaid,hisvoiceinstantly

carried to Captain Ideon aboard the battle barge, “Captain Gallio and his men have revealedthemselvesastraitorstothewayofSanguinius.WeshallnotsuffertheAmareotolive.”Rafen’s breath caught in his throat, and for onemoment of hope he believed that Ideonwould

refusesuchacommand;thebrother-captainwasaveteranwarrior,notazealotsoeasilyswayedasSachiel.Then that hope guttered out and died. “Your will, Blessed,” said Ideon, his voice distant and

mechanicalthroughthevox.

Highabove them, thebattle barge’s starboard side rippledwith activity as cannonhatches irisedopenandgunsranoutonfiringcradles.Missilebatteries,lancesandlascannontwistedincupolasandturrets,findingtheblade-likeprofileoftherapidstrikecruiserAmareointheirsights.Inalliedspace,withnothreattobedetermined,thecruiser ’scommandingofficerhadplacednopowertotheship’svoid shields and so Amareowas naked to the unleashed fire of a ship that dwarfed her by fiftymagnitudesoftonnage.Ideondidnotflinchfromtheorder;theconceptofsuchathoughtneveronceentered his mind. He had seen Arkio with what remained of his own eyes, tasted the coruscatingpowerofhisaurathroughthesensorwebof theBellus.Thebrother-captainhadnodoubts,andhefired.Itwasasmallmercy,perhaps,thatthemenaboardtheothershipneversawtheattackcoming.They

died without knowing where the blow had come from, lives snuffed out in an instant. Amareoexplodedbeneathahellstormofenergy,andonceagainthebattlebargewasaloneintheskiesoverShenlong.

Rafensatattheedgeofthechapelchamber,ontheshallowstepsleadingdowntothemosaicfloor,and he found he could notmove.A distant flash ofmemory returned to him as he sat there, eyesunfocussed and shoulders hunched. As a boy, when his journey to Angel’s Fall was still a dozencycles away, Rafen had become separated from the tribe during amigration. As a sandstorm haddescendedonhim, the childhadbecomedisoriented and lost,wandering through the stingingdustcloudsuntilatlasthebeachedhimselfonarockyoutcroppingandwaitedfortheendtocome.Hourspassed as he stared out into the roiling storm, and the lad had known thenwhat it was like to bedwarfedbytheforceofthingslargerthanhewas.Againstthestorm,hisfleshandbonewereineffectual;therealisationofhisownpowerlessnesshad

soberedhim.Rescuehadcome,eventually.HisfatherAxanemergedfromthecloudsandcarriedhimtosafety—butRafenhadneverforgottenthehollowknowingthatthestormhadforceduponhim.

Hereandnow,withthestinkofspentcorditeandspilledbloodstilllingeringintheair,hefeltthatsensationalloveragain.Forallhisprowess,allthestrengthandfortitudegrantedtohimasaSpaceMarine,Rafenfeltpowerlessandweakasevents rumbledonoverhim,crushinghimbeneath theirpassage.HelookedbutdidnotseethebodiesofGallio,Vodeandtheothers.TheBloodAngelfeltempty inside, like the tin icons he had seen in the street urchin’s box. Itwas his audacity that hadsummonedtheAmareotoShenlong,hisdaringtosendthesecretmessagetoCommanderDante,andnowhisownwarrior-kinweredead.IfIhadkeptmysilence,thesemenwouldstillhealive,hisinnervoicetormented,theirbloodisonmyhands.Sachiel summoned a gaggle of servitors. “Take these traitors and put them to the torch,” he

ordered.“TheyshallnotsoilthepresenceoftheBlessedonemomentlonger.”Arkio knelt on one knee close toGallio’s remains, studying the shattered face of the deadman.

“Wait,”hesaidquietly.Hiswordswerealmostawhisper,buttheycarriedlikeathunderclap.“Priest,youwillharvesttheprogenoidglandsofthesemenandseethempreservedwithourfallenaboardtheBellus!”“My lord?” Sachiel blinked. “But these recreants have proven themselves unworthy of your

beneficence—theyopposedyou.”Arkio’sfacewasdownturned.“Inlife,yes.Butperhapsindeaththeycanbebornanewtothewillof

Sanguinius.”Stelemoppedhisbrowwithadelicatekerchief.“YoutrulyaretheAngel’sSon,Arkio.Eveninthe

faceofaturncoat,youshowforgiveness…”Thefigureingoldarmourraisedhishead;tearsglitteredonhisface.“Iweepforthedestinylost,

LordStele,”hetoldhim.“Thesemenmighthavestoodbesideusiftheyhadbeengrantedthechoice.Instead,Dantehasindoctrinatedthemwithhisfear.Fearofme!”The inquisitor spied the silent Rafen from the corner of his eye, but he continued on toArkio.

“Blessed,itisasIhadexpectedittobe.WhilethewilloftheGod-Emperorwouldmakeourspeciesmastersofthegalaxy,therearethosewhoturnhiswordstotheirownselfishends…”Hehesitated,breathinghard.TheeffortStelehadexpendedinfluencingVode’smindhadlefthimweakened.“Thenoblepurposeof the Imperium is smotheredunder theprejudiceofmenwith limitedvision…andyou,youaretheembodimentofathreattothat.”Hegesturedtothedead.“Hereisproofofit.”“Whatdoes thismean?”Delosvoiced thequestionon themindsof all theSpaceMarines in the

room.Eachof themhavingseenthemiracleofArkio’sEmergencethemselves, theyhadnodoubtsabout rallying to his side, but the bloody line they had crossed this day gave each and every onepause.LiketheChaplain,theylookedtoArkioforguidance.Sachiel spoke for him. “Itmeans there is a schism in ourChapter, brothers. CommanderDante

soughtnot to learn fromtheBlessed,but to judgehimaswantingandputhimto thesword.DantedeniestheAscension,andhemustbeforcedtoseetheerrorofhisways.”“Ihavemetthecommander,”saidDelos,“andinhiseyesIsawamannoteasilyswayed.Ifhewill

notrecantandjointhebannerofGreatArkio,whatthen?”Sachielscannedtheroom,meetingtheeyesofeverymanthere—allexceptRafen.“Allthosewho

opposethedominionoftheRebornAngelarefaithless,andtheydonotdeservetobearthehallowedlegacy of Sanguinius. The only reward for those men is to share in the fate of Gallio and hisassassins.”AnotherMarine spokeup. “Whatyou suggest…”hewashesitant andafraid, “it is tantamount to

civilwar.WewouldbeforcedtoturnagainstthoseofourownChapter.”“Look around you, comrade brothers,” Stele broke in. “Your hand has been forced. You have

alreadydonethat!”TheinquisitorstabbedafingeratthebrokenremainsofVode’sforceaxe.“Theycame to kill. They came to murder Arkio in order to preserve Dante’s command of the Blood

Angels.”“ButVodewasadecoratedwarrior,”saidDelos.“Hewouldnotsimply—”“Brother,”saidArkio,andtheChaplaininstantlyfellsilent.“Thepsykerlookeduponmeandsaw

nothingbutmurder.”Delosgaveaslownod.“Forgiveme,Blessed.Asyousay,soitis.”With an abrupt flash ofmovement,Rafen came to his feet. “Sowhat now,my brothers?Dowe

declare a holywar against our ownkind?Shallwe take up arms and lead an invasion toBaal, orperhapseventoTerraitself?”“Becareful,Rafen—”Sachielbegan,butArkiosilencedhimwithalook.“No,no,priest.Rafen’s

questionsdeserveanswers.”“Wemustnotfollowthispath,Arkio.”Rafen’svoicewasdesperate.“Turnbackandreject it.We

cannothavewaramongtheBloodAngels—ifwefightamongstourselves,wewillbedestroyedassurelyasifourenemieswipedusfromexistence.”Steletookashudderingbreath,watchingthetwomencarefully.Thefuturecametoabalancepoint

hereinthismoment;theinquisitor ’sdelicateplanswerecaughtlikeaflyinamber.Arkio’sresponsetohisbloodbrotherwouldeitherreleasethemorshatterStele’scarefulmachinationsutterly.“Asever,myelderkinsmancutstotheheartofthematter,andforthatIamgrateful.”Heshookhis

head.“No,Rafen,IdonotwishtosowinsurrectionamongourChapter.Thismattermustberesolvedbefore more blood is shed. You are right, we must strive against war.” Arkio turned to Sachiel.“Dante’sproxywishedtobringmeinchains toBaalwhereIcouldbeproddedandtoyedwith likesomeaddledmutant.Iwillnotsubmittothat.”“Whatdoyousuggest,Blessed?”thepriestreplied.“Selectalocationinneutralterritory,”heordered.“Findaworldwherewecanmeetface-to-face,

onequalterms.SendDanteamessagethatIwishtoresolvethisdivisionbetweenus.”HeglancedatRafen,eyesafire.“IwouldnothaveembracedthegloryoftheDeusEncarmineonlytoseeitspentturningBloodAngelagainstBloodAngel.”“Yourwillbedone.”Sachielbowed.“Andwhatofourfollowersamongthecommoners?”Arkiocameuptohisfullheightandstrodetowardtheornateglassteeldoorsthatledtothechapel’s

balcony.“IwilladdressthepeopleandmyWarriorsoftheReborn.Theydeservetounderstandwhathas transpiredhere today, and towhere itmay take them.”Honourguardsopened thedoors as heapproached.“Ishalltakemythousandwithme,”hedeclared,“andthenontoBaal.”ArkiosteppedoutintothewansunlightofShenlong’sdayandtheadulationofthecrowdsblottedoutallothersound.Rafenwatchedhissiblingbaskintheglowoftheirreverence.“Doyouseekdeath?”saidavoice

close to his ear, and he turned to face Sachiel. The Sanguinary High Priest was standing at hisshoulder,hisfaceredwithrestrainedanger.“Itwouldbemypleasuretoprovideittoyou,ifthatiswhatyouwish.”HeignoredSachiel’sloadedreductor,thereinhisgrip.AllothereyeswereonArkioashebegan

hisspeechtothefactorycity.“Whatareyouafraidof,priest?”hesaidinalowvoice.“IsyourfaithinArkiosofragilethatthebreathofmyvoicecouldsendittumbling?”Sachiel’sfaceclouded.“Itisyouwhoiswithoutconviction!”hehissed.“Eveninthefaceoffact,

yourefusetogiveyourselffullytoArkio’sfealty.”“Itookhisoath—”“Didyou?”Thepriestproddedhimin thechest.“Didyoutake it inhere?”Rafenhesitatedfora

split-second,andSachielgaveatwistedsmile.“Ithoughtnot.”Movement caught theMarine’s eye; unseen byArkio and the others, the inquisitor was silently

making hisway through the shady cloisters of the chapel, toward the copper doors. “I am a loyalBlood Angel and a Son of Sanguinius.” Rafen said to the priest, in tones filled with absolute

conviction.“Thathasneverbeenindoubt.”Now itwasSachiel’s turn tohesitate. “I… Ihavebeen thePureOne’smostpious servant for as

manyyearsasyou,Rafen.”“Yes.”Rafenagreed,“butpietyalonemayblindyou.”HepushedSachiel’spistolawayandstepped

pasthim,followingSteleoutof thechamber.“Rememberthat, thenexttimeyouaredrawntoshedanotherbrother ’sblood.”Rafen left thepriest standingalone.Sachiel’sbrowfurrowedandhecradled the reductor, losing

himselfinthefinetoolingandcurvesofthesanctifieddevice.InthedepthsoftheSanguinaryHighPriest’smind,thesmallestsplintersofdoubtlaywaiting.

TheeffortofeachstepwasweighingheavilyonSteleashemovedthroughtheshadowedcorridorsofthefortress,acasualobserverwouldhaveseennothingamiss,perhapsaslighthurryinhiswalk,adeepnessinhisbreathing.HewasacredittohisOrdoHereticustraining.Theinquisitorwasfatigued,farmoresothanhedaredtoshowtoArkioandtheBloodAngels.Theirkindwereanimalpredators.Theycouldsmellweaknesslikethescentofanopenwound.Hisperformancehadreachedacriticalphaseandhecouldnotaffordtobeseenaswanting.Stelepausedforamomentandpattedathisbrowoncemorewithhiskerchief,rubbingattheaquila

electoo.Theknotsoftensioninhismuscleswerewaning,buthestillachedfromthesheerphysicaleffortofexpendinghispsychicreservesonVode.Hetookadeepbreath.TherehadbeenaflashthereinthechapelwhenStele’skeenpsychicfocushadslipped,justforasecond.Theepistolaryinstantlyknewit,andturnedhisinnereyeontheinquisitor,foronebriefmomentseeinghimforwhathewas—themanipulatorbehindtheunfoldingevents.Stele’swholeplanhadalmostunravelledrightthere;ifVodehadrealizedthatitwashe,notArkio,thatwasthesourceofthedarkenergiesintheroom,theinquisitorwouldhavediedontheendofVode’saxe.Thankthewarp,itwasnotso,he toldhimself.Stelemanagedtorecover,pressingVodetoturnhisireonArkiooncemore,andthingshadunfoldedastheyweremeantto.WhileheconjuredsheetsofinvisibleforcetoprotecttheyoungSpaceMarine,Sachielandtheothershadfollowedthepatternslaidoutforthemandtakenthingstotheirconclusion.Theactorswereplayingtheirparts,justashehadforeseenit.ThechambersStelehad takenashis livingquarterswerenearby,andasheapproachedhecould

alreadyfeelhisstrengthstartingtoreturn;still,hewouldneedtotakearestingtranceinordertobeready for the next progression. He allowed himself a smile. That was the beauty of his plan, theinquisitorconsidered,theperfectionofallthebestschemes.ItwasnotthatSteleforcedthesementoveer from theirchosenpathbysheerbrutecoercion.Suchaperformance lackedsubtletyandelan.No,Stele’sskillscameinthegentlepush,thehoneyedwordinthedoubtingear.Hisexpertisewasingently guiding the righteous and honourable into places where it became easy for them to makequestionable choices.Men likeArkioandSachiel.The inquisitorwould lead themoveronemoralline,thenanotherandanother,untiltheyweresetonapathtodamnation.Hehaddoneitmanytimes;hewasgoodat it.But thiswouldbehisgreatestwork.Before ithad

beenmen,sometimesnations,thatheledastray.Arkio,Sachiel,theBloodAngels…toturnaChapteroftheEmperor ’smostloyalMarineswouldbehiscrowningglory.Thedoortohischambersopenedunderhishand,butStelehesitated.Hefeltapresencecloseby.

Inwardly he frowned. Someone was shadowing him, following him through the dim halls of thefortress.Hadhebeenrecovered,athisfullcapacity,hewouldhavesensedthewatcherautomatically,buthisweariedmindstillbuzzedwithfatigue.Carefultoensurehegavenosignofawarenesstohisobserver,heenteredtheroomandallowedthedoortoremainopenbehindhim.

ThehandofChaoshideshere.Thewords turnedoverandover inRafen’smindashekeptpace

withStele, careful to keep out of the inquisitor ’s line of sight.Hehad seen theway thatVodehadstared at Stele in the chapel, the momentary look of pure revulsion on his face. What had theLibrarianseen?Rafen’sgutcrawledatthethoughtofthemind-witcherythatpassedbetweenthetwomen.AsmuchashedislikedthearrogantSachiel,RafencouldnotbringhimselftobelievethattheSanguinaryPriestwouldallyhimselfwiththeRuinousPowers,andforallthechangesthathadbeenwroughtonArkio,hissiblingrefusedtoconsiderhimatraitor.Stele.He lurked in thebackground, concealedandyetvisible, always therewithawordordeed

when a choice presented itself. SergeantKoris had died cursing him, and once againRafen foundhimselfwonderingwhatinsighthisoldmentorhadgainedinthethroesofthedeadlyredthirst.TheBloodAngelsawtheopendoorandslippedthroughit.Inside,theroomwasmuted.Thelast

fadingstreaksofthin,waterydaylightmanagedtopushthroughthickbrocadecurtainstoilluminateasuiteofrooms,dissipatingasthesundroppedbelowtheindustrialhorizon.ThishadoncebeenthedomainofShenlong’sgovernor,andStelehadclaimeditashisplanetsideresidenceinthedaysafterthedeathoftheDarkApostleIskavan.Rafenhoveredclosetoanarrayoftalltapestriesthatdepictedthehistoryoftheforge-world,fromitsdiscoveryinthedistantpasttotheconsecrationoftheplanetasaweaponsmanufactory.“Don’tstandonceremony,Rafen.”Stele’svoiceseemedtocomefromeverywhereatonce.“Come

in.”TheMarine’s face twisted in a scowl, but he did as he was bid. Stele emerged from a pool of

shadowsonthefarsideofthewideroom.Thelightfromthewindowrenderedhiminshadesofgrey,likeacharcoalsketchondullpaper.“Haveyoucometokillme,Rafen?”heaskedconversationally.“Doyouwishmydeath?”Rafen scanned the room for any signsof the inquisitor ’s hovering servo-skulls and found them

hummingquietlyintheeaves,crystaleyesintent.Theneedlesofsmall-borelas-gunstrackedhimashemoved.“Wouldyourmurderendthismadness,inquisitor?”hereplied.“Madness?”Stelerepeated,takingaseat inalargechair.“Isthatwhatyouseeintheplansofthe

Blessed?”Hecoveredhisexhaustionwellashesat.“NotsincetheHorusHeresyhasAstartesturneduponAstartes,yetIsawthesamecrimeunfoldin

thechapel.”Rafen’sjawhardenedwithanger.“Youdidnothingtostopit.”Stele cocked his head and gave a shallow nodwithout speaking. Slowly, carefully, he began to

gatherinwhatremainedofhismentalfortitude.Rafendidnotnotice.“IsitnotthecodeoftheOrdoHereticustoseekoutandpurgethatwhichfalls

fromtheEmperor ’sLight?”“AreyousuggestingthatArkioisaheretic,Rafen?”“I…”TheMarinefalteredatthequestion,unwillingtovoicesuchathing.“Hispath…Itwilllead

onlytodarknessanddeath.”Theinquisitormadeanoiseofdismissal.“Considerthis,Rafen.PerhapsitisnotArkiowhoisthe

apostate,butDante.”Rafen’seyesflaredwithbrightfury.“Youdaretoprofanethelordcommander ’sname?”Hishands

bunchedintofists.“Perhapsitisyouwhoistheagentofdisorderhere.”He expected the inquisitor to become enraged, but instead Stele fixed him with a strong,

unwaveringgaze.Therewasalookinhiseyesthatmightalmosthavebeenpity.“Comradebrother,”hebegan,inafatherlyvoice,“weareatajunctureofhistory,youandI.Itisnodishonourtobeawedbyeventssuchas those thathave takenplace inrecentweeks.Yourbrother ’srise toascendancyonCybele,theEmergencethatyouwerewitnesstointhemanufactorium…Lessermenwouldbebrokenundertheweightofsuchthings.”Rafenfelthiswordsofreplydyinginhisthroat,hisangerfading.

“Butyou,Rafen,youareatadifferentcrossroads.YourchoiceisonethatnootherBloodAngelfaces. You cannot go forward without first resolving it.” Stele’s voice never rose in volume, butseemedtogrowtofilltheroom,pressinginontheyoungBloodAngelfromallsides.“Youarefilledwithquestionsandconfusion,”theinquisitorcontinued.Unbidden,Rafennoddedtohimself.Thedoubts,theunendingdistrustthathehadcarriedsincethe

battleforCybelereturnedtohimallatonce.Likeablack,suffocatingcoil,thedarkthoughtsunfoldedfromthedeepsofhissoul.Rafenstaggeredbackastep;suddenly,hefelttheconsequenceofthemlikeaphysicalforce.“Whydoyoucontinuetoquestionyourbrother?”Steleurged.“Isitbecauseyoutrulydoubtwhat

hehasbecome,orisitbecauseyouarejealousofyouryoungersibling?”“No…”Rafenforcedthewordsoutofhismouth.“Father…He…”Stele’spresenceseemedtopermeateRafen’sperception.“Youlookuponhimandyoufeelrejected,

yes?” He pointed a sharp finger at theMarine, his voice rising. “You see him resplendent in thegoldenarmouroftheGreatAngelandcryoutitshouldhavebeenme!”“Yes.”Thereplycamefromnowhere,startlingRafenevenashesaidit.“No.Idonot…Arkiois

notready!”Hestaggeredbackward,hishandscominguptopressagainsthisface.EverysingledoubtandmisgivingthathadeverplaguedRafenwaswellingupinsidehimlikeafoulsurgetide.Clingingwreathsofdespairenshroudedhim.IamAdeptusAstartes,hismindcriedout,Iwillnotsubmit!“Butyoumust,”Steleanswered,theinquisitor ’svoicehumminginhisverybones.“Youmustgive

upyourlifeforArkio—don’tyouunderstand?Itisyouthatholdshimbackfromtruegreatness,yourinfluencethattieshimdown!Youalwaystreatedhimasthelesser,theunreadyyouth,butintruthitwas you that feared him.” Rafen was on his knees now, and Stele’s tall form arched over him,toweringandmonstrous.“Youcouldneveradmitthathissuccesswouldbeyourfailure.”InthecanyonsofRafen’smind,herelivedthemomentwhenhewasrejectedatAngel’sFall,when

hewalkedoutintothedesertstodieanignobledeathratherthanfacehistribewithhisinadequacy.Stelesawthememoryandhoneditintoablade,cuttingintoRafen’swillwithallthepsychicforce

hecouldmuster.Youshouldhavediedthatday.“Youshouldhavelethimgoaloneontoachievehisdestiny…”“Yes.”Rafen chokedon theword, staggering to his feet under theweight of the suicidal gloom

envelopinghim.“Father,Ifailedyou…”Stelecouldbarelycontainthecoldsmilethatthreatenedtobreakacrosshisthinlips.Withonefinal

effort,herammedhomeablackpsy-knifeofpuremiseryintoRafen’stroubledsoul.“Youcanstillsavehim,Rafen.”Savehimsavehimsavehimsavehimsavehimsavehimsavehim.Thewordsechoedthroughhis

sensorium.“How?”hewailed.“Die.”Stele’svoicecrackedlikethunder.“Dieforyourbrother,Rafen.Endyourlifeandfreehim.”Freehimfreehimfreehimfreehimfreehimfreehimfreehimfreehim.“No…no…no!”Suddenly

Rafenwas running, the corridors flashing past him, the city beyond, crashing through the streets,heedlessandbroken.Youmustdie,saidthevoiceinhishead,betrayerofblood,youmustdie.“Imustdie,”hewept,fallingtohisknees.

Stele’svision tunnelledandhegaspedforbreath.Therushofhisbloodand the thumpingofhisheartsoundedinhisearsashestruggledtothechair.TheeffortofpushingRafenhadlefthimdry,hispsionicwilldrainingtheverylifeforcefromhimtomaintainthepressure.Hefelltothefloorinaheap,aguttural,harshlaughescapingfromhislips.“Rafenmustdie,”hesaidaloud,andthensankintounconsciousness.

CHAPTERFIVE

Rafenran.Thestreetsofthecity,mostofthemstillwithoutpoweraftertheChaosinvasion,openedupbefore

him.Warrens of twisting stone canyons deepwith shadows drew the BloodAngel in. He crossedrooftopsinshudderingleaps,blunderingthroughbombed-outpitswhereworkshopshadoncestood.HestumbledthroughvoidscutinthecitybylancefireandsiteswhereWordBearershadbeenputtodeath.He ran to escape the pain, the black miasma of despair that snapped at his heels, tentacles of

darknessalwaysathisback,hungryforhim.Hewasaheedlessengineofmotion,mindsweptcleanofnothingbutmisery.Hecouldnotstop.Ifhestopped,themelancholywouldengulfhimandhewouldbelost,destroyed

bythefloodofguiltunleashedfromhisownpsyche.Whathehadwitnessedtoreathimlikeastormofrazors.Thetransformationofhisbrother,thedeathsofhisbattle-brothersonCybeleandagainonShenlong, all these things weighed and beat him down. The sheer anguish suffocated him. Rafenwatchedhiscomradesdiearoundhim,unabletostopit.Hismindreeledasherememberedeverysoulhehadknownextinguished.Hewishedthatithadbeenhiminsteadofthem.Mother, perished in childbirth. Omeg, his childhood friend dead from shellsnakes. Toph the

aspirant, tornopenbyfirescorpions.Crucius,shotonIxion.Simeon,boiledalivebyplasma.Koris,losttothethirst.Gallio,gunneddown…Faces,voices,screams,atorrentofthemwhirledaroundhim.Therewassomedistantpartofhim

calling,somelastinviolatecornerofRafen’ssoulstillbegginghimtohavestrengthandresist,butmomentbymomentthevoicebecamefainterandfainter.ThetouchofInquisitorStele’spsychicforcehadbrokenopentheplaceinsidetheSpaceMarinewherehekepthisblackestregrets,andnowtheywerefree,boilingthroughRafen,drowninghiminhisownremorse.Uncontrolled,theBloodAngelfoundhimselffalling,tumblingintoasteeldoor.Thehatchparted

under hisweight andRafen crashed through in a tangle of armour and limbs.Hands clasping hishead,herolledtohisknees.Throughmistedeyeshesawtheplacewherehehadcometorest,andadartofsurprisetookhimforamoment.Aroundhimwasametal-walledchamber,dimandthickwithchemicalscent.Againstonewall,abrassidoloftheGod-Emperorlaywatchinghim.“How?”heaskedthecloyingair.PerhapsitwasthehandoftheEmperorthathadguidedhimhere,

perhapsblindchanceorsomeanimalisticmuscle-memory,butRafen’sheadlongflightfromtheIkarifortresshadreturnedhimtothemakeshiftmeditationcellhehadcreatedforhimselfintheruins.Rafen reached out a trembling hand and ran his fingers over the icon; the yellowedmetal felt

blood-warmtohistouch.UndertheunblinkingeyesoftheEmperor,thecrushingweightofhisguiltcameallatonceandheletoutamoanofanguish,anechoing,feralcry.“HolyMaster,Ihavefailedyou.Mylife…meansnothing.Iambrokenanddefeated,mysorrow

unbound…”TheMarine’shanddosedaroundthehiltofhiscombatknife,drawingthebrightsteelofthefractal-

edgedbladefromitssheath.Hislimbsseemedtobeworkingontheirown,unwillinglyfollowingthesuicidalcompulsionlaidintoRafen’smindbyStele’sdarkinfluence.Thetipoftheweapontouchedthebellyofhistorsoarmourasitdippeddownward,thebladeinexorablydrawntohisflesh.

Itwas someone elseworking him now;Rafenwas a hollow puppet,woodenlymoving throughactions that theblackpowerof suggestion forcedonhim.Theknifekissed the redceramiteofhischestplateandscratchedacourseacrossthearmourashishanddrewitupward.“Iamended…”Rafen’sbladewasathisneck,theserratededgedippingintothemeatofhisthroat.

Bloodpooled in the leeof theknifeas thewoundopened, runningdown thegutterof theweapon,acrosshisbareknucklesandwrist.Pain came then, pain, and the smell of his ownvital fluid.The sensations pierced the shroudof

despairgatheredaboutRafen’ssoul,punchingthroughthefogofhismind.Hegasped—andinthatmomenteverythingchanged.A trembling sensation came upon the Blood Angel, every muscle in his body throbbing like a

struckchord.Thedualpulse-beatofhis twinhearts rumbled inRafen’sears, the racing thunderofbloodthroughhisarteriessuddenlyaroaringtorrent.Adrenalineheatsurgedoutfromhischest tofillhishollowcore.Hewasanemptyvesselabruptly filledwithmoltenenergy.Salivaflooded theMarine’smouth at the thought of rich vitae on his lips. His vision, cloudedmoments beforewithmoroseshadows,wasdarkenedbyaredmistofpassion.Rafenshookwiththerawpowerthatwelledupinsidehim,lettingitwashawaytheinsidiousvenom

ofmelancholy.Heknewthissensationwell:itwastheprecursortotheblackrage.TheBloodAngelthrewbackhishead,thebrilliantwhitedartsofhisfangsbaring.Theredthirstwasuponhim,warringwiththepsychictoxinsleftbehindbyStele’spotentmind-witchery.Andstillhisknifewasathisthroat,themetalcleavingfleshandthreateningtoseverarteries.One

small jerk of the wrist would be enough. Awar was being fought inside theMarine: rage facingdespair,furyversusmisery,white-hotwrathcrashingagainstcold,soul-numbinganguish.“I…will…not…die!”Rafenscreamed.Hehadcometoofar,foughttoohardtobefelledbyhis

own inner fears. “I am Adeptus Astartes,” he roared. “I am the Emperor ’s Chosen.” Rich bloodtricked down his torso armour, staining thewhitemetalwings surrounding the ruby droplet sigil.“Sanguinius,hearme!IamaBloodAngel!”His sight grewhazy as prickles of gold-white light unfoldedout of the air aroundhim.Rafen’s

wordschokedoffinagaspasapressureroseinsidehisskull,pushingattheedgesofhisperception.Heglimpsedahaloofhoneyedilluminationglitteraboutthebrassiconinthesecondsbeforethelightoverwhelmed him.Radiance touched his bare skinwith delicatewarmth, like the kiss of a perfectsummerday.Rafen’sheartswelled,thepain,theblood,themiseryallsweptawayfromhim.Hisvisioncollapsed toa singlepoint: a face, a figure, a shapeopening there in thevoidbefore

him,coalescing from the finesofdust in theair itself. It toweredoverhim,madehimchildlike incomparison; it filled theroomeven thoughthechambercouldneverhavecontained it.Thegoldenformaccretedandtookonfeatures—eyes,nose,mouth.Rafengasped,thethoughtofitthrillingathislips.“Sanguinius…”This was no pretender, no Reborn Angel, no mere changed man before him. The mellifluent,

achingly perfect face of the Blood Angels primarch bore down on Rafen, a vision of the GreatProgenitor of his Chapter invoked from the verymatter of the blood surging in his veins. Everybattle-brothercarriedaniotaofthePureOneinsidehim.SincethefoundationoftheBloodAngels,theconclavesoftheChapter ’sSanguinaryPriestshadkeptthelivingvitaeoftheirlong-deadmasterinthesacredRedGrail,andontheirinductionintotheChapterinitiateswoulddrinkfromaholycupthatheldaphiltreofthishallowedfluid.Rafenfeltthatbloodwithinhisbloodsingoutasliketouchedlike.TheCrimsonAngel ranahandoverRafen’s faceand,with infinite tenderness,drewaway thebloodyknife.Suddenlythebladeseemedhisagain,hisbodyrespondingtohiscommandsoncemoreandnotthesuggestionsofanother.

Rafenloweredhisfacetotheflatoftheknifeandlickedhisownblood;therichcopperytastewasstrongandheady.Theviolencewithin, theclawing feralmightof the red thirstebbedashedrank,receding—andwith itwent thevision, thegoldauraabouthimdisintegrating.Rafen’shandstabbedoutward,fingersreachingforhisprimarch.“Lord,helpme!”hecried.“WhatmustIdo?”ThecrystalblueeyesofSanguiniustookonasaddistance,glancingdownatthestainedweaponin

Rafen’shand, thenback tomeet thegazeof theBloodAngel.Rafenmimickedhismaster ’saction,studyingtheweaponinhisgrip.Whenheglancedup,hewasalone.Rafensatthereuntilsunrise,weighinghisknifeinhishandand

wondering.

TherecameaheavypoundingonthesturdynyawooddoorsanditinsinuateditselfintothemindofRamiusStele,dragginghimunwillinglyfromadeep,healingslumber.Thenoisehadbeengoingonforquitesometime,soitseemed.Steleturnedwherehelayonthefloor,adriedpatchofdarkbloodfromhismouthandnosesticky

on his cheekwhere it pressed to the careworn stone tiles. Swearing a curse beneath his breath, hepulled himself from the ground to a semblance of standing, the sickly weakness in his stomachmakinghimwince.Energyhadreturnedtohim,buthestillfeltlethargicwiththeeffortofhispsionicexertions. He gave a slow shake of the head, forcing away such thoughts. It was time for acommuniononceagain,anditwouldnotdoforhimtoshowfragility.Stele strode to the door, wiping away the caked matter from his face, and opened it. A Blood

Angelsserfreactedwithshockashedidso;theservanthadbeenabouttoknockagainandhishandwasraisedasif tostriketheinquisitor.Theserfbackedoffastep,bowingcontritely.“Forgiveme,LordStele,butIwasafraidyoudidnothearme…”Stele held up a hand to silence him. “I was detained with another matter.” If the helot saw any

indicationoffatigueinhisface,thenhegavenosign.“Whereisit?”TheChapterserftuggedatsomethingbehindhimintheshadowsofthecorridor,and,withatonal

footsteps, a crookedwoman came forward, led into thewan light by a rope about her neck. Stelepulled a ragged cloth sack from her head to reveal her face and the serf recoiled at the sight,nauseated.Thewomanhadnoeyes;theWordBearershadtakenthem.Herearsandnostrilshadalsobeensewnshut,andthereonherforeheadinaparodyofStele’sImperialaquilaelectro-tattoowasaneight-pointedstar.Theinquisitornodded.Thiswouldbeanacceptablevessel.Hesnatchedtheropefromtheserfand

dismissedhim.“Gonow.Iwillsendforyoulatertodisposeoftheremains.”ThepoorunfortunatehadnotbeenaskedtotakethemarkofChaosUndividedwillingly.Morethan

likely,shehadprobablyexpectedtodieintheWordBearersattack.Instead,somesubordinatecohortof the Castellan Falkir, the corrupted invader who had taken Shenlong before the Blood Angelsarrived,hadpickedhertoserveasamessenger-slave.Thereweremanyofthesepoorwretchesstillalive in thewarrens of themanufactories.Most had been put to death as amercy soon after theirChaosmastershadbeenrouted,butsomehadescapedintotheindustrialzones.Localshadtakentohuntingtheremainderandbringingthemtothefortressassomesortofoffering,inthewayafelinepetmightpresentitsmasterwithhalf-deadprey.Whentheybroughtonesthatwererelativelyintact,Stelearrangedforthemtobequietlykeptinthedungeonsbelowthestronghold.Innocentsspoiledbythe touchofChaos; theirprofanedbodiesofferedmuchin thewayofarcanepotential, ifcorrectlyharnessed.Stelereleasedtheropeandlet thewomanwanderblindlyacrossthevastroom.Itamusedhimto

see panic growon her face, her hands stabbing out in anxiousmotions, desperately searching forwallsthatwerenowherenearby.Hewatchedtheslavereachthecentreoftheroomandblunderinto

theornatetablehehadplacedthere.Thejarofichorsittingatopitupendedandspiltonherfingers.Aquizzicallookonherrainedface,sheheldupahanddirtywiththematterandtouchedittoherlips—theonlysenseshestillpossessed.Stele smiled; the concoction brewed from dead Word Bearers hearts stung her throat and she

choked off a strangulated scream.The slave dropped to the floor and began tomelt like hotwax.Bonesandorgans,bunchesofnerves,rawmuscle,allofitshiftedandchanged,shimmeringwetlyinthelightofphotoncandlesasawhisperingmetamorphosistookplace.Presently,theslavestood,andinthedeadsocketsitgrewneweyeswithwhichtolookattheinquisitor.Stelemadeatheatricalbow.Hehadseenthisparlourtricktoomanytimestobeaffectedbyit.An

ephemeral,potentsplinterofmonstrouspsionicwillwasnowinhabiting thehelot, turning it intoamouthpieceforhishellishcohortfulllightyearsdistantfromShenlong.“WarmasterGarand.Sonicetoseeyouagain.”ThetinypieceoftheChaoswarlord’sessenceexamineditself,themoltenskinandmealymatterof

themessenger.“ApoorframeforsuchaforceasI.Itwillnotlastforlong.”EvenasGarandspokethrough a broken throat, theWitch Prince’s energy was burning up the life of the slave woman.“Perhapsforthebetter.”“Howso?”Steleasked,approachingthepossessedform.“Itmeanswecanforgoyourusualtediousprattle.”Garandbubbledblood.“Youhavebeenonthis

blightedsphereforoverasolarmonth,andyetyouseemtohavemadelittleprogress.”AnerveinStele’sjawjumped.“Whatdoyouknowofit?”hesnapped,hisfatiguebrieflyallowing

his annoyance to surface. “Your blunt intellect has little comprehension of the subtlety of myenterprises.”Hemadeadismissivemotionatthehelot.“ThesecommunionsIamforcedtotakewithyoudonothingbutdivertmyattentionfromthetasksahead.”Garand’sfleshyavatargavehimasidewayslook.“Indeed?”itmocked.“Andyetitwasmy,what

did you call it, ‘blunt intellect’ that allowed you to cement your position of authority with theseboneless human cattle.” The proxy padded over to him, the psionic stink ofGarand’smind-spoorcloudingStele’stelepathicsenses.“IbrokethesacredcompactoftheWordBearerscodexinordertolaythepathforyourscheme,man-filth!Isacrificedanentirehostforthisendeavour.Neverforgetthat!”Stele’s face soured. “Don’tmake it sound like such a hardship,Warmaster.You yourselfwould

have taken theheadof Iskavan theHated ifhehadnotdiedhere.HeandhisninthhostwereofnovaluetotheRuinousPowers.”Garandmadeanegativenoise.“Butstill…Ihavefulfilledmypartof thebargain.Youare tardy

withyours.”Itspataglobuleofnecroticfleshontothefloor.“Therearelargerplansatwork,Stele.LargerthantheturningofthesemewlingBloodWhelps…Ifyoucannotfulfilyourresponsibilities—”“Ineedmoretime,”Stelesnapped.“Already,eventsgathertheirownmomentum.Arkio’spowers

arestillunfolding,thefaithofhisfollowersgrowsstrongerbytheday—”“Youwasteyourbreathexplainingittome.”Garandsaid,andnoddedtotheshadows.“ItisnotI

youmustjustifyyourdilatorymannerto—”Stele’sbreathcaughtinhisthroatassomethingdarkandcoldfellacrosstheroomlikeapsychic

eclipse.A foetor that could only exist in the unreality of thewarp entered the chamber; formilesaround, plates of food suddenly spoiled, wine turned to vinegar in corked bottles, births camestillborn.InhighorbitaboardtheBellus,Ulan’sblindeyeswepttearsofthinblood.“No,”saidStele, thedenialpuny,minuscule.Thewordfellagainstablackcurtainofshapes that

hissedandwhirredabouthim.Fromeverydarkcornercameinsects,not inmadswarmsorcrazedarmies,but incareful,quiet

andorderlyranks.Therewerefliesofeverysizeandcolour,spidersandbeetlesbytheirhundredsofthousands. They came together into a formless mass, and in moments they became an unholydaemon-shape,unitedbyasinglehideousintent.“Malfallax.”Stele spoke thewarp-lord’s name andbowedhis head. “I had not expected to greet

yourmagnificence.”“Better this way,” it said, in breathy tones that were chitin wings rubbing against each other.

“Unexpected.”Itbentdownandlickedabsentlyatthedrypatchofblood.Garand’savatardroppedtotheflooringenuflection.“GreatMalfallax,ChangerandMonarchof

Spite.Yourpresencehonoursus.”ThedaemondidnotacknowledgetheWordBearer.“Ssssssstele.”Itsavouredthename.“Ourlong-

heldbargaincomestoitsfruition,butyoutarry.Why?”ThesheerpsychicpresenceofthedaemonbeatatStele.“They…cannotbeforced,lord.Toguide

theseAstartesfromthecorpse-god’swilltothewayofeightrequirestimeandguilefulpurpose.”“Aluxuryyounolongerpossess,”thecreaturereplied.“IntheEye,timechangesandshiftsasall

thingsdo.Youmustaccelerateyourplans.”Stelefrowned.“Lord, ifwemove tooquickly,all Ihavedonemaybecomeunravelled.Garand’s

offeringwillbeforfeit…”Onthementionofhisname,theWarmaster ’savatarinterposeditself.Partsoftheflesh-formwere

alightnow,crispingandburning.“Hehasspoken.Youproceedtooslowly.YouwillmoveforwardatonceorIwillhavethisworldendedandyoualongwithit.”

Baal. The planet had been green once, hundreds of thousands of years ago, back before theImperiumhadexisted.Once,lushforestsandoceansrichwithlifehadcoveredtheworld,butthosewereforgottenmyths

now.Theirlegacyremainedinfossilrecordsastheplanetmovedon,catastrophicforcesscouringthesurfaceuntilitwasafiercesphereofblood-redrockandsand.Thenameoftheworldcamefromthedepths of human history, a cognomen thatmen had once given to a daemonic beast king. Like itsnamesake,Baalwasanunforgivingmaster,aplacethatwoulddestroytheunwaryandthefaithless.Fitting,then,thattheBloodAngelshadcomehereandturnedittotheirownpurpose.Commander

Dantecrossedthebattlementsofthefortress-monastery,theconstantdesertwindtugginglightlyatthehemsofhis robes.Above thehorizonhecouldsee theshapesofBaal’smoons in theeveningsky,theirsurfacesglittering.TheconstantstormsofrustyfinesinBaal’supperatmospheremadetheskiesshimmerwithafaint

pinkglow.Dante’seyesrangeddownoverthelandscape,tracingthelinesoftheGreatChasmRifttothenorthandthetowingcapsoftheChaliceMountains.Aftermillennia,thewarriorwasstilltouchedbythesight.Baallivedinhisheart,asitdidinallofhisbattle-brothers.IntheBookoftheLords,therewas a passage that talked of the planet’s birth, as a place created by the God-Emperor to test thefaithful.IfthatweretrulythepurposeofBaal,thentheBloodAngelshadsucceededhere.Theyhadtakenaworldthatthrewdeathatanythingwhichdaredtostrideacrossitssurface,andmadeittheirhome.Baalwouldnever be tamed—thatwas a thing for gods to do, not formen—but it hadbeentaught to respect itsmasters.The harsh environment lived in harmonywith its people. Itwas onlyhere, in the inner sanctumsof the fortress, that the ancient and long-passed character of theplanetcouldstillbefound.Dantepassed throughanornateairlockmadeofbrassandsyntheticdiamondplates,and into the

arboretum.Theairwaswarmandmoist,quiteunliketheraspingdrynessoutside;theslightlysweetsmellofrichloamreachedhisnostrils.Fromsoftsoilofdun-colouredearth,treesandplantsgrewtowardadomedceilingmadeofovallenses.Eachpanewasaslargeasaleviathan’seye,forgedby

someprocesslosttothedepthsofhistory.Perhaps,inthebeginning,thediamondwindowshadbeenclear,butnowtheywerescarredwhitebyuntoldcenturiesofscouringsand,sheddingonlyamilky,indistinctlightacrossthevastgarden.TheBloodAngelwalkedwithcarethroughtheriotoffoliage,pickinghiswayaroundthebolesof

tawny trees. Some of his brethren questioned the value of this place; they asked why it was thatvaluableservitorsbemaintainedinordertokeepthearboretumalive.Dantesuspectedthattheysawthe place as some eccentricity of his, a personal diversion for the master of the Blood Angels.Perhapsitwasallofthosethings,butitwasalsoavitallinktoBaal’spast.Everyplantthatgrewandthrivedherewasextinctinthewildernessoutside.Thegardenwasaportalintodeeptime,areminderofhowthingscouldthrive,onlytobecomedustasthefutureencroacheduponthem.Itwasalivingreminderoflife’sstruggleagainsttheweightofhistory.“Calistarius,”Dantesaidgentlyasheapproachedaclearing.Beforehim,amaninsimpleprayer

robeskneltononeknee,tracinghisfingersacrossthepetalsofabedofwhiteflowers.“Mylord,”saidMephiston,glancingupathim.“Ihavenotheardthatnamespokeninmanyyears.”

TheChiefLibrarianoftheBloodAngelsgazedatDantewithhoodedeyes,theburninggazethatsotransfixedthemindsofhisenemiesatrest.“IhavenotbeenBrotherCalistariusforanage.”The commander studied the face of his friend and comrade. Dante had been there on planet

ArmageddononthenightthathehademergedfromtherubbleofHadesHive,rebornasMephiston,LordofDeath.Calistariushadbeenlosttotheredthirstandburiedalive,thoughtdeaduntilavisionoftheirprimarchhadguidedhimbacktolife.“Forgiveme,”saidDante.“Foramoment,mymindtookmebacktodayspast.Tosimplertimes.”“In this place it is easy to lose one’s self in ancient history.Othersmay doubt themerit of this

garden,butnotI.”Dantegaveaslightnod;thepsykerhadpickeduponhisthoughts.“Yousentwordyouwishedto

speakwithme.”“Yes,lord.Ithoughtitbestwetalkalone,lessincautiousearsormindscatchwindofwhatImust

tellyou.”Hegesturedaround.“Ioftencomeheretomeditate,commander.ThetranquillityofBaal’spastsmoothesthepathintotheempyrean.”Dante’sfacebecamegrave.Hecouldtellfromhisoldcohort’stonethatMephiston’snewswould

notbegood.“Whathaveyoutotellme?”“Vode’smindwas silenced,GreatOne.Evenas I restedhereandprojectedmy thoughts into the

void,Ifelttheedgeofaripplefromhispsychicshriek.”“Killed?”“Aye,”Mephistonsaidgrimly,“andGallioalongwithhim.EverymanwesenttoShenlong,ended

inablinkoffire.”“Youarecertainofthis?”Danteasked.“The ways of the warp are never fixed,” replied Mephiston. “Like desert sand, the real slips

throughmyfingers.Butonmysword,Itellyou.Thosemenaredead.”Acold,sickeningfamiliaritytouchedDante,onehehadknownamilliontimesoversincehisfirst

commandasaBloodAngelwarrior.Hefeltthedeathofeachbattle-brotheraskeenlyashehadtheveryfirsttodieunderhisstewardship.“How?”“Icanonlyguess,”thepsykeradded,“butifthisArkioistouchedbythewaysofChaos—”“Theremustbeanotherexplanation,”snappedthecommander.“Anaccidentperhaps,anattackby

enemyforces.”Dante’soldcomradegaveaslowshakeofhishead.“No,lord,”hesaid,withgrimfinality.“Youwouldsuggestourownkindhavedrawnbloodagainstus?”Dantegrowled.“Iprayyouare

mistaken.”

“AsdoI.”Mephistonagreed.Hewassilent foramomentbeforehespokeagain.“TheAmareo’smissionwillnotremainconcealedfromourbrothersforever,commander.Despitemybestefforts,wordofitspreadsamongthemen.Soon,questionswillbeasked.”Dante shook his head. “I will not reveal news of this ‘transformation’ until we know the truth

behindit.IftalkofasecondcomingoftheGreatAngelgrows,dissensionintherankswillfollow.”“Anda schism is somethingwecannot risk.”HemetDante’sgaze.“Mydoubtsaregone, lord. I

believethisboyArkioisafalsemessiah.OnlyoutoffearwouldhehavekilledGallio’sparty.”“Butyousaidthatyoucannotbesurethatiswhattookplace.”Mephistonfrowned.“Darkthreadsgatheroutthere.Theyknit togetherinawebofdeceitandwe

arecaughtinthem.Shroudedforces,hatredsincarnateareatworkmanipulatingevents.ThisArkioisatthehubofthem,commander.”“Wecanonlybesurebyfacinghiminperson,”saidDante.“Untilthen,heremainsanunknown,a

tarotcardunturned.”The psyker fell silent again, studying the delicate plants at his feet. “You know this flower,

commander?”“Redkin.” Dante replied. “It has not existed on this planet in the wild since the thirty-eighth

millennium.”Mephistonranabarefingeroverthetough,rubberypetalsofthewhiteflower,theserratededgeof

it drawing blood. Instantly, capillaries in the petiole began to absorb the fluid, turning the plantscarlet. “The flower ’s rootsmeshwith those of the others that surround it,” theLibrarian said, “itsharesthebountyitgathers.”Inabloomofcrimson,thecolorationspreadacrosseachoftheplantsinthecluster.Mephiston’sfingersclosedaroundtheflowerinhishandandcrushedit,spillingatrickleofhisownvitaeontherustysoil.“Likeus,onegivesstrengthtoall.Butifthatunityisbroken…”Hepaused,cockinghishead.“Wehavecompany.”Dante turned at the soundof the airlockopening.A spindlymessenger servitor ambledover on

clankingmechanical feet. Once it had been a human being; now it was a device in service to theImperium,mindwipedofanypersonality,afeaturelessautomatonmadeoffleshandimplantedsteel.Its blank face swung left and right, finally locating the Blood Angels commander. “With yourpermission,LordDante.AmessagefromShenlongarrives.Yourattentiononly.”“Speak,”hedemanded.“ViatheastropathicductUlanaboardthebattlebargeBellus,Brother-CaptainIdeoncommanding,

protocol omnis octo,” it recited, relaying the trance-speech from the monastery’s own psychiccommunicators.“TheSanguinaryHighPriestBrotherSachiel,chosenoftheBlessedArkio,requestsanaudiencewith theLordCommanderDanteon theshrineworldofSabien inninesolardays,onbehalfoftheRebornAngel.”“TheRebornAngel.”Mephistonrepeatedthetitlewithasneeronhislips.“Thiswhelphasnoneed

formodesty,itseems.”Dante was lost in thought for a moment. “Sabien. I know it well. There was a Blood Angels

garrisonthere,intheworstdaysofthePhaedraCampaign.”Hefrowned.“Manyofourkindredshedbloodforeverymetreofthatblightedplanet.”“Anabandonedmonumentworld,”said thepsyker.“Anideal locationforanambush.”Hegot to

hisfeet,firedancinginhiseyes.“Lord,thisissotransparentatrap.”“Ofthat,wemaybecertain.”Danteagreed.“But thispriestSachiel, ifhetrulyspeaksforArkio,

knowsonlytoowellthatIamforcedtoagreetothemeeting.”Mephiston’s eyes narrowed. “Commander, you cannot think to accept this so-called ‘request’? If

Arkiowishestomeet,heshouldcomeheretoBaal.”“Hewillnot.”Danteretorted,“andIwillnotriskmorelivestobringhimunderforceofarms.No,

wemustseekthetruthaboutArkioanddetermineifhetrulyisSanguiniusrebornoranimpostor.”“Todothat,Iwouldneedtoturnmygazeuponhim,lord.”Dantenodded.“Andsoyouwill.YouwillattendmeatSabienandIwillhavethisArkioanswerfor

hisdeeds.”Mephistonshookhishead.“Icannotallowthat.”TheBloodAngelgavetheLibrarianasharplook.“Doyoudefymenowaswell?”“Forgiveme,greatDante,butyouarethesworncommanderofthisChapter.Yourplaceishere,at

thethroneofBaal. Ishallmeetwith thisArkio,alone.Asyoursecond,Icannotallowyoutoplaceyourselfinsuchdanger.”Dantewentredwithannoyance.“InelevenhundredyearsIhaveledmymenfromthefront!Now

somechildpresumestothegodheadovermyChapterandyoudemandIstaybehind?”Mephiston’siron-hardgazeneverwavered.“Ifitpleasesthelordcommander,Iambestsuitedfor

thisendeavour.Forallyourgreatness,youdonotpossessthewarp-sightasIdo.Myvisionwillseetheheartofthispretenderasplainlyasday,andIwillnotflinchfromhisexecutionwhenthemomentcomes.”Heplaced ahandonDante’s shoulder, a gestureof familiarity that nootherBloodAngelalive would ever have dared to make. “My lord, when the men learn of this Arkio there will bequestions.Theywilllooktoyouforguidance.”“AndsoImustbeheretoanswerthosequestions.”Dantefrowned.Afteralongmoment,hespoke

again.“Verywell.Yourcounselhasneverfailedmeyet,Mephiston,andIwillacceptitnow.Onmyorders,assembleaforceofyourmostseniorbrothersandtakecommandofthebattlebargeEuropae.IgrantyoufullpowertospeakonmybehalfandthatoftheBloodAngels.”TheLordofDeathtappedhisballedfisttohischestandbowedhisheadinsalute.“ForSanguinius

andtheEmperor,”hesaid.“ForSanguiniusandtheEmperor,”repeatedDante.

Rafenentered thechapelunseenandmovedfromtheshadowsto thealtar.Hehadbarely takenastepwhenArkio’s crystal-clear voice called to him. “Rafen. I see you.”His sibling stoodup fromprayerandbeckonedhimforward.“Comenow.Wearealone.”TheMarinewalked into the dimly lit transept. “They say that tomorrowSachielwill choose the

thousandandconsecratetheBloodCrusade.”Hisvoicewastightwithemotion.Arkionodded.“Itshallbethus.”“Andhowmanywilldie?”Rafendemanded.“HowmanymoreBloodAngelsand innocentswill

perish?”“OnlythosewhostandagainstthewillofSanguinius.”Rafenfalteredforamoment.“Brother,Ibegofyou.Gonofurther.Iimploreyou,inourfather ’s

name,donotdothis!YouwillleadtheBloodAngelsintoself-destruction.”Atanymoment,heexpectedArkiototurnonhiminanger,tostrikehimdownforhispresumption,

butinsteadthegoldenfiguregavehimasorrowful,pityinggaze.“No,mykinsman.Iwillfreethem.Withyourhelp,andSachiel,Stele,allofus,wewillbeginaneweraforourbattle-brothers.”“Arkio.”Rafenfelthisvoicecatch.“Canyounotseethebloodshedthatliesahead?”Hisbrotherturnedaway,returningtohisprayerstance,dismissinghimlikesomeirrelevantvassal.

“Iamtheeyeoftheinfinite,theDeusSanguinius.Ifthereisbloodtospill,thenitshallbespiltinmyname.”Rafenfoundnomorewordsandfellsilent.HeturnedhisbackonArkioandwalkedaway.

CHAPTERSIX

In the confines of themakeshift arena, theirwar had raged for days and nightswithout respite.SomeofthemhadbeensoldiersintheShenlongPlanetaryDefenceForce,desperatetoregainalittlehonourafterfailingsomiserablyagainsttheChaosinvaders,otherswerejustcitizens,dispossessedbytheWordBearers,lostandpurposelessintheashesoftheircity.Allofthemhadspiritsthatwerewanting,greatvoidsintheirheartsthatcouldonlybefilledbyonewhocouldofferthemhope.This Blessed Arkio did; the Shenlongi had believed themselves abandoned by the might of the

Imperium.Theirprayersforsalvationhadgoneunanswered,andastheTraitorMarinessubjugatedthem,theviledemagoguesoftheWordBearerscultmockedthemfortheirloyaltytoanEmperorthathad turned his back on them. Those were the darkest days. Some had broken under the yoke ofoppression and taken their own lives, others casting off their fealty to Terra and embracing thebloodyway of the archenemy. The people had faced their fatewith gloom, convinced that rescuewouldnevercome.Arkiochangedallthat.Onwingsofsacredfire,hefellfromtheskiesandsmotetheWordBearers

withhisHolyLance.Inlessthanaday,theRebornAngelandhiscohortssweptShenlongcleanoftheenemyandliberatedherpeople.Theywereall toowillingtocastasidewhateverdevotiontheyhadgiventoadistantghostatopathroneamillionlight-yearsaway;alltoowillingtobendtheirkneefora god that walked like a man, passing among them in a vision of golden light. Arkio was theirrescuer,andtheylovedhimforit.When theBlessed’s priest Sachiel gaveword thatArkiowas to draw an army from the people,

untoldnumbersofmenandwomenrosetothecall.Theywouldbeproudtolaydowntheirlivesfortheirnewsaviour, takinganychance to standa little closer tohismagnificence.Therewouldbe achoosing, Sachiel said, the conscription of a thousand souls to joinArkio on his Blood Crusade.Those so ordained would become theWarriors of the Reborn, and for their hearts and souls thereward of life anewwas theirs. The penitents spoke inwhispers of the far-offworld of Baal, thebirthplaceoftheBlessed,wherelegendssaidnormalmencouldbetransformedintoavatarsalmostasgreatashe—theAdeptusAstartes.Therewasnoshortageofvolunteers.InthegreatplazaonthestepsoftheIkarifortresstheyfashionedanarenafromfallenbuildings,

and inside thosewho dared to aspire towarriorhood took up arms against one another. Only thestrongest,themostruthlesswouldbeselectedforthethousand.Theybegantheirlittlewar,corralledthere beneath themountainous tower, and they fought and fought.Life by life, hour by hour, theirnumbersdwindled,thesurvivorsnearingthethousandfoldasdayfollowednightfollowedday.

Alactus and Turcio opened the gate as the Sanguinary High Priest approached, the dawn lightgleamingoffthewhitegoldonhisarmour.Withinthearena,themeleehadgrownquieterandmoreinfrequentasthemassedbattlesoftheearlydayshadgivenwaytoattrition.Hundredsofcommonershadperishedinthosefirstconfusedfree-for-alls,gallonsofshedbloodturningtheflagstonesbrownbeneath them. Some of theweaponswere crude—clubs, axes, huge steel spanners stolen from thefactorycathedrals—whileothersweremoredeadly.Afewoftheapplicantshadprojectileweapons,flamers,evenlasers,thegunslootedfromthecorpsesofwardeadandbroughtheretoturnagainstoneanother.

AsTurciowatched,theBloodAngelcouldseeafirefightinprogressbetweentwomen,onebarelyable tocarry theheavystubber inhishand, theothersnappingshotsbackwithsomesortofsmall-bore lasgun. The figure with the stubber gave out a war cry and tried to rush his enemy, but theweaponwastoobulky,tooheavyforanunarmouredhumantomanage.Hestumbled,andthefigurewiththelaserstitchedhimwithhotfire.Hesanktotheground,hiscorpsecatchingalight.Sachielpausedatthearenagateandspokeawhisperedcommandintohisvox.Inreplyanairraid

warningsirenkeenedfromahighbalconysomewhereonthesideofthefortresstower.Thelowingshrieksettledover theplazaandsilencefellafter it.Thiswasthepre-arrangedsignal; thetrialwasover.Allacrossthearenafightsstaggeredtoahaltandweaponswerelowered.Thosewhocouldstillmove emerged from cover, into the open space in the centre of the battlefield. In the makeshiftgrandstands erected along the walls of buildings bordering the arena, people boiled forward inunrestrainedeagernesstoseewhowouldbeselected.ThesirenshutoffandSachielbaskedinthequiet.ItseemedasifeveryeyeonShenlongwasseton

him.TheBlessedhadchargedthepriestwiththetaskofmakingthefinalchoices,anditwasadutyhewasonlytooeagertoperform.Heenteredthearena,withTurcioandAlactusathissides.Sachiel’sgaze ranged over the faces he saw around him, all of them bloody and dirty with the effort offighting. In their eyes was an unquestioning readiness to do anything that he ordered, and therealisationofthatmadehimswellwithpower.ThesemenwouldfollowArkiointothejawsofhellandneverquestion.Tothinkhehadharboureddoubtsabouttheraisingofthisarmy;nowitseemedridiculoustohim.

Ofcourse, thesewereonlymeremen,nomatchforthemightofaSpaceMarinelikehim,butstillthis helot battalionwouldhave its purposeon the fieldof conflict.The fact alone that commonerswerewillingtosacrificetheirfuturesforArkiospokevolumesforthepoweroftheBlessed.Whenthe Blood Crusade began in earnest, the ranks of theWarriors of the Rebornwould swell to ten,twentytimesthissize.Hisshookoffallthoughtofhisprevioushesitancy.WhowashetoquestionthewisdomoftheBlessed?Amovementcaughthiseyeandlookeddowntoseeastraggle-hairedfemaleasshetriedtoriseto

herfeet.Shecouldnotdoit;livid,weepingwoundsalonghersidehadopenedhertotheair.Sachielstudiedtheinjurywithapracticedeye.ASpaceMarinemighthavebeenabletosurvivesuchacut,butanormalhumanwouldhavenochanceatall.Thewomanmethisgaze,andthereinhereyeswasanentreatysopureandheartfeltitgavethepriestpause.Hestoopedoverher.“Whoareyou?”heasked.“Muh-M-Mirris,”shecoughed.“MirrisAdryn.”Sachielnotedtheremainsofasmallpennantbadgeonhershoulder.TheShenlongihadatradition

wherebythecadreandrankofacitizenwouldbedisplayedthroughasetofknottedribbonsontheirclothing.Thewomanworethecoloursofamotherofthree,ateacher.“Mirris,”hesaidgently.“Yourchildrenareproudofyou.”“Yes.”Sheforcedasmile,tearsstreamingdownherface.Sheknewdeathwascoming,andthatshe

wouldneverfulfilthedreamofjoiningArkio’scohort.“Letmegiveyouagift,”beganSachiel,andhedrewhisreductorfromhisbelt.“Doyoudesirethe

Blessed’sPeace,MirrisAdryn?”“Lord,theofferingofthereductorisonlyforAstartes—”saidAlactus,hisfaceagrimace.Sachielsilencedhimwithalook.“AllthosewhoservetheRebornAngelshallshareinthis.”Mirris’eyesshone,acceptingthebenediction.“Yes,lord.Iwishit.”Hegaveheragraciousnodandshotherintheheart.Theblunt-headedtitaniumboltwasdesigned

topunchthroughthehardenedceramiteandplasteelofaSpaceMarine’spowerarmourandpiercethebonecageprojectingtheorganswithin,itwasthefinal,honourablesolutionforabattle-brother

too close todeath for recovery.Againstnormal, unenhanced flesh it blewa cavity in the teacher ’schestasbigasSachiel’sfist.Withcare,heclosedMirris’eyesandstood,wipingawaythebackwashofherbloodfromthedevice.“Evenindeath,thethousandwillservetheBlessedasamonumenttohisrighteousness,”hesaid,hisvoiceclearandhardasitcarriedacrossthearena.Turciostaredatthedeadwoman,thefaintsmellofhercoolingbloodreachinghisnostrilsthrough

thegrilleofhisarmouredhelmet.Thetangofthescent-tastetouchedadeepandprimalchordinsidehim.Battlewouldbecomingsoon.Sachielsteppedforwardboldly,bolstering thereductorandspreadinghishandswide.Hemoved

through the crowd of bedraggled andworn fighters, touching some on the shoulders, nodding toothers. Each one that he indicated bowed in return, and those around them shrank back to see thegreatness in their midst. Man by man, Sachiel chose the thousand. Those that fell short of thebenedictionwatchedinmutesilence,othersbreakinginto tears.Alactussawtwomenplaceguns intheirmouthsandendtheirownlivesratherthanacceptthefailure.In themiddle of the arenawas the gutted hulk of aWordBearers LandRaider, a burnt box of

warpedmetalandbonyprotrusionskilledintheopeningsalvoesfromtheBellus.Heclimbedatoptheruinedvehicletoaddressthepeoplebeforehim.“Yourlivesareover,”hetoldthem.“Whateveryouwerebeforethismoment,whateveryourwords

anddeedsbeforethisday,nowtheyarenoughtbutvapour.Youaredeadandyouarereborn.Youarethethousand.”Araggedcheereruptedfromthemeninthearena,quicklypickedupbythewatchersinthestands

and the streets beyond. The sound carried like awave, and Sachiel fancied that he could hear thewholeoftheplanetcryingout.“YouarethefirsttobearthehonouroftheWarriorsoftheReborn,thechosenofArkiotheBlessed,theservantsoftheNewBloodAngel.YournameswillbecarvedintohistoryalongsidethelegionsofSanguinius,alongsidethenameofArkiohimself!”Thethousandrattledtheirweaponsandsentshotsintothesky,aclatteringclarionofthanksgiving.

“Markthisdaywell,”hetoldthem,“foritshallnevercomeagain.Intheages,menwilllookbacktoShenlongandseeyouallasabeaconofprincipleandloyalty.TheywillknowyouasIdo—asheroesofthewarstocome.”Theroarcameagain,andthistimeitsplittheairlikerollingthunder.

Awrysneerformedontheinquisitor ’slipsasthenoisepenetratedthestainedglasswindowsofthechapel.The shoutinghad such force that the ancient panels vibratedunder each exultation, and thepriest’srhetoricmadethesoundriseandfalllikeaconductordirectinganorchestra.HeconsideredSachielwithcoldamusement;allmenboreweaknesses,evensuchpreternaturalsuperhumansastheSpaceMarines,and thekey tomanipulating themwas to isolateandexploit thosedefects.FormensuchasthelateSergeantKoris, ithadtakenmoreapplicationthanothers,andwithRafentheefforthadalmostkilledhim—buthe fullyexpected tohearofArkio’sbrothersoon,perhaps tobe founddeadinsomedingycornerofthecityaftertakinghisownlife.StelehadbeenforcedtodriveRafenintothedepthsofhisowndespairtocontrolhim,butSachiel

was a different story.A supremely arrogantman among an arrogant breed, thepriest’s touchstonewashisself-superiority.Stelediscoveredthatinhisyouth,SachielhadbeenbornintotheclosestthingthatBaalPrimushadtoaristocraticnobility.Ahighly-placedwarriortribewithmanydominionsontheFirstMoon,heviewedhis ascension to thehallowed ranksof theBloodAngels as amatterofcourse,andStelehadnodoubtthatSachielimaginedafuturewithhishandonthecommandoftheChapterinthecenturiestocome.StelehadworkedcarefullytocultivateSachiel,overtheyearsoftheBellus’smissionintoorkspacetorecovertheSpearofTelesto,teasingoutthethreadofvanitythatlurkedinsidehim,feedingitandnurturinghispretension.HehadallowedSachieltoadvancequickly

inrankandinturngainedatrustingally.Combinedwiththepriest’sfanaticaldevotiontothecultofSanguinius,Stelehad an agentwhowouldwillingly furtherhis planswithout ever considering thetruemotivesbehindthem.AslongasStelekepthispurposecloakedinthemantleoftheprimarch’srebirth,Sachielwouldfollowhimunflinchingly.Helookedawayfromthewindow.Arkiowasnotpresent,andtohis irritation, thehonourguard

stationedatthegatetotheinnercryptrefusedtolettheinquisitorenter.Theyoungmanwasinthereonceagain, communingwith theHolyLance. In truth,Arkio’saffinitywith thearcheotechweaponwas a sourceof some concern toStele.He foundhimselfwonderingwhat secrets thedeviceheld,secrets thatonlysomeonewithAstartesbloodwouldeverbeable tounlock.TheBloodAngelwasmeditating in the sanctum, hoping to catch some fragment of his primogenitor ’s soul from theweaponSanguiniushadoncecalledhisown.StelegaveasilententreatytotheRuinousPowersthathewould find no such thing. If Arkio began to exhibit signs of dangerous independence, all Stele’scarefully-wroughtplanswouldbefornothing.Another lusty roar brought his attention back to the crowds below. Sachiel was building to a

crescendonow,unleashingablazingtirade.

Inhishand thepriestheld thecopperchalice thatwas thesymbolofhishighoffice.He thrust italoft, and thedawnsunglitteredoff the replicaof thegreatRedGrail. ItheldSachiel’sgaze foramoment.Oneday,he toldhimself, Iwillcarry the trueRedGrail itself,even if Ihave towrestle itfromCorbulo’sdeadfingers.Thenakedavariceinhisthoughtssentathrillthroughthepriest.Itwasahiddendesire,somethinghewouldneverhavedaredtospeakofopenly—andyetsuddenlyhefeltempoweredby it, thedaringof suchdissensionmakinghimbold.The thousandbowed theirheadsundertheshapeofthechalice.“TheBloodofagesflowsthroughusall,”hesaid,phrasesfromtheBookoftheLordsbubblingup

insidehimwithoutconsciousthought.“TheSonsofSanguiniuswillrisetotakethegalaxyfromallthosewhoopposeorderandlight.”Theycheeredhimon,frenziedandwild.“TheBlessedlightsthepath,wemustleadthewayalongitandwelcomethosewhopraisehisname!”“Arkio!”“Arkio!”“Praisehim!”Voices all aroundwere raised in adulation. “We bring light to thosewho see the truth, and all-

consuming fire to thosewho deny.” Sachiel slammed the grail to his breastplate, tapping it to hishearts.Hewasshakingwithrawemotion.“Heedme.IamtherighthandoftheRebornAngel.Igiveyou all his call to glory. Take up arms,Warriors of theReborn, take up yourweapons andmakeready forwar.”Sachiel threwbackhisheadandbellowed to the sky. “Thisday theoldorderdies.Thisdayweareallrebornanew.ThisdaywebegintheBloodCrusade!”“Arkio!Arkio!Arkio!Arkio!”Thechantwentonandonuntilitfilledtheair.

Despitethebrightnessofthemorning,Rafencouldseeonlyshadows.Fromtheroofofthefortresshewatchedthepriestcontinuehisbombast,atinyfigureinredandwhitehecouldblotfromhissightwiththethickofhisthumb.Therewasnosilencinghisvoice,though,everywordSachielsaidwasbeingbroadcastthroughthe

voxnetworkoftheBloodAngelsandthetelegraphsofShenlong’scity-sprawls.“Thosemenwhoseektocontrolus,wedisavowthem!”camethepriest’scryinhisear-bead,the

soundofhisvoiceonthewindreachinghimasplit-secondlater.“TheImperiumischokedwithpettybureaucrats and debased fools, weaklings who corral the destiny of mankind laid down by theEmperor.Sanguiniusknewthis.Hediedinthewarwiththearch-traitorHorussotheEmperormight

live!”Rafen’slipcurledinasoursneer;Sachielwaswarpingthetruthtosuithissermonising.Thepriestcontinued,workinghimselfandhisaudienceintoafrenzy.“ButnowthePureOnehasreturnedtous,andhissightisunfailing.Hecametousbecausethisplagueofdeficiencyhasstretchedacrossthestars,eventopoisontheveryhighestofficeoftheBloodAngelsthemselves.WecannotstandbyanylongerandallowthewillofourChapter,ourspeciestobedictatedbyimpotentmen.Nowisthedayforaction,inArkio’sname!”Thecrowdroaredhisbrother ’sname,sendingashudderthroughtherock.Rafenglanceddownat

theknifeinhishand,stillstainedwithhisowndriedblood.Hoursagohehadbeenwithinaheartbeatoftakinghisownlife,andnowhewasagain,butthistimeitwasbyhisownchoice.“Weabandontheruleoftheseso-calledAdeptusTerra!”Sachielbellowed.“Wedenythedominion

ofDante.Wefindhimwanting.Fromnowon,weansweronlytothecommandoftheBlessed!”Thecrowd boiled around the priest and the thousand, demanded answers, begging him for amandate.Theywantedtobetoldwhattodo,theywouldnotbecompletewithoutanedicttofollow.“Warriors,Ichargeyou.YouwillstandascohortstotheBloodAngelsaboardtheBellus,thesacredflagshipoftheBloodCrusade.TogetherwewillfaceDanteandexcisehimsothatArkiomaytakehisrightfulplaceasmasteroftheChapter!”“Vandire’soath…”Rafenfelttheimpactofthewordslikeaphysicalblow.Hehadneverdoubted

thatsooneror laterhewouldhearsuchheresyuttered,butstillwhen itcame itmadehimfeel likevomiting. Sachiel stood there advocatingmurder and sedition, and to Rafen’s eternal shame therewerebattle-brotherswho tookup the call.All at oncehe felt tarnishedandhumiliated, ashamed toadmitthathesharedbloodwiththeseaddledturncoats.“Baal shall come to our fold,” Sachiel roared, reaching a climax. “All Blood Angels and

successors will bend the knee to Great Arkio, or face oblivion.” The answering cry blotted outeverything,andRafen’shotshamecooledintoanicyanger.Couldnoneoftheseblindfoolsseeit?Asclearastheday,itwastherebeforethem,masqueradingincomrade’sclothes,appealingtotheirbasernatures,theirfearsandsecrethopes.“Chaos.”Rafenspatthewordfromhismouth.ThehandoftheeightfoldstarmovedSachielandthe

others likemindlesspawnsacrossavastgameboard,marshalling themfor illdeeds sohuge theywerebeyondthereckoningoftheseblinkered,misguidedfools.“Curseme,butIwillnotletthisgoanyfurther.”“Brother?”saidavoicebehindhim,andRafenspunaboutabruptly.Hewascaughtunawares,his

owndarkthoughtsandtherageofthecrowdsdistractinghim.Lucionapproachedhim,aquestioninglookon theupperhalfofhis facewhere itprotrudedover thehalf-maskofhisbreatherplate.TheBloodAngelsTechmarinepaused,hisarmsathis sidesbut themechanical servo-limbonhisbackstilltwitchingwithconcern.“Whatdidyousay?”Rafenglancedfromtheknifeinhishand,backtoLucioninhisarmourofredceramiteandcog-

toothgunmetaltrim.“Arkioisnomessiah,”hetoldtheBloodAngelsTech-priest.“Mypoorbrotherisanobliviouscatspaw.”Lucion’sfacewentwhitewithshock.“Howcanyousaysuchathing?You,ofallmen,thesibling

oftheBlessed.”“How?”Rafenrepeated,advancingontheTechmarine.“IsayitbecauseIamtheonlyoneonthis

desperateworldwitheyesstillclearenoughtosee.”BrotherLucionbackedawaytowardtheserviceplatformrunningtheheightoftheIkarifortress.

“No, no,” hewaved all three of his limbs in the air before his face, as if he could banishRafen’sutterancelikeanagginginsect.“Youaremad.”RafenproducedhisbolterandaimeditsquarelyatLucion’sforehead.“Onthecontrary,”he told

him.“IfearIamthelastsaneman.”Theblacktunneloftheweapon’smawneverwavered.TheSpace

Marinefeltanoddkindofcalmsweepoverhimasthefinalpartsofhisplanfellintoplace.SincethedaythismadnesshadbegunthereonCybele,aslow-burningcertaintyhadbeenbuildinginRafen’ssoul.InthemarrowofhisbonesheknewtheTightnessofit,andnowithadcometoahead.Thefear,theconstantdark fear that itwouldbebyhishand thatArkiowouldperishwas swept away.AshestudiedtheconfusedfaceoftheTechmarine,Rafendecidedthathewouldtakehisownlife,andthatofeverywaywardmortalanddeceiverthathadstrayedfromthepathoflight.Thebeatingheartofthisfortress,thecore.“Youhavespokenwithitsmachine-spirit.”Luciongave a slow,warynod. “Only in themost cursory fashion. I donot fullyunderstand the

waysofthereactor-spirit,but—”Hegesturedtowardtheelevatorplatformwiththegun.“Youwill takemetoit,orIwillkillyou

whereyoustand.”

Theydescendedthroughtheinterioroftheconicaltowerintheopenmetalcageofthelift.Lucionwhisperedaquicklitanyoverthecontrolsand,withasqueakofirononiron,theplatformbeganacontrolledfallpastlevelafterlevel.RafenkepttheTechmarineinhissights,neverallowinghisboltertoshiftfromapointtargetedatLucion’sskull.AmemoryflashedthroughRafen’smind,ofasimilarelevatorintheplanetarydefencebunkeron

Cybele.HeandLucionhadbeen there aswell,Arkio andSachiel too, dropping into thedarkwithvengeanceontheirminds.Itseemedlikesolongago,asifyearsandnotweekshadpassedbetweenthenandnow.Foramoment,theweightofhiswearinessthreatenedtocomeuponhimlikeaheavycloak,butRafenshookitawaywithanangryblinkofhiseyes.Lucionwastalkingtohimself.AtfirstRafenthoughthewaspraying,orworse,usinghisvoxto

callforhelp.“It’satest,”theTechmarinewassayingaloud,givingvoicetohisthoughts,“Thisisaloyaltytest.TheBlessedistestingmydevotion.”“Wouldyoudoanythingheasked?”saidRafen.“Ofcourse.”Lucionrepliedinstantly,asiftheanswerwereasplainastheservicestudonhisbrow.

“HeistheBlessed.”Part of Rafen felt hate and antipathy for his battle-brother as he listened to Lucion’s answer.

Perhaps, intheweakermindsofordinarymen,itwasunsurprisingthat thecommonerstookupthecauseofArkio’ssupposeddivinity,buttoseeitsoreadilyacceptedbytherankandfileofhisownChapter sickened him. “Has it ever occurred to you, brother, that you make a grievous error inveneratinghim?”“WhywouldIthinksuchathing?”Lucionretorted.“BythegraceoftheOmnissiah,Sanguiniushas

beenrestoredtous.”AlltheangerthathadbeenbuildinginRafenforweekssuddenlyfoundanoutletandhesnarledat

theTechmarine.“Hesproutswingsandsuddenlyheisagod-prince?Areyousocredulousthatyoucannotseepasttheglitterofthegoldarmour?”Theyhadbeentravellingdowninneardarknessforseveralminutes,andsoRafencouldonlysee

glimpses of Lucion’s face. Conflicting emotions danced there for amoment before he nodded tohimself. “A test,” he repeated. “Iwill not be found lacking, youmay carrymywordof that to theRebornAngelhimself.”Withaclatterofmetal,theelevatorhalted.“Fool.”Rafensaidunderhisbreath,andmotionedtothe

door.Unconcernedthathestillhadaguntrainedonhim,Lucionopenedthewire-meshandwalkedforwardintothesub-levelofthefortress.Aspotlightmountedonhisshouldersnappedon,andRafenfollowedthebobbingblobofsodium-whiteglare.TheTechmarinecarefullyremovedaringofprayerbeadsfromarotarylockandpoweredopena

series of thick steel hatches. Inside, therewere consoles and panels of such diversity and intricate

workings that Rafen was instantly reminded of theBellus’s bridge deck. “A question,” he said toLucion.“Whichoneofthesedoesthemachine-spiritforthepowercoreinhabit?”Lucion frowned, then pointed at a large, ornatemodule. “Here. Although the spirit-programme

extends itselfout throughtheentirereactorsystem, tendingto thefusionheart, thecoolingfactors,theregulatarium…”Rafen didn’t understand most of the tech-priest’s terminology, but he grasped enough for his

purposes.Hedrewinabreath.“Thepower-spirit.Iwantyoutokillit.”Lucionblinked.“DidImishearyou?Rafen,perhapsyouaretakingthistesttoofar,butIcannot—”Heshookhishead,raisingthebolter.“Notest,priest.DoasIsay.”TheTechmarine’sfacedrainedofcolour.“Whatyouaskismadness,brother.EvenifIcould,such

adeedwouldenragethefusioncore.Itwouldreachcriticalpotentialityinmomentsanddetonatewithenoughforcetopunchaholeinthisplanet.Wewouldallbedestroyed!”“Arkio,too?”AtlastLucionunderstoodwhatRafen’sintentionswere.“Oh,HolyTerra,no.Brother,please!Iwill

havenopartofthis.”HebegantobabbleandRafentunedhimout; thetech-priestwouldnotassisthimanyfurther.He

noddedattheconsole.“Thisone,yes?”Withoutwaitingforconfirmation,Rafenraisedhisgunandunloaded a full clip of bolt-rounds into the device. Lucion screamed, his voice lost in a suddenclarionofwhoopingsirens.TheTechmarinestaggeredforward,shakinghishead.“Wha-whathaveyoudone?Whathaveyou

done?”Rafenreloadedhisweapon,slammingafreshcliphome.Hewastryingtofindananswerforthe

priestwhen the rush ofmetal-shod feet signalled the arrival ofmoremen. Figures in red armourappearedatahatchontheoppositesideoftheroom,visiblethroughthesmokefromtheconsoleandthestrobesofwarninglanterns.“Weheardgunfire—”oneofthemshouted.“Traitor!”howledLucion.“Rafenhasturnedagainstus!”Theautomatic reactionof theMarineswas to raise theirweaponsand fire.Rafenwheeledaway,

lettingoffa trioofwildshotsashewent througha tuck-and-rolloutof theaccesshatch to the liftshaft.StabbingstreaksoftracercutthroughthecontrolchamberandLucionwashitinthecrossfire.Hespuninplaceandstumbledagainstthewreckedconsole.RafenmadeittothemetalcageastheotherSpaceMarinesdivedoutofthehatchafterhim,bolters

chattering.PushingawayallthoughtsthathistargetswerefellowBloodAngels,hefiredback.Returnfireblazedoverhisheadandstruckpartof the lift’scabling,severing it inablareofnoise.Rafenexpectedthecagetodropsuddenlyintothestygiandarkat thebottomoftheshaft,but theoppositehappened, the bolts cut into the counterweight control, and suddenly the lift platform shot upward,trailingstreamersofsparks.TheaccelerationthrewRafentothedeckandpinnedhimthereastheliftracedheadlongtowardthecircleoflightabovehim.Inside the chamber, Lucion inched himself forward, using one hand to keep his intestines and

preomnororganfromspillingoutofhisbellywound.Here,surroundedbythelightsandsoundsoftheOmnissiah’smostholycreations,theTechmarinefeltaliveevenashisbloodleakedfromhiminbrilliant red runnels.He tookhisotherhandand tossedawayhisgauntlet, so thathis last sensationwouldbe the touchofhis flesh against the sacred technology.Luciongripped the thick switch rodbeneaththerunethatread:“Emerg.Scram.”intheoldtongueandturnedit.Withasullenflicker,thelights inside the fortresswinked out as Lucion cut off the fusion reaction before it could becomecritical.“Novictoryforyou,turncoat,”hegasped,“novictory.”

Thetech-priestsinsistedonre-consecratingtheroombeforetheywouldsettoworkinit,andthattookthebetterpartoftheday,butasShenlong’sfeeblesunbegantodipbeneaththehorizon,theIkarifortressandthedistrictarounditeruptedwithlightandpoweronceagain,andthepeoplecheeredforArkio’sbeneficenceinsavingthemfromthedarknessandcold.Theiridoldidnotheartheirthanksgivingthroughtheveilofragethatshroudedhim.“Answers!”

he thundered atSachiel, the sheermomentumof his anger rocking the priest backonhis heels. “Idemandanswers.Whatwarpspawnfilthcoulditbethatwoulddaretoentermyfortressandrenderitimpotent?Tellme.”Stelesmoothedhisformalrobesasheentered,givingacursorybow.“Ishalldoso,GreatArkio,

butImustwarnyou.Thenewsishard.”“Hard?”hespat, turningfromSachieltostalkacrosstotheinquisitor.“Youthinkmesomechild

youmustkeepinsulatedfromtheillsoftheworld?Tellme,Stele,orI’llripitfromyou.”Theforceoftheyouth’swordsactuallymadeStelestumbleforabriefmoment.Theawfullightof

the black rage danced inArkio’s eyes, turning the patrician, handsome face into that of a fanged,angeredgod.Arkio’saspectmirroredthesacredtapestryofSanguiniusinhisblood-thirstthathunginthecloistersonBaal.“Lord,IhavepreparedashuttletotakeusbothtoBellus.ItisnotsafehereonShenlongforyouanymore,”Stelebegan,recoveringhispoise.“YouwillunderstandmyreluctancewhenIexplainmyself.”Hegesturedatthephotoncandlesaroundtheroom.“Thecowardlysaboteurinourmidst,theviperatourbreastattemptedtosmotherthewillofthemachinesthatempowerthisedifice.Hadhesucceeded,hemighthavecausedacatastrophe.”“Explain,lordinquisitor.”Sachielventured,earninghimselfaleadenlookfromArkio.Stele continued, finding themeter of his performance. “Were it not for the selfless courage and

sacrificeofBrotherLucion,themachine-spiritwouldhavebecometurbulent,perhapstounleashthefireoftheatomfromitsheart.”Hetookacalculatedpause.“TheIkarifortressandalllivingthingsforsixkilometresineverydirectionwouldhavebeenimmolatedinanuclearfirestorm.”“Whodidthis?”Arkiohissed.“ArogueWordBearer?OneofIskavan’shostthatescapedthenetof

ourexecutionsquads?”Theinquisitorbowedhisheadsadly.“No,Blessed.ItsickensmetosaythataBloodAngelwasthe

culprit.”Arkiofrozelikeastatue,hiswingssnappingrigid.Behindhim,Sachieltookacautiousstepcloser.

“Andhisname,LordStele?”askedthepriest.“Isuspectedtherewasanapostateinourmidstwhenthemind-witchVodearrivedwithGallioand

his other assassins.” Stele sneered. “I have since learned that the vox of the late Brother-SergeantKoriswasusedtosendamessagetoBaaltosummonthem.TheycameonlybecausethebetrayerinourmidstcalledouttothatfoolDante,andbidhimsendkillerstoendyou,GreatArkio.”“AmanstillloyaltoDante,totheoldorder,here?”Arkio’svoicewavered,incredulous,sosureof

hisownmajesty.“AfterallthemiraclesIhaveenacted?”Stelenodded.“Butgraverstillishisidentity,Blessed.”“Namehim.”Sachielsnapped.“NamethistreacherousbastardandIwillhavemypersonalhonour

guardhunthimdownandtearhimapartlikeapreybeast.”Theinquisitorwantedsobadlytosmile;butthatwouldhavespoiledtheact.“Mylord,thetraitoris

yourbrother.ThetraitorisRafen.”TheroarofinchoateangerthateruptedfromArkio’sthroatstrucklikeanelementalforce,echoing

acrossthecityzonesinbalefulthunder.

CHAPTERSEVEN

Thestreetwasalivewithgunfire,shotsclippingatRafen’sheels,whiningoffthecobblestopunchcratersinthewalls.TheBloodAngelmadeadaringmove,leapingoffalowwalltolaunchhimselfbehindthecoverofacargopod.Hesnap-firedaburstathispursuers,notexpectingtodoanymorethanmakethemkeeptheirheadsdown.Rafenglimpsedthemasfleetingimages,theredoftheirarmourmatchinghis,thebrilliantgoldof

theirhelmetscatchingthelight.Sachiel’shonourguardhadcaughthiminthealleysandhehadledthemonamerrydancethroughthewarehousedistrict.Eachtimetheytriedtoboxhimin,hefoundarouteoutoftheirclosingnet,buteachescapewasbecomingmoredifficultthanthelast.He checked the sickle magazine on his bolter, half-empty. Rafen frowned. The gold-helmeted

trooperswerewearinghimdown,makinghimwastepreciousammunition.Thereweresimplymoreof them than there were of him, and sooner or later Rafen would become too fatigued or toodistracted to fight themall.Therewouldhavebeena timewhenwouldhave relished thechance tofightagainsttheeliteoftheBloodAngels,testinghisskillsagainsttheminawargame—butthiswasno exercise, and the battle-brotherswho dogged him did not bear harmlessmarker shells in theirguns.Thehonourguardhadbeengivenoneorder—tocapturehim,deadoralive.Rafenchancedaquick lookaround. In thispartof the factorycityponderousmonorailhauliers

carried crates of shells andwarheads back and forth between store yards and assembly lines. Tallconstructiontowersclimbedintothedirtysky,dwarfingthebluntwedgesofthefabricationbarns.Heconsideredhisoptions—unlesshecouldfindawaytoescapeSachiel’smen,theywouldrunhimintotheground.Itwastakingallhiseffortjusttostayonestepaheadofthem,andasingleerroronhispartwouldturneverythingagainstRafen’sescape.Shotsrangofftheexteriorofthecargomoduleasthehonourguardsfoundhisrange.Asurgeofheatpressedathisbackasaplasmablastburntawideholeinthemetal.Hehadsecondstomakeadecision.Rafen’seyesfellonanenclosuresurroundedbyracksofmissiletubes.Thebuildingwasdarkand

silent,probablyservingasatemporarystorehouseforthemunitions.Itwoulddo.TheBloodAngeltook his last smoke grenade and flicked off the pin with his thumb. Dropping the metal egg, helaunchedhimselffromcoverandintoafull-tiltrun.Heheardshotscrackingafterhim,andthenthehollowcrumpofdisplacedairasthegrenadeexploded.Athickveilofmetallichazefullofcomplexchemical strings emerged and filled the canyon of the street. The honour guard came on,movingslowly through the smoke, the visibility of their helmet optics curtailed sharply by the discharge.Their heads bobbed in silent conversation, messages flickering between them on an encodedfrequencythatRafen’svoxcouldnotread.Beyondthem,Rafenthrewhisshoulderintoawoodendoorwayanditsplinteredunderhisweight.

Hedashedinsidetobegreetedbyaforestofwarheadsrangingbackthroughthebuilding.Hellstrikesbuilt for thewing roots of Lightning fighters andMarauder bomberswere bound like cordwood.Therewere the fat cigars ofManticoremissiles,mounted onwooden stays ready to be loaded onfiring platforms. The shells of incomplete Atlas-class megaton bombs stood vertically on theiraerofoil fins, theunfinishedwarheadsalmost scraping thesupportsholdingup thecorrugated ironroof.Rafenshoulderedhisbolterandwovethroughtheinertsteeltrunks,slippingdeeperinside.Sachielwouldneverstophuntinghim,thatmuchwascertain.Rafenhadtakenhischancetoendthis

madnessonceandforallinthereactorcore,buthisspur-of-the-momentplanhadcollapsed.Hehadstood for long secondson the roofof the Ikari fortress,waiting for the eruptionof fusion fire toconsumehim,but itnevercame.Onceagain,he foundhimself running,and this time therewasanentireplanetofzealotsathisheels.Rafenneededtogatherhiswits,toplanhisnextmove,butaslongasthegolden-helmedtrooperschasedhimhewouldbeforcedtostayonthedefensive.SachielwouldonlyrestwhenRafenwasdead—andsohewouldhavetofindawaytodie…forthemoment.Therewas a rattle ofmetal above, and theBloodAngel froze, for amoment believing that the

honour guard were coming across the roof for him; but then the sound grew into a rushing,chattering roar and he realised it was the rains. Shenlong’s rust-brown skies opened, releasing adownpourofpollutedwater thatclatteredoff themetal roofof themanufactorum.Runnelsof thin,russet liquidpenetrated throughbreaches in thecorrugated iron,poolingon the stone floor.Rafencaughtthenoiseofheavybootssplashingthroughshallowpuddles.Sachiel’smen followedhim into thewarehouse,holstering theirguns as theyentered.Agesture

fromtheveteransergeantcommandingthemwastheonlyordertheyrequired,andasonetheydrewtheirclosecombatweaponsandspreadouttosearchthebuilding.NoneoftheBloodAngelswoulddaretodischargeaboltorbeaminhere.Asinglestrayroundcouldendalltheirlivesinaheartbeatifitstruckalivewarhead.Rafen moved. On a raised catwalk he located a set of unfinished and skeletalManticores on a

cradle.Witharoughjerk,herippedfreethemetalpetalsprotectingtheinnerdetonatorunit,exposingittotheair.Likemostoftheothermissilesinthestoreyard,thehalf-builtManticoremunitionswereemptyof theirvolatilepromethiumfuelandstill lackedthedenseexplosivematrix thatwouldgivethemtheirmurderouspower—butthedetonatorrodswereinplace,andthosealoneweretheequalofadozenkrakshells.Rafentorefibrouswiresfromthemissile’sinnardsandusedthemtotieaquartetoffraggrenadesinplace.Hismakeshiftbombwasalmostcompletewhenthedrummingoftherainwasjoinedbyanewsound—therippingsnarlofachainsword.Rafen reacted instantly, barely dodging the blow from the melee weapon. The honour guard’s

strike flashed past himwith a blare of tungsten-alloy teeth, cleaving thewoodof the cradle into awhirlwindofspittingsplinters.HerolledbackastheSpaceMarinestruckoutagain,reboundingoffastanchion.Intheconfinesofthecatwalkgantry,Rafenhadlittleroomtomanoeuvreandthetipofthechainswordbladecutintohisarmour,skitteringoffthechestplateandaway.Theblowleftafinger-widechannelinhiswargear.“Filthy apostate,” snarled a voice from inside the gold helmet, “You’ll bleed for your perfidy

againsttheBlessed!”Rafenparriedathirdlungewithanironwoodrodhesnatchedfromthecradle,but the shimmering chain-blade bisected his substitute weapon. The BloodAngel pressed his freehandtohishelmet,initiatingavoxlinktotheotherhuntersinthewarehouse.“Ihavehim.Formonme—”Rafensprangforwardbeforehecouldfinishthesentence,handsclawingintotheshoulderpadsof

hisopponent.Withasuddendownwardmotion,Rafenbuttedthehonourguardacrossthebridgeofhishelmet’snose,crackingtheopticlenses.TheshockoftheblowstaggeredtheMarine;Rafenwastooclosefortheattackertoturntheswordonhim,andhestumbledbackwards.Thehonourguard’srightfootslippedbackalongthedeckingandintospacewherethegantryended.HisbalancefledandtheBloodAngelfellawayfromRafenwithanangryhowl,thechainswordtumblingfromhisfingers.TheotherMarinecollidedwithanestof tool racksandslammed into thestone floorwitha flat

crashofsound.Winded,hestillhadenoughimpetustodrawandfirehisboltpistol,sendingasprayofshotsbackupatthecatwalk,inhisfuryignoringtheriskofaricochet.Rafenrecoiledandgrabbedat a knife-switch set on the gantry, yanking it downwards without conscious thought. The releaseopenedasetofclampsholdingadrumofHellstrikesabovethem,andthecanisterfelltheheightof

thewarehouse,flatteningthehonourguardbeneathitliketheblowofasteamhammer.Rafenshookoffadizzy,sicksensationashewatched theSpaceMarine twitchanddieunder the

tonnage.Ithadallhappenedsofast.“Primarchforgiveme,”hewhispered,hisbloodrunningcold.“Ihavekilledabattle-brother…”Hehadalwaysknownthismomentwouldcome,fromtheveryinstantthat he had heard Sachiel decry Dante and exhort the BloodAngels to turn on their heritage, butnothinghadpreparedhimforthephysicalshockitbroughtwithit.ThebloodofaBloodAngelwasonhishands.Andhewillnotbethelast,Rafenadmittedtohimself.A voice cried out from below him, and Rafen glimpsed red armour and gold masks flashing

betweenthefeaturelessgreysoftherocketfuselages.“There!”cametheshout,Above.“Closeinonthetraitorandtakehim.”Traitor.Rafenfeltdislocatedfromrealitytohavethathatedbrandturnedonhim,butinhisbeating

heartheknewthereversewastrue.Hestooped,diallingthefusesettingonhisgrenades,andyankedthefiringpin.Bolt-roundshissedpasthisshoulders;thehonourguardshadclearlythrowncautiontothewindafterhekilledoneoftheirnumber.Rafen ducked behind one of the inertAtlas bombs and pressed his shoulder into it, rocking the

tubularfuselageonitspallet.Thetallmetalpipewallowedandshifteddangerously.HethrewhimselfatitagainandtheweightoftheAtlasshiftedsuddenly,tiltingawayfromhim.Rafenstaggeredbackalongthegantryasthehollowtubefellagainstanotherofitskind,inturnknockinganotheroffitsbase.TheAtlashullsranglikebellsastheyimpactedeachother,andtheytotteredlikegiantninepins,rippingthroughstanchionsandscatteringSachiel’smenbeneaththem.In theconfusion,Rafengrabbedachaindanglingfromthesupportbeamsandswarmeddownit,

swinging to land ina readystanceon the stone floor.He threwa last lookat thegantrywherehisjury-rigged timebomb laycountingdown the secondsandsank tohisknees.Therewasacirculargrateinthefloor,surroundedbysmallriversofrainwaterpoolingfromeverypartofthebuilding.Digginghisfingersinthemetalgrid,Rafenletoutacryofeffortandpulledatit.Agedboltsgavewayinsnapslikebreakingbone.Anymoment now.Tossing the grate aside, Rafen pitched forward into themurk of the drainage

channel, where fast-flowing floods the colour of tilled earth raced by, swelled by the suddendownpour.He fell into the grip of the sewerwater and let it drag him away, scraping his armouracrossmuck-encrustedwalls.Thehonourguardswerereachingforhimevenastheignitersinthefraggrenadesburntdownto

nothing. The explosives blew apart in a ball of orange thunder, catching the detonators inside theManticores in sympathetic annihilation. In a tenthof a second, themissiles detonated, rippling fireinto cases of battle-ready rockets. Flame set flame, fire birthed explosion, and the entiremanufactorumrippeditselftopiecesinablood-redhellstorm.Kilometres away in the Ikari fortress, a wall of noise cracked the ancient glass of the chapel

windowinadozenplaces.

Sachielpressedonthroughthecorridorsof theBellus,hisstrideneverslowingasChapterserfsscrambled amongst themselves to get out of hisway.The news boiled inside him; the SanguinaryHighPriestwaswoundsotightwiththemessagehecarriedthathethoughthewouldblurtitoutatanysecond.SpaceMarinescametoparadegroundattentionashepassed,mailedfiststappingtheirchestplatesinsalute,whileservitorsandserfsbowedlow.TherehadbeenatimewhenSachielwouldhavechastisedhimselfforenjoyingthevenerationof

the faithful. In theCredoVitae therewere edicts andoaths theSanguinaryPriestswere required toavow, dedicating themselves to the sacred Blood of the Chapter, foreswearing any glory forthemselves,butthoseold,weakwordsseemedsodistantandremovednow.Sachiel’sheartswelledat

thenotion.SinceArkio’sAscendanceamomenthadnotpassedwherethepriestdidnotthinkhimselfblessed

tobearwitnesstosuchamiracle—andmore,tobecalledbytheRebornAngeltoserveashisadjutantandloyalcommander.AsmilecreptacrossSachiel’sfaceasheenteredthecavernouscathedraldeck,making his way through the cloisters toward the inner sanctums. Since his youth, he had neverdoubtedthathewastouchedbygreatness.Manyofhiscontemporarieshadcalledhimarrogantfordaring tovoice suchnotions.Let themhave theirpetty jealousies,he thought,becausehehadbeenproven right. Great Sanguinius, to whom Sachiel had dedicated his life, had rewarded the priestbeyondhiswildestdreams.Tobepresentataneventofsuchmagnitudeshowedthelieofall thosewhohadupbraidedhim.Sachielwasnomerepriestnow;hewasthehandoftheBlessed,anditwasglorious!Hisfingersfelltothevelvetbagathisbelt,andthereplicaoftheBloodAngelschalicehecarried

there.Notforthefirsttime,SachielimaginedthemomentwhenhewouldtakethetrueRedGrailinhishandsandaccepttheroleofHighPriestovertheentireChapter.Thethoughtofitmadehisbloodrush.Power,nakedandbeautiful,waswithinhisreach.The priest walked on alone into the sanctum sanctorum, where only the chosen of Arkio were

allowedtotread.NormallytherewouldhavebeenMarinesonguardherebutthedevastationwroughtbythetraitorousRafenhadrequiredtherecallofallavailabletroopstotheplanet.Abriefflickerofdispleasure crossed his thoughts, but he banished it. Sachiel had hoped that he would be able topresenthisnewstotheBlessedinperson,butCaptainIdeonhadinformedhimtheirhighlordwasatrest in his chambers. Sachiel accepted this with a nod, even a god-prince rich with a primarch’spotency would need repose on some occasions. Instead, Sachiel would attend Inquisitor Stele andrevealwhathadtakenplaceonShenlong.Theexplosionofthemissilestoreyardhadobliteratedsixsquare blocks around it. Some of the priest’s most loyal men had been turned to ashes in theconflagration,buttheirsacrificehadbeenworthittoendthelifeofthethorninhisside,thefaithlessanddeceitfulRafen.Hewouldswearuponit;nothingcouldhavesurvivedthecatastrophicblast.“Youaredead,Rafen.”Sachielsaidtothecool,stillairofthecloister.Justutteringthewordslifted

ahugeweightfromthepriest’sheart.Eversincetheyhadfirstlaideyesupononeanother,SachielandRafenhadbroughttheworsttraitsineachother ’scharactertothefore.NowtheBlessed’sbrotherwasdead,thelasttieholdingArkioandhisloyaliststotheoldcodesoftheBloodAngelswasgone,andwithitSachiel’shatedantagonist.Hecouldadmititnowandreleasethefeelingthathadbuiltupinsidehim.Sachiel loathedRafen’squiet strength, themanner inwhichhewouldsneerat everyutterancefromthepriest’smouthasifheweretheholderofordainedoffice,notthepriest.Hehatedtheeasyway that Rafen had earned the respect of men he served with, while Sachiel remained aloof andindifferenttotheSpaceMarinesheoutranked.ThepleasurehewouldtakeinannouncingRafen’sendwouldbeassweetasafineamasecliqueur.TheSanguinaryPriestpausedbeforeastainedglasswindowshowingSanguiniusattheConclave

ofBlood,andsomethingintheturnoftheprimogenitor ’sfacesuddenlybroughtRafen’sfinalwordsbacktohim.Pietyalonewillblindyou.“Fool.”Sachielspatouttheinsultautomatically,butevenashedidtherecameanaggingirritation

inhismind.Hehatedhimselfforadmittingit,butthedeserterhadstirredupdoubtswiththatdamningutterance.Sachiellookedintotheeyesoftheprimarch,searchingforclarity,andallowedhimselftheindulgence of hesitation. Arkio’s path had brokenwith the tradition of his Chapter, shattering oldcodesofconductthatbeforehadseemedinviolate.AstheRebornAngelhadsaidhimself,theywerenowwritinganewchapterinthehistoryoftheSonsofSanguinius,andthelawslaiddownbyagedand passionless warriors like Dante were too confining, too limiting. On some deep level, theindoctrination of decades of BloodAngels dogma and training rebelled at the thought ofArkio’s

BloodCrusadeandhisEmergence—butSachielhadseenArkio’sdivinityshinethrough,hehadfeltthedivineradianceoftheSpearofTelestouponhim.Thiswasproof,notthedustywordsoflong-perishedmenfrommillenniapast.Hismomentofweaknessgone,SachielresumedhispassagetoStele’squarters.BrotherSolushad

informedhimthattheinquisitorhadleftordersthathewasnottobedisturbed,butSachielwavedhimaway.SuchcommandsdidnotapplytotheHighPriestoftheReborn,andbesides,SachielknewthatStelewouldbeaspleasedashewastohearofRafen’sdeath.Thathisbodyhadyettobefoundwasmerelyaformality;aftersuchadetonation,allthatwouldremainofArkio’sbrotherwouldbarelybeenoughtofilladrinkinggoblet.Stepping past the empty sentry alcoves, as Sachiel approached the door to Stele’s chambers he

tasted something strange in the air.A faint, almost undetectablewhiff of brimstone and dead skin.Shaking the sensationaway, thepriestopened thedoorsandstepped inside.Theatmospherewithinfelt thick and greasy with dark potency. He heard voices; some seemed to be coming from animpossibledistance,othersmadeupofrustlingandwhisperingsibilance.Amidallofthemheheardthe inquisitormurmuring a gruff entreaty.Withoutwaiting to announce himself, the priest pushedthroughthevoluminousfoldsofblackcurtainsenvelopingthedoorwayandemergedinthechamber.Whathesawtheremadeawordlesscryofshockeruptfromhislips,andSachielgropedforhis

pistolinself-defence.Stele’s sanctumwas an arched chamber big enough to house a Thunderhawk dropship with its

wingsatfullspread.Standsofphotoncandlesgaveweak,yellowishlightthatdiedfightingtheheavyshadows that wreathed the room. There were a few biolume globes drifting about on anti-gravimpellers,but they toowerestrangledby thearcane, liquiddark thatenvelopedeverything.Toonesidewasatwitching,steamingsculpturecutoutoffast-decayinghumanflesh.Sachielknewthesmellof putrefaction all too well from hundreds of battlegrounds. It was misshapen and ugly as sin, aparodyoflifewarpedbythehandofsomecrazedsculptor.Bonesandcartilageinthebodyhadbeenreorderedtopresenttheshapeofahunched,muscularform.Itborethemoststrikingresemblancetothearmourof theWordBearers that theyhadexecutedonShenlong.The flesh-thingopenedawetorifice in itsheadand letout anangrymoan; andwithhisback to thedoor,Stele cranedhisneckaround to spy the stunned priest there behind him. The inquisitor was pale and damp withperspiration,thenormallyhardandunyieldinglinesofhisgranitefacesoftandpallid.Thepriestwasonlyawareoftheminthemostperipheralofways,however,hisgazewascaptured

bythethingthattoweredoverallofthem,writhingandflutteringinanimmaterialbreeze.Itlookedlikeapict-printofahurricane,afrozentowerofwindandstormwreckagethathadsomehowtakenontheaspectofalivingcreature.Hismouthagape,Sachielunderstoodallatoncethattheshapewasmade of paper.All about thewalls of Stele’s chamber, books lay open, spines broken and coversdiscarded, their pages torn free to make up the matter of the daemonic creature that rustled andcrackledlikedeadleaves.“Whatisthis?”Irritationbubbledoutofthefleshyavatar,steampoppingfromblistersallacrossits

skin.StelegulpedairandturnedtofaceSachiel,shruggingoutoftherestrictingcloakabouthisneck.

“You conceited imbecile,” he hissed, the effort of anger trying him to the limit. “I said nointerruptions.”Sachieltriedtomakehismouthwork,butnothingseemedtocome.Hecouldnotlookawayfrom

theintricatefoldsofparchmentacrossthedaemon’sheartless,monstrousface.Inacrushingblowofrealisation, thepriest suddenlyunderstoodwhathehad stumbled into—Stele, the trusted servantofArkio,was in leaguewith theRuinousPowers.The thought galvanised him into action.Hehad toescape, to get away and warn the Reborn Angel that a viper far more venomous than his errant

brotherlayintheirmidst…“Killit,”rippledthedaemon,thewordshiddeninthesoundoffanningpages.“No.”Stelegrunted.“Ineedhimalive…Heisusefultome.”Thepriestbroughthisguntobearandhisfingertightenedonthetrigger,buthemadethemistake

ofmeetingStele’sbalefulgazeandabruptlyallfunctioninhismusclesceased.“Nnnnnn—”Sachiel’smind flashed to themoment on Cybele, when the inquisitor had held aWord Bearers sniper in asimilarmind-lock.Witheverygrammeofhiswill,thepriestpushedagainstthepressureinhismind.“Ah.”Stelemanaged,eyeswatering.Theeffortwashardonhim,comingsosoonafterspending

hisabilitiesontheBloodAngelsmeredaysearlier.Hewavered,andfeltthephantomgripbegintoslacken.Pagesofancientdogma,documentsfilledwitharcanescriptureandilluminatedproofs,rustledpast

him,shiftingandreformingintoshapesthatmighthavebeenmen,mighthavebeenbeasts.“Youwishtopreservethisman-ling?”askedthecreature,breathsofpollutedairgustingthroughitsmanifestedform.“Yes,greatMalfallax.”Stelebitout.“Weneedhim.”“Verywell,”saidthedaemon,andthepapersspunaroundSteleinanarrowtyphoon,theiredges

slicinghundredsoftinycutsinhisbareskin.Fromitsbeatingheartstillfloatinginthedepthsoftheempyrean,MalfallaxprojectedaconcentratedportionofitselfintotheopengateofStele’scorruptedmind.Ablackpearlof rawwarpbrieflyentered the inquisitor—andsuddenlyallhisweaknessandfatiguemeltedaway,replacedbyagiddypsychichead-rush.“Agift,”thecreaturewhispered.ColourreturnedtoStele’sfaceandhisteethbared.“Youaremostgracious,SpitefulOne.”Hiseyes

boredintoSachiel’s,flayinghismindopentothepsyker ’sdarkwill.“Kneel,priest,”hecommanded.Sachiel foundhehadnoresistancewithinhim,andhedidashewasordered, thereductor inhis

handfallingtothetiledfloor.Hisheadswamwithasickeningroilofrecall,ashisrecentmemoriesreplayedinflash-frameblinksofpain—StelespunthoughtheSanguinaryPriest’sthoughtsaseasilyashemightthepagesofabook.Stelegaveagrantoflaughter,readinghisintent.“YoucametotellmeRafenwasdead?Suchtrivia

ishardlyworthmynotice.”ItwasasifSachielwerekneelingontheedgeofabottomlessabyss.Thepriest’smindflutteredlike

aninsectcaughtinsettingamber, teeteringonthebrinkofahorrificrealisation.Stele is taintedbyChaos,and if that is so theneverythinghehas touchedhasalsobeensulliedbycorruption.By thebloodoftheprimarch,whathavewedone?Iamtainted.TheWarriorsoftheReborntoo?TheSpear?EventheBlessedArkio…Stele shook his head. “Cease,” he said, halting Sachiel’s thoughts with a gesture. “No, priest. I

cannothaveyouventuredownthatroad.Yourroleisyettobecompleted.”Hiseyesglittered,andtheinquisitorthrewanephemeraldartintotheBloodAngel’smind.SachielscreamedasSteleunfoldedhispsycheanddeftlyexcisedhismemories,paintingblacknessoverthemfromthemomenthehadenteredthesanctum.AdrooloffluidissuedoutofthecornerofSachiel’smouth.“Frail littlemen-beasts,”Garand’s latest avatar saidwith a grimace, flakes of dead flesh falling

fromitwitheachword.“Itsmindmaybreakbeneathyourministrations.”“I think not,” retorted Stele, withdrawing the needle of his psychic power from a blank-eyed

Sachiel.“Hewillremembernothingofwhathesaw.”Rough laughter crackled through the singed papers. “Ah, Stele. You grow ever distant to your

humanrootsandclosertouswitheveryoneofyourgestures.”“Itpleasesmetohearyousaythat.”Stelesaid,withaforcedsmile.Inhismind’seye,Malfallax’s

darkseedofpotencywaslodgedinhissoul,glisteningwiththeeightfoldstaruponitssurface.“Andwhile it gratifies me to accept your mark, Great Changer, perhaps it might be better for you to

withdrawitfornow—”Thepagesgave an angrywasp-swarmvibration. “Keep it,my friend. Itwill be important in the

daystocome.”“Weshallbegin,then,”gratedGarand.Withashrugofbrokenbones,theWordBearersWarmaster

withdrewfromhismouthpieceandletitdie.Gently, the ripped shreds of paper began to drift apart asMalfallax retreated from thematerial

realm, leaving the inquisitorwith only a decaying corpse and the silent priest for company. Stelewatched thepages settle, atonce refreshedandnewlyafraidof theboonhismonstrousmasterhadgivenhim.

Thedockwasalivewithnoiseandmotion,menswarminglikeantsaroundtheironwharvesandgantries. Dozens of ugly, bullet-shaped orbital tenders waited at rest on vertical rails, plumes ofvaporised liquid oxygen hissingwhite clouds into the air. Cargo pods, normally crammed full ofmunitions crates and warheads, were being loaded with human freight instead. Hundreds andhundreds of men, a rag-tag army clad in cloaks and scavenged armour, filed solemnly into themodules.Hereandthere,tallfiguresinredarmourcouldbeseen,callingoutordersanddirectingtheerstwhilesoldierstotheirdeparturepoints.Rafenwatched fromhis vantage point in a burnt-out building, studying the ebb and flow of the

crowds,watchingtheorderedprocessionwithapracticedeye.HekepthisvoxonthesamechannelastheBloodAngelson thedocks, listening to their tersecommunicationsashe rested, tending tohisinjuries. In the sewers, the explosion of the warehouse had forced a plug of filthy water into afloodheadandcarriedRafenalongwithit,tossinghimlikeapieceofdebris.Sealedinsidetheairtightframeofhispowerarmour,theSpaceMarinewasforcedtorideouttheshockwaveaseachimpactagainstthetunnelwallsthrewhimclosertounconsciousness.Theheadlongsurgealongthepipeswasablurofrushingnoiseandbluntpain,buteventually thefloodspent itselfanddepositedhiminanoverflowchamberonthelowerlevelsofthefactorycity.Rafenflexedhisarm,grimacing.Hisskinwasmarredwithbroadpurple-blackbruiseswherehehadsufferedimpactafterimpactandthelimbwasslackwhereithadbeendislocated.Carefully,hegrippedhiswristandtugged;withadullclickofcartilage,thejointpoppedbackintoplace.Heshruggedoffthepainthatcamewithit.Using an abandoned chimney stack,Rafen had climbed until he found his current hide.He took

stockofhissituation,examininghisweaponsandwhatlittlehehadinthewayofsupplies.TheBloodAngelconsideredhimselfbehindenemylinesnow,andconductedhisbattledrillaccordingly.Hehadnoideahowlonghewouldbeabletogounnoticed;certainlyitmightbedaysbeforetherubbleofthestore yard was picked through and the bodies of the dead men counted. He had a window ofopportunity,butitwouldclosequickly.Aroarofrocketexhaustdrewhisattentionbacktothedock.Withaclangofsteelonsteel,alaunch

gantryfellawayandoneofthetendersthrewitselfintothedullskyonaplumeofyellowflame.FinsfoldedoutofthecraftasitascendedandRafenwatcheditgo,disappearingintoasicklyglowasitvanished through the lowcloudcover.Another fiftyormoremen forArkio’shelotarmywereontheirwaytoBellus.Therewasaflurryofordersoverthevox.Thenextlauncheswerealmostfuelledandreadytoliftoff.Legionsofzealots,allofthemadornedwiththecrudehalo-and-spearsymboloftheWarriorsoftheReborn,shiftedbackandforth,eagertoboardtheshipsthatwouldtakethemtobewiththeirmessiah.Arkiowasaboardthebattlebarge;Rafenhadcaughtacursorymentionof“theBlessed”andpieced

together the meaning. With his brother on the Bellus and the army Sachiel had raised from theShenlongijoininghimintheirdroves,thesituationwasclear.TheBloodCrusadewasbeginning,andsoonthemassivewarshipwouldbedeparting.Rafenreplacedthegauntletabouthisarmandre-sealed

hiswargear ’slinks.TwicenowhefailedtobringthistravestyoftheEmperor ’swilltoanend.Alonewith Arkio in the fortress, it had been his own weakness that had stopped him from ending hissibling’s life; and in the reactor core, blind chance had prevented the destruction of the tower. IfBellusleftwithoutRafen,thenStelewouldbefreetomanipulateSachielandArkiotowhateverendstheinquisitorchose.TheMarine’smindreturnedtothevisionhehadseeninhismakeshiftretreat,asithadmanytimesinthepastfewdays.Heheldhiscombatknifeinhishandoncemore,thenslammeditintohisbootsheathwithgrimfinality.

Beneath the dock platform was a web of supports extending into the dry mud of the riverbed.Orangeknotsofrustclusteredateverygiantboltandweld,releasingrainsofruddyfineswitheachrambling blast of exhaust from the tenders launching above. Rafenmade hisway through brokencatwalksandbentsparsandselectedapadonthesouthernedgeofthedockwherespindlySentinelwalkershadjustcompletedtheloadingofabraceofcargopods.TheBloodAngelemergeddirectlybeneaththegapingmawsoftheship’senginebells,whichtwitchedandhissedasthepilot-servitorinthe nosecone ran through the final countdown sequence. The modules packed with soldiers weresealedshut—theywouldonlybeopenedwhenthetenderhadsafelylandedinanairtightbayonBellus—soRafen could not enter there. The cockpit, high above him at the tip of the rocket,would notsufficeeither.Toosmall,toofilledwitharcanemachineryandAdeptusMechanicuscomplexity.There would be only one route for a fugitive to board the battle barge. He could not chance

accompanying other Blood Angels aboard a shuttle or Thunderhawk. Even with the dirt smearedacrosshisarmour,hecouldbeseenandrecognised.OnceaboardBellus,itwouldbeadifferentstory,thevast starshiphadmanyplaces foracarefulsoul toconceal itself.Rafengrabbedamaintenanceladderandhauledhimselfupit,intothenestofpipesandfeedchannelsthatpouredpromethiumfuelto theengines.As therocketshummedinto lifeabouthim,hepushedhisbroadforminto theopenframeworkandfoundavee-shapedstanchionthatwouldaccommodatehisarmour.Thethunderoftheenginesbuiltintoadeafeningcrescendo,eventhroughthenoise-dampeningprotectionofhishelmet.Rafengave a last look at the life-supportmonitor gaugeonhiswrist; all the vacuum seals onhisarmourwere intact.Witheffort,hedughisceramite-hardened fingers into thegirdersandwedgedhimselfinplace.RafenclosedhiseyesandbeganaprayertoSanguiniusasgravitylaidintohim.Clingingtotheundersideofthetender,Rafenhungoningrimdetermination,asthedock,thecity

andthenthecloud-shroudedlandscapeofShenlongfellawaybeneathhim.

CHAPTEREIGHT

Inthedarkenedcornersofthelandingbay,whereonlytheblindrat-hunterservitorswoulddaretoventure,Rafenwasconcealed.Withcare,herubbedawaythethinpatinaoficethathadformedontheoutershellofhisarmour,therimesoffrosttinklingashisgauntletbrushedthemaway.Thetwinbeatsof theBloodAngel’s dual heartswere loud in his ears as the organsworked to supply additionaloxygentohisbloodstream,counteractingthelingeringside-effectsofthetripthroughhardvacuum.Rafen’s armour had protected himwell, but still the incredible cold of space had leached the heatfromhim,and theMarine’smuscleswere tense.Typically,aSpaceMarinewouldhave luxuryofachemical sacrament before venturing into the void. The philtre granted by the Chapter priestsstimulatedtheAstartesmucranoidgland,turningtheirsweatintoacomplexcompoundtoprotecttheskinagainst suchpunishingextremesof temperature.Rafenhadnosuchdefence,however, and thekissoftheairlessdarkhadtouchedhimwithitsfullforce.Themachinesandmeninthelandingbaymovedinsynchronyaseachnewtransportarrived.The

shuttlespausedjust longenoughtodisgorgetheirloadsofhelottroopersbeforeoverheadgantriesliftedtheshipsintorefuellingsocketsordirectedthembackouttobelaunchedonareturncoursetoShenlong.EachnewgroupofArkio’szealotswasherdedawaytowardthebilgedecksbyaclatteringservitor or a Chapter serf. The serfs held shock-staves to keep themore curiousmembers of theWarriorsoftheRebornincheck.Rafenusedthemagnificationfunctionsofhishelmetopticstowatchthemotionofthebondsmen;nowandthenabattle-brotherwouldintervene,overseeingtheactivity.Inwardly, Rafen felt uncomfortable and conflicted. He was in every sense past the point of no

return.Itfeltwrong,alien,tobeinthemidstofhisbrethrenyetalsointhethickofhisadversaries.Everyfibreofhisbeingrebelledagainsttheunwelcome,gut-sicksensation.Likeallhiskind,RafenhadcometoknowthecamaraderieofhisfellowBloodAngelsasanextendedfamily,abrotherhoodinallsensesoftheworld.Byrights,Belluswassupposedtobeasanctuary,aplacewhereheshouldhavefeltsafeandcontent—instead,itwasadangerzoneaslethalasanyfieldofmeltaminesorbio-web.AslongasSachielthoughthimdead,thensurprisewasonhisside,buthehadtobecarefulnottosquanderhisonlyadvantage.Toomanymenaboard this shipknewhis face, so togounhoodedwouldbeaninstantdeathsentence.Evenwithhisarmoursealed,ifhefreelymovedamongtheotherAstartes it would only be amatter of time before someone questioned him. Rafen needed to findsomewherethathispresencewouldnotbechallenged.Heshookoffthechillasanothercargolighterrumbledpasthim,thebullet-shapedvesselsettling

intoalandingcradlewithaheavybumpandashoweroforangesparks.Thebrassandcast-ironrigfoldeduparoundthetransportlikeagrippinghandandturnedthevesseltopresentittoadebarkationramp.Rafenmovedoutofhiscoverandbalancedontheballsofhisfeet.Aswithmanystarshipsinthe service of theEmpire, theBellus’s tech-priests encouraged the battle barge’smachine-spirit tolowerthegravityinthedockingbayssothatcargocouldbemanipulatedmoreeasily.Rafenfeltlighthere,andhepreparedhimselfforthenecessarychangeinhisgait.Acloudofwhitevapourbelchedfromthelighter ’sdorsalvents,momentarilyoccludingtherampandthecradle.Rafensprangoutofhishidingplace,using themist tocoverhim. In the long, lopingsteps thathehadbeen taught, theMarinecrossedbeneaththeslow-movingshipandemergedatthefootoftheramp,asifhehadbeenmeanttobethereallalong.Thecargotransportertouchedtherampedgewithahollowthud,andall

acrossitshullgull-winghatchesopened.Menboiledoutoftheshipinaraggedwave,allofthemshiveringandtrembling,somefromthe

coldandothersfromawe.Rafensawacoupleof themdropto theirknees.Atfirsthe thought theymighthavebeeninjured,butthenherealisedthattheywerekissingthedeck,genuflectinginhonouroftheshiptheysawasArkio’ssacredvessel.Alloftheconscriptshadweapons,afterafashion.Somehadguns,othersswords,spearsandotherbladedthingsthathadamakeshiftlooktothem.Manyofthemwore armour fashioned frommetal junk, although a few sported dark ballisticmesh tunics.Planetary Defence Force hardware, Rafen noted; the wearers were either former members ofShenlong’sPDFthathadsurvivedtheWordBearersinvasion,orelsetheywereopportunistswhohadlooted the bodies of the dead. The Space Marine’s expression soured. Either way, they were notworthytosetfootonafightingshiplikeBellus—eventhelowliestoftheChapterserfswerenoblerthanthisrabble.Thewarriorscame toa stumblinghalt as they saw theBloodAngel standing therebefore them,

cowedbyhispresenceasmuchasby the incredible sightof thecavernous starship interior.Rafenwouldwarrant thathardlyanyof thesemenhadever left theirbirthworldbeforetoday.Hescannedtheirfacesandfoundsomewiththevacant,transportedlookofatruefanatic,whileotherswerebrutaland crude, themost viciousofShenlong’sdregs.WhySachiel had selected thesemenwasbeyondRafen’sunderstanding;noneofthemwouldevermeasureuptothestandardsoftheChapter.Alltheyweregoodforwouldbetodieonthepointofanenemy’sweaponandclogthemuzzlesofgunswiththeircorpses.Hesuppressedtheurgetosneer.Suchtacticswerebaseandignoble,bettersuitedtothetraitor-kinofChaosthantotheSonsofSanguinius.“Lord?”Aserfapproachedhimwithaquestioninglookonhisface.“HowmayIassistyou?”Rafenglancedatthebondsman.“Youaretoescortthesemenbelow,correct?”“Yes,lord.Istheresomeproblem?”Heshookhishead.“No.ThepriestSachielhasorderedthatIaccompanythisparty…Hewishesme

tooverseethetransfer.”Theserfnodded.“Asyoucommand,lord.”Withawaveofhisshock-stave,theservantdirectedthe

soldiersfromtheramp.Theshabby figures filedpasthim, someof themaverting theireyes,others studyinghimwitha

baldmixofhateandfear.Amongthemen,asinglefacesuddenlyleaptoutatRafen—asallow,drawncomplexionatoptheremainsofaPDFofficer ’suniform.ThemanbowedhisheadashepassedandRafenwatchedhimgo.Hehad last seen thesoldier inside the Ikari fortress,afterSachiel’shonourguardshadgunneddownagroupofinnocentsasrepudiation.Themanhadactuallythankedhimforthe“murdergift”giventohissisterwhodiedin thecrossfire,as if itweresomegreatblessing.Heseemed drained of all spirit now, a hollow shell stained with blood and driven only by belief inArkio’sdivinity.Rafenfollowedthegroupalongtheechoingcorridorsoftheshipandintotheopencavernsofthe

dark lower levels.Tocall them“decks”wouldhavebeenamisnomer: thehull spaces resembledastygiancanyonwithplatesoffungalgrowthextendingfromthesteepwalls.Sectionsofdeckingjuttedouthereandthere,neverbroadenoughtomeetthevastskeletalribsoftheship’sinnerhull.Websofcable,netsandrope-bridgesloopedthemtogether.Thewarriorsmadethemselvesplacestoliveandsleepfromjury-riggedhammocksanddiscardedcargopods.Itwaslikeaseriesofbrokenbridgesarchingoveravalleysofarbelowthatthefloorwaslostinutterblackness.Thenewarrivalsweregreetedwithawelcomeofcold-eyedglaresandveiledthreats.Helostsight

of the PDF officer as themenwandered into the junkyard community, the law of thewild takingprecedenceasfiguresamongthegroupstussledforplacestobeddown.Rafenleft theChapterserfbehindandwalkedthroughtheencampment,pickinghiswayalongcreakinggangplanksandbetween

saggingtrestlescutfromsalvage.Therewere loudhailersdottedabout theplace,eachconnectedtotheship’sprimaryvoxnetworkwithknotsofwires,thehastyworkofservitorsunderthedirectionofInquisitor Stele. Spitting with reverb and interference, data-slate recordings of Sachiel’s speechesfrom the victory on Shenlong were playing, interspersed with snatches of Imperial hymnals.Conscriptsclusteredaroundsomeofthespeakerrigs,joininginwiththebroadcasts.EverywherethesymboloftheRebornAngelwasdaubed.Rafenpausedatonesuchdisplayandranafingeroverthestill-wetmarking.Heraisedhisglovetohisbreathergrilleandsniffed:itwashumanblood.TheMarine peered over the edge of the gantry he stood on, wondering howmany of Arkio’s

chosenhadalreadymettheirendinthedarknessbelow.ForallSachiel’shighwordsandoratory,thethousand-strongarmyseemedtobefilledonlybythemostheartlessorthemostfervidofShenlong’spopulace.TocastthemasmeninservicetothegloryofSanguiniuswasaninsulttotheGreatAngel.Rafenmoveddeeperintothedecks,losinghimselfinthedimlylitspaces.Downhere,therewould

benoman thatknewhis faceandnoone tocallattention tohim.Hewouldhide inplainsightandprepare;whentheWarriorsoftheRebornwerecalledtoarms,hewouldbetheretostophisbrother—ortodieintheattempt.

“The last group of lighters is docking now.” Solus announced in his sombre, level voice.“Engineseersreportpowertodrivesisoptimal.AllritesofpassagearecompleteandBellusisfreetomakesail.”“Proceed.”Thestatic-chokedorder issuedoutof thevocoder implant inBrother-CaptainIdeon’s

neck, his face immobile. “Make preparation for warp transit themomentwe reach the translationpointco-ordinates.”Solushesitated;anothermanmightnothavenoticedit,butIdeonhadservedwiththeBloodAngel

as his aide-de-camp for decades and theman’smoodswere as clear to the starship captain as thetemperamentsofhisvessel’smachine-spirit.“Wastheresomethingelse?”Ideonprompted.AsBellusmovedawayfromShenlong, theplanetslippedfromtheforwardviewport,andwith it

thewreckageoftheAmareo,someofitstillburningasittumbledinahigherorbit.Solusglancedatthefragmentandthenaway.“Lord,I—”Thebrassleavesofthebridgeirisretractedintothewallswithawelloiledhissofhydraulics,and

Sachiel entered, his ubiquitous honour guards two steps behind him. Ideonwatched him approachthrough his own eyes and those of the bridge’s sentry servitors, the data flowing into his brainthrough the complex forest of mechadendrites connecting him to his command throne. Solus fellsilent,hiswordsswallowed.TheSanguinaryHighPriestseemedfatigued,thereweredarkcirclesbeneathhiseyesandhisface

was paler than usual. Through the infrared monitors Ideon registered a slightly higher skintemperatureforSachiel.Still,heseemednolessanimatedthanusual,andthebrightnessinhiseyeswasastrongasever.Thepriestthrewanodtothecaptain.“BrotherIdeon,whatisthedispositionoftheBlessed’sbattle

barge?”“Fullyprepared,Sachiel,”hereplied.“Thenavigatorassuresmethattheprayer-computationsfor

thecoursetoSabienhavebeencompleted.Belluswillentertheempyreanasscheduled.”“Excellent.GreatArkiodemandsnothinglessthantotalefficiency.”Sachiel’svoiceroseattheend

ofthesentenceandheblinked,asif theeffortofthewordsweredifficultforhim.Hiseyesrangedaround thebridge,over thehunchedchorusofservitorsministering tocogitatorconsoles,untilhefound Solus at the wide oval observation window. He homed in on the Blood Angel. “Brother?”Sachielbeganinnocently.“Youseemdistracted.Whatcanitbethatvexesyou?”Soluslookedup,notatSachiel,buttoIdeon.Thecaptainremained—asever—anunmovingstatue

ontheraisedcommanddais.Solusturnedtothepriestafteralongmoment.“Sachiel,Iwouldhaveyouansweraquestionforme.”“Nameit,”thepriestsnappedback,alittletooquickly.“Whatenemydowegotoface,brother?”Sachielnoddedagain.“Ah, Isee.Thematterof theAmareo’sdestruction,yes?It troubledyou to

givethefiringcommandonaChaptervessel,diditnot?”WhenSolusdidnotanswer,hepressedon.“Brother,listentome.Themenaboardthatshipwereassassins,senttomurdertheRebornAngelandpurgeanyonewhogavefealtytohim.Thattruthisself-evident.”HecamecloserandtouchedSolus’arm.“Youdidtheonlythingyoucould—youhelpedsavetheBlessed’slife.”Soluswouldnotmeethisgaze.“I…IhavetakentheoathforArkioandtheHolyLance,Sachiel,

andIwouldnotflinchagainstitsdemandsbutthis…”Heglancedoutthewindowatthestars.“Thosemenwereourbattle-brothers,wefoughtalongsidesomeofthem.Thatwewereforcedtoexterminatethemlikesomecommonhereticsturnsmygut.”Thepriest’svoicewaslow,butitcarriedacrosstheroom.“Solus,friendSolus.Iunderstandyour

feelings.At prayer, I too confessedmymis…”Hehalted, his face colouring. Sachiel ran a fingeroverhis twitchingeye,asifhewerebanishingsomeinnerpain.Afteramomenthecontinuedasifnothing had happened. “Misgivings, yes. ToLord…Lord Stele.”He smiled. “But I realised, thosemenhadignoredthepathoftheprimarch.Thattheycameherewithmurderintheirheartsmadethemourenemies.”“Wecouldhavetalkedtothem.”Solusblurtedout,“reasonedwiththem.Perhapstheywouldhave

thoughtdifferentlyiftheyhadunderstoodArkio’sgreatmiracle—”“No,Solus,no.”Sachiel’sexpressionbecameoneofdeepsadness.“Theywere lost tousbefore

theyevenreachedShenlong.LikethosewhofellfromtheEmperor ’sgraceinthedarkyears,thosemenhadchosenapaththatpittedthemagainstus.Itwastheirchoice,brother,notyours.YouandI,allofus remain true to thePureOne.”Henoddedat thedistantwreckageof the strikecruiser. “Theyforcedourhand.Thosedeathsareontheirownheads.”“Yes.”Solussaidfinally.“Forgivememyoutburst,priest.Thesepastdayshavetestedmyfaith.”“Astheyshould.”Ideon’svoicebuzzedandrumbledfromhisvox-implant.“Arkiobringsusanew

leaseoflife,andBelluswillbethechariotthatcarriesittotheendsofthegalaxy.”Sachiel’sheadbobbed.“Soshallitbe.”

Bythepowerofforcesthatdwarfedhumanunderstanding,thefabricofspacebegantowritheandshift around the prow of theBellus.From the placeswhere thought and energy became a unifiedmélange,therawmind-stuffofthewarpspilledintotherealityofmatter,slicingopenaraw,bleedinggate in the void. Itwas a violentminiature supernova in the blackness, awhirlpool intowhich thebattlebargethrewitself.Time,elasticandflowinglikemoltenwax,envelopedtheshipandprojecteditacrossvastdistances.Bellusvanishedfromtherealmofmenandwasgone,casttothewildcurrentsandenergystormsoftheimmaterium.In another place and time, the same unthinkable inversion of natural laws was occurring. A

leviathan ship emerged from the phantasm of the warp in a violent burst of exotic radiation,coruscating colours and sickly hues of lightning trembling across the vast iron hull. Space itselfseemedunwillingtoletthevesselexistwithinitsbody,asifthevastcraftweresomemetalliccancergrowingandpolluting thevoidwith itspresence.Sheddingenergy insheavesofarcanepower, thebattleshipfellfromtheempyreanrealmandrevertedtosteady,obduratereality.Enginemaws,theirexhaustbellsasbigasvolcanoes,tookonbloodyglowsasthrustspewedforthfromancientfusiondrives,andwithdeadlypurposethewarshipMisericordemadespeedtowarditsdestination.Shewasahorrificsight,anengineoftorturealmostamileinlength,andonMisericorde’sguns

manymewling human worlds had been broken just as men had been broken on the racks of herdungeondecks.Inaspect,thebattleshipwasabroaddagger,aserratedarrowheadformingherprow,ahaftofrazorsgrowingbackwardstopresentthedorsalcastleofherbridge,andbelowtheplungingknives of skeletal stabiliser vanes. Guns protruded from every shadowed corner of the craft,punchingthroughtheredskinofthehulllikebrokenribs.Theshipwasadornedwithskullsbythethousand.The largestweremade frombones, ravaged from thebodiesofdeadenemiesand fusedintoshapeasbadgesofvictory.Attheverybowofthevessel,adesignhadbeenshapedoutofbrokenpieces of hull metal and ceramite; centred on an eight-pointed star was the screaming face of atoothed,horneddaemon,shoutingdefianceandblackhateatallofMisericorde’sfoes.Liketheskulls,thesigilwasconstructedfromwarsalvage,butinsteadofbone,themonstrousfacewascutfromtheshipsandarmourofAdeptusAstartesunluckyenoughtofallbeforethevessel.Inthecommandsanctumatopthebridgecitadel,figuresmovedinaprecise,carefulballetaround

thepresenceoftheWarmasterGarand.Theflayedshapesofservitorspassedtoandfro,clawedmetalfeetscratchingacrossthedecksastheywentabouttheirbusiness.Therewasnospeechexceptforthelow, bubbling bursts of machine code between the slaves. The sound reminded Garand of thechatteringpredatorinsectsonhisChapter ’sblightedforge-world,Ghalmek.Before him, he could see theMisericorde’s hololithic display presenting their destination—the

shrine planet Sabien. It resembled a ball of age-worn iron, like thewarshots spat from cannon onprimitivepre-nuclearplanets,itmadeGarandthinkinstantlyofFortreaQuintus.RecalloftheplanetsenttheChaoswarlord’smindbackthroughtheveilofmemory,thousandsofyearsdroppingawayinaninstant.TheWarmaster ’s thin tongue slipped out of his lips to lick absently at his chin barbs. Yes, the

similaritywasquitemarked,andtheconnectionbroughtaglowofanticipationofthecommander ’sdarkheart.AlthoughageshadpassedsincethedayGarandhadsetfootonQuintus,hismemoryofthegloriouscampaigntherewasstillasvibrantandsensuousasever.Thescentofspiltbloodcametohisnostrilsandheclosedhiseyes,allowinghimselftowallowin

theluxuryofitforamoment.Garandhadbeenthesecond-in-commandtoBrother-CaptainJarulckinthose days, when outwardly theWord Bearers still paid lip service to the corpse-god ofmen. Hesmiled.Eventhen,theChapterhadalreadyembracedtheperfectionoftheeightfoldpath,andtheblindfoolsoftheotherLegionAstarteshadbeentoopathetictoseethetouchofChaosintheirmidst.GreatLorgar,primarchoftheWordBearers,hadpersonallychargedtwothousandmentothesubjugationof the planet, and theyhad taken to itwith battle-lust in their eyes.Garand recalled Jarulck’s fieryoratorytotheQuintiannatives,thewordsofpowerthathaddrawnthecommonerstotheirbannerintheirdroves.When theymarchedon theirenemy’s stronghold in the lastdaysof theconflict, theirhordesoffollowershadperishedinthethousandswhiletheWordBearerslostlittleoftheiroriginalnumber,thebodiesofthezealotsformingtherampsthatGarand’stroopsusedtofordthebattlements.FortreaQuintusfell,butnotfortheEmperor.WithJarulck’sblessing,Garandhadbeenchargedwiththeindoctrinationofthelocals.HeensuredthatalthoughtheworldoutwardlypaidfealtytoTerra,itssecretfacewouldforeverbeturnedtowardChaos.WhenHorusroseonhisgreatjihadagainsttheweakmen-filth,Garandhadswelledwithprideto

learnthattheQuintiansslaughteredeveryEmperor-fearinglackeyontheirhomeworldwithinhours.Forhispart,GarandcementedhisplaceonthepathtohighcommandofaWordBearersLegionwiththeblessingofGreatLorgar,butFortreaQuintushadalwaysremainedclosetohisblackheartasthesiteofhisfirstgreatvictory.NowthesmileonGarand’shornedandtwistedfacefellaway,hisaspectbecomingcrookedwithilltemper.TheQuintusConversionwasatonce thesourceof theWarmaster ’sprideandhisenmity—for it

hadnotbeensoonafterthedeathofHorus,whentheLegionsofChaoswereindisarrayandscattered,

that his prized victorywas rendered into ashes by the superciliousBloodAngels.Garand and hishostshadbeendistant,fightingrunningbattlestowardtheirnest-worldsintheMaelstrom.TheWordBearershadbeencutoff fromtheplanets theyhad turned; theyhadnotbeen there to resist theso-called“cleansing”bythecorpse-god’slegions.GarandlistenedinimpotentangertothescreamedtransmissionsofastropathsastheBloodAngels

sweptacrossFortreaQuintusandleftnothingaliveintheirpath.Theprizedachievementofhisyouthwas burnt to ashes, kindling within him a dense, diamond-hard hate for the Sons of Sanguinius.Centurieshadcomeandgonesincethen,buttherancourhadneverdulled.Inaworldofwarriorswhonurturedtheirhatelikekeenknives,GarandhonedhisloathingoftheBloodAngelsintosomethingutterlymurderousandunyieldinginitspurity.Sabienfilledtheshimmeringholoscreenandbeyondit,therealplanetwasvisibleasanoccluded

disceclipsedbyaswollen, red-orangesun.TheWarmasterwasalmostsalivating inanticipationofthe battle to come.He loved the impotent screams of idiot piety his enemies releasedwhenever aWordBearershostmadeplanetfallononeoftheirpathetic“holyworlds”,howtheywailedandweptto learn that the leg ions ofChaos had sullied their ridiculousworship of that dead freak they sorevered. As the Book of Lorgar commanded, the Word Bearers were unique among the apostateLegionsoftheChaosMarines.TheyaloneretainedthepriestsanddogmathattheirChaptershadkeptduringtheirfealtytoEarth,butoncetheyhadbenttheirkneetotheRuinousPowers,theirsoothsayersandpsykersembracedthemarkofChaosUndivided, theBlasphemousHex.Now,whenworldsfellbeneath their might, the Word Bearers would erect massive monuments to the dark gods of theMaelstrom,theywouldprofanethehumanchurchesandrituallydeconsecrateanythingthatpurportedto glory the name of the Imperium.This andmuchmorewas preciselywhatGarand intended forSabien.TheplanetwasashrineworldfortheBloodAngels;theWarmasterknewlittleofthereasonsthat

the Astartes whelps had named it thus, and he cared even less. It had been the site of some greatconflict and in their asinine,maudlinway, theBloodAngels had isolated the planet andmade it aplaceofpilgrimage.Sabienhadabsolutelynotacticalvalue.Ithadnobases,nomineralswaitingtobeexploited,notevenapopulationtobetormentedandkilled—butfortheWordBearerstosetfootherewould be as much a blow to the Astartes Legion’s honour as a spit in the eye of their preciousSanguinius.“GreatWitchPrince,”aservitoraddressedhimfromthecontrolpitathis feet.“Wewillachieve

orbitmomentarily.Theassaultforceawaitsyourblessingfordeployment.”Garanddidnotgracetheslavewitheyecontact.“Sendthem.Havemypersonalshuttleprepared.I

willattendoncethetroopshavebeguntheirconcealment.”Asmuch as he detested the turncoat Stele, hewas forced to admit that the human had provided

exactly what was needed. With the galactic co-ordinates of Sabien—a world whose location washidden from all but the most secret Blood Angels star charts—it had been easy for the swiftMisericordetoreachtheplanetbeforetheotherplayersinStele’slittledramaarrived.Hefoundtheinquisitor anunctuous, arrogant sort, far too enamouredwithhisown intellect.Hadcircumstancesbeenaltered,Garandwouldhavebeenonlytoopleasedtohavetornthepsyker ’sthroatfromhisneck—and perhaps I may still have that opportunity, he told himself—but it was the High BeastMalfallax’swishthatStelebethetooltheywoulduseagainsttheenemy.Hefrowned; theeyeof themightyAbaddonwasupontheirendeavourhere,anditwouldnotgo

well if itcame tonothing.GarandhadgivenmuchofhisLegion to thescheme,allowing that foolIskavantobesacrificedforthesakeofStele’scomplexgambits,buthecouldnothaveanythingbutcolddislikefortheinquisitor.Afterall,atraitortohisownspecieswasstillatraitor,andwhocouldknowifhewouldnotturncoatagain?Ofcourse,therewerethoseintheImperiumthatcalledGarand

andhiskinsmentraitortoo,butlikemostoftheEmperor ’ssheep,theydidnotunderstand.NoChaosMarinewasatraitor.Ifanything,theywerethemostloyalofthemall,castingasideeverythingthatmadethemweaktogivefealtytothemostruthlessforcesinallcreation.Garand’s reverie fell away as he studied the thick ring of asteroids girdling Sabien in a wide

elliptical belt.He imagined theywere all that remainedof somemoon,nodoubtobliterated in theconflict thatmadeSabientheblightedsphere itwas today.Repeatersfromthebattleship’smachine-spirit confirmed that the shaggy cloudof stoneswas rich in dense, sensor-opaqueores thatwouldadequatelymasktheMisericorde’spresence.Heglancedup,andsawthetwinkleoflightsswarmingaway from the vessel’s hull. The Warmaster ’s clawed hand tightened around the blackened ironrailingbeforehiminraptexpectancy.ThegrandplanofhisdaemonlordMalfallaxhadmovedonestepcloser to itsdeadly conclusion.Thisdaywouldendwith theBloodAngels throwingoff theirallegiance to theEmperorandembracingChaos,or itwouldendwith theirbones joining thoseoftheirbrethrenalreadyperishedinSabien’scrypt-yards.

Thedream.Atfirstithadbeenaminorirritation,somepieceofhispastlifeimpingingonthechangesthatfate

hadwroughtuponhim.Itcameinthosemomentswhenhewasatrest,thebriefperiodsofreposenowlessandlessnecessaryasthewondersofhisnewbodyrevealedthemselvestohim.Inthebeginning,itwasonlywhenArkiosleptthatthedreamcametohim—butnow,astheBloodCrusadetookitsfirststeps, theapparitionhadbegunto infiltratehiswakingmoments.Wheneverhismindbegantodriftfromthemattersathand,itwasthere.Arkiokneltbefore thevast friezeofSanguinius in thegrandchamber, themajestic face looking

downuponhim,mirroringhisowninitslinesofjawandchin,inthenobilityofmouthandeye.Hissilver-whitewingsmovedof theirownaccord,gentlyunfolding inawhisperof sound, the tipsofthemdroopingtopoolaroundthegoldenshouldersofhisartificerarmourlikeacloakofsnow.Atrest thereon the altarof redBaalite sandstonewas the sanctifiedmetal cylinder thatheld theHolyLance.Arkioopenedthecasesothehoney-colouredlightfromtheancientweaponcouldbefreetoilluminate him. As he laid eyes on the Spear of Telesto, so once again Arkio felt the hum ofunchainedpowerinhisveins.ThepreternaturalpotencyoftheBloodAngelbloodlineranstronginhim.Arkiobowedhishead;noneof theChaplains in their black armour and skull-maskhelmetshad

daredtoapproachhimwhenheentered,andwithoutanyspokenordersfromhim,theyhadsealedthechamberclosed.Hecouldnotseethem,butheknewtheyhadgatheredatthefarendofthecathedral’saisle,watching him in awe-struck silence.Arkiomade the sign of the aquila, the reflexive gesturesoothinghim.“PureOne,hearme.Grantmeguidance.Iamyourvesselandyourmessenger.Iwillknowtheway

ofSanguiniussoIwillmakeitmyown.Grantmeunderstandingofthisvisionthathauntsme…”Arkio closed his eyes and let the dream unfold in his mind. For days now as theBellus raced

through thewarp, he had been holding it back, resisting the pull of it. The touch of the empyreanseemedtonurtureitandstrengthenitsinfluence.ItbeginsonBaal,asiteverdoes.AttheheadofathrongofmenandSpaceMarinesamillionsouls

strong,Arkiomarches towards the gates of the fortress-monastery. At his shoulders areAstartes inarmourallshadesofcrimson—notjustBloodAngels,butwarriorsfromtheFleshTearersChapter,theBloodDrinkers, theAngelsVermilionandmore.Therearemen in theblackof theDeathCompany,theirgreavescrossedwiththeredsaltiresthatmarkthemasfallentotherage,buttheywalkwithhimastranquilastheirbattle-brothersatrest.Hispresencealoneisenoughtocalmthem.The wind-scoured gates open before Arkio and the monastery presents itself to him and his

crusaders.Everyfigurewithin,MarineandApothecary,tech-priestandChapterserfalike,allofthemdroptoonekneeandbowtheirheadsastheypass.ThereisnoneoftheroughclamourandbellowedshoutsthatthepeopleofShenlongpouredforthforhim—hereonBaal,onlythewindisheard,andthesilenceofthesefaithfulmarkstheirdevotiontohim.NoneshallchancetospeakinthepresenceoftheRebornAngel,suchistheirreverence.Throughthesilentcloisterandintothegrandhall.HeseesthefacesofthegreatestBloodAngelsas

theysalutehim,fisttochestashestridespast.Argastes.Corbulo.Lemartes.Moriar.Vermento.Eventhehonoureddeadareheretogreethim,TychostandingshouldertoshoulderwithLestrallio,andforamoment,hespiesKorisamongthem,hisaspectaflicker,thenshadows.At the altar beneath the towering statues of Sanguinius and the Emperor stand Dante and

Mephiston.ThereisamomentwhenbothmenmeethisgazeandArkiofearsthathewillbeforcedtodrawtheSpearuponthem;butthenboththehighcommanderandtheLordofDeathbowtohim.Then,andonlythen,arethevoicesofhiswarriorsraised,andtheyshakethepillarsofheavenastheycallhisname.Butfromtheshadowedcorners,somethingdarkandfoetidapproaches.

“Lordinquisitor,whatarewetomakeofthis?”saidDelos,hisvoicebarelyconcealinganedgeoffearfulconcern.“See,thelightthatfallsfromtheBlessed.”Stele’sfacesouredashewatchedtheplayofyellow-whitecoloursoverArkio’sgoldenformatthe

other end of the grand chamber. The hot glow of the Spear of Telesto crackled around him likesummerlighting.“Yes,Chaplain,youwerecorrecttosummonme.This…ThisisamanifestationoftheRebornAngel’swill.Hepraysforguidanceinourcomingbattles…”Thelietrippedeasilyoffhistongue.Delosexchangedglanceswithhisfellowpriests.“Buthisface…Itshiftsandmoves,LordStele.I

havenotseenthelikebefore…Andhiscries.IwouldswearthatArkioisinpain—”“No!”Stelesnapped,“YoucannotfathomthewaysoftheHolyLance,priest.Arkiocommuneswith

thebloodwithinhim,nomore.Hemust…Hemustbegivensolacetodothisalone.”“Butwecannot—”“Youmust leave,” the inquisitor thundered. “I will stand sentinel for the Blessed.”WhenDelos

hesitated,hestabbedafingeratthechapeldoors.“Out!”Stele’svoicebecamearoar.“BySanguinius’name,Icommandit.”Themomentthewoodendoorsrumbledshut,Stelebrokeintoaruntowardthealtar.Therewasa

stenchintheair,anditwasasfamiliartotheinquisitorasthesoundofhisownbreathing;deadflesh,hotblood,coldiron.Chaos.

CHAPTERNINE

Thedreamcoloursanddarkens.Itbecomesanightmare.Andnowalltransformsintoashes.Inthemomentofhisgreatesttriumph,aseveryBloodAngellivinganddeadpaysfealtytoArkio’s

name,theshadowsgatheringinthecornersofhisvisionfloodintosight.Awashofagedbloodsweepsovereverything,turningthemenaroundhimintorottingcorpses,theirbodiesflayedunderthetide,ceramite turning to paper, skin curdling over greying bones. The stone walls crack and crumble,ageingaeonsinseconds.Baalitselfcriesoutinagonyatthepollutionspillingacrossit.Thedeadarea tide about him, oceans of clawed skeletal fingers scoring into his golden armour. Dante andMephistonclutchathim,screaminginpain,shrivellingeyesbegginghimforthereasonthathehasforsakenthem.Arkio’smouthwillnotformthewords,andhedoesnothaveananswerforthem.Allheknowsisthat

thisgreatdecayishisfault.Thewave of ruin reaches his boots and climbs him like fast-growing fungus. The golden armour

turnstotarnishedbrass,thendullrust,thencrumblingdust.Arkio’svoicefindshimintimeforasoul-shatteringscream.

ThesoundthatleftArkio’slipsmadeStelepauseasheskiddedtoahaltatthefootofthealtar.Thecry hammered at the walls of the grand chamber, vibrating the stands of photon candles and thecensersthatdangledfromchainshighabove.Hethrewanervousglancetothedoors—theyremainedclosed.AtleasttheChaplainhadtakenhisordertoheart.ItwouldnotgowellifDelosandhisbattle-brothersobservedwhatwasabouttotranspire.StelegrimacedashesteppedintothehalocastbytheSpear.The touchof theweapon churnedup complex, heady emotions inside the inquisitor, andheforcedthemtothebackofhismind.Hewouldneedallhisabilitytoconcentrateonthehereandnow.Arkio was trembling, his skin white and wet with perspiration. Shapes seemed to be moving

beneaththesurfaceofhiselegantface,thin,worm-likeciliapushingatthecurveofhischeekbonesandhis jaw.Stele swore a curse; theyoung foolhadbrought thisonhimself.Unwilling to simplyleavetheHolyLancealone,Arkiohadspenttoomuchtimeintheradianceofthedevice,andnowthearchitects of his changewere in danger of spoiling.Dark lesions, hard andblack like rare pearls,wereappearingoverhisneckandforehead.Someofthemhadopenedlikeeyes.“Toosoon,”Stelesnapped.“It’stoosoon.Themutationwasstable,Imadesureofit.”HeshruggedoffhiscoatandplacedhishandsaboutthesidesofArkio’shead.Bitingbackasudden

urgetothrowup,theinquisitormarshalledhisstrengthandlethispsychicsensesextendthroughtheskincontact.Gently,hisfingersbegantomeltintothematterofArkio’sface.

Theworstofthehorrorsisleftforthelast.Everywherehisbattle-brothershavefallen,anewandmonstrousshapetakesform,rebuildingitself

from the debris of bone and armour. Things come.Unhallowed creatures in sick parodies of BloodAngels nobility, their crimson armour stained with the blood of innocents, the white wings of theChaptersigilnowbonesandblades,theredteardropwetwithgore.Horusandteethsproutfromthem;theirabhorrenceoutpaceseventhatofthetraitorousWordBearers.Everywhere,histwistedbrethren

painteightfoldcrosses,throwingbacktheirheadstocallChaostotheirmidst.AirthickensaboutArkiolikequicksand.HereachesfortheHolyLance,thelastbeaconofpurity,

evenastheskinsloughsoffhisbones.Hisfingerstouchthewarm,yieldingmetal…

Arkio’s arm jerked, amarionette pulled by a careless puppeteer, and his fingertips brushed theHolyLance.HotairsizzledaroundthetwomenandArkiowasshovedbackward.Themurkyinfectionsacrosshisskinbubbledandpopped.Outofsightbeneathhisarmouredchest

plate,morecancerousgrowthseruptedacrossArkio’sflawlessbodyandspatyellowpus.Bonyjutsofdistortedmatterpressedat thecageofhisskin.Thefleshof theyoungSpaceMarine,soperfectandmagnificent,wasrottinginside.“No!” snapped Stele. “Not yet. I will not permit it.” Moving through his flesh, the inquisitor ’s

fingersburiedthemselvesinArkio’sspine,probingandfeelingfortheebonyeggofcorruptionthathadbeenplantedtheresomanymonthsearlier.

…andtheSpearofTelestorejectshim.Pain, great stabbing swords of agony more powerful than mortals could comprehend surge into

Arkio.He recoilsandhisbody shifts; the flash-burnedhandknotsandwrithes. Itbecomeanestoftentaclesandclaws.Hetoucheshisfaceandfindsanorchardofspinesandbarbsthere,blackflappingtonguesandrunnyflesh.Theblacktideisinhimnow,rewritinghissoul.Heseesitthere,cuttingthemarkofChaosUndividedintohim.Andthereisaroaringbeastwithinhim,thehatefulheartoftheredthirst,thatwelcomesit.Arkio

teetersandfalls.HehasbecometheUnblessed.

There.Thereitwas,claspingthebonesofArkio’sspinalcolumnlikeanestingspider.Thinlinesofliquiddarknessissuedoutoftheegg-form,thousandsoffeelersinfiltratingeveryorganandelementoftheBloodAngel’sbody.Sodelicate,sosubtleweretheythatonlybyflayinghimopenorrippinguphismindonapsyker-rackwouldanyonediscoverthelurkingpoisoninsideArkio.Itwasablackheartof raw,undistilledChaos.Theobjectwasglassyandhard, apieceof somedecayed thought-formcreatedbytheMalfallax.TheMonarchofSpitehadmadeitfromhimself,grantingtheseedtoSteleonthedaythatthisintricateplanhadbecomeareality.TherewasnotapartofArkiothatwasnottouchedbythemutationstheeggcreated.Itsciliahadinfiltratedallofhim,warpingtheyouth’sflesh;ithadbeenthisthatgrantedhimthegiftofhiswings,hischange,hisEmergence.Stelecooedtotheegg,strokeditandcalmedthemalignantparasite.Hehadtobecarefulnow,while themutationprogressedslowlyandsubtly,thetaintinArkio’sbodywouldlayundetected—butthefoolishwhelp’sobsessionwiththeSpearofTelestohadarousedtheseed.Unlesshecouldquietit,allthesecarefullylaidplanswouldunravel.

Before,herewaswherethevisionended,butnowitwenton.Somethingcomes.Amanincrimsonceramite,untouchedbythemutationandcorruptionabouthim.

Thetidesoffoulnessretreatabouthisfootfalls.Arkio’straitor-selfspitsandloathes.Thereisablinkofyellowlight;suddenlytheHolyLancecrossestheroomandsettlesintothehands

of the new arrival. Arkio, lisping throughmanifold mouths crowded with the buds of crooked newfangs,speakshisname.“Raaaaaaffffffffennnn.”Hisbrotherdoesnotknowhim.Rafen turns theSpearofTelestoonArkioandplunges it intohis

heart.

Betrayed,mutated,changedanddiscarded,Arkiodiesscreaming.

Arkiosaggedanddroppedtothestonefloorof thegrandchamber,hisbreathcominginraggedgasps.Deftly,StelewithdrewhimselffromthefleshoftheMarine’sneck,theskinsealingoverlikethesurfaceofapond.Afewsmall rivuletsofbloodclung to the inquisitor ’s fingersandhewipedthemawaywithasilkkerchief.Thefigureingoldmoaned.“Rafen…No…”StelegrimacedatthementionofArkio’sbrother,watchingthelesionsontheBlessed’sfaceshrink

backtonothing, therawmouthsofweepingsoresretreatinginto thefoldsofhisskin.Onceagain,Arkiowasperfect,analabasteridealofthePureOne.Hiseyesflutteredopen.“Stele?”heasked.“Myfriend?Whathappenedtome?”The inquisitor displayed a mask of concern that hid his genuine annoyance. “Blessed, praise

Sanguiniusthatyouarewell.Ifearedtheworst…”Arkiogottohisfeet,hiswingsfurlingbehindhim.“Isaw…aterriblevision,inquisitor.Avictory

snatchedawaybythetideofChaos.”Stele’sfaceremainedutterlyimpassive.“Youmustbemistaken,Blessed.”Helookeddownathishands,thentothehummingformoftheSpear.“Thelance…”Arkiobegan,

hisvoicecatching,“itturnedagainstme.”“Impossible,”saidStele,histonesoothing.“Suchathingcouldneverhappen.”Heapproachedthe

Spearonthealtar.“Lookhere,GreatOne.TheHolyLanceisyoursalone.Touchit.”Hesitantly,Arkioextendedahandtotheweapon,fingerstracingtheshapeofahoodedfigureon

thehaftofthelance.TheSpearofTelestoglowedbeneathhiscaress.ReliefcrossedtheMarine’sface.“Yousee?”Stelesmiled.“Itwasnovision,Arkio.Justtheweightofdayspreyinguponyou.The

HolyLanceisyours,”herepeated.Inwardly,theinquisitorwasrelieved.Hisministrationshadbeenenough,andthemutationshadbeensuppressedsothattheTelestoweaponwouldnotreacttothem—forthemoment.“Itwassoreal.”Arkiowassaying.“Icouldfeelthehandofthewarpinsideme.”“Yourmindchangesasdoesyourbodyandspirit,Blessed,”saidStele.“Onlyyoucanknowwhat

purposeSanguiniusholdsforyou.Perhapsthis…visionwassomethingofawarning…”“Explainyourself.”Arkiodemanded,hishesitancefallingawayashislordlymannerreturned.“Perhaps…perhapstheGreatAngelisshowingyouwhatwilltranspireifwefailhim…”“Yes…”Arkioturnedaway.“Thatshallneverhappen,Stele.Withyourcounsel,theBloodCrusade

willignitethestarswithitsrighteousfire.”Theinquisitorgavehimselfanodofself-approval.Thecrisiswaspassed.“Indeeditwill,Blessed.

AndwewillbeginwithplanetSabien.”Arkionoddedandwalkedonintothetranseptalone.Stelewatchedthefeathersonhiswingsflicker

ashemoved.Itwouldonlybeamatteroftimebeforethetaintofmutationmadeitselfvisibleagain—butifallwenttoplan,bythetimethathappenedArkioandhisBloodAngelswouldbegloryinginthenameofChaos,andtheywouldwelcomeitlikethegiftthatitwas.

Jetsofspent thrusterdischargeventedfromtheundersideof theThunderhawkasitsettledunderthegravityofSabien.Fromthedeploymentrampattheship’sprowtherewasascrambleofquick,controlledmovement.FourBloodAngels,eachgraspingabolterinbattle-readypostures,fannedoutandsteppedintoawedgeformation.Theireyesandtheirgunsneverstoppedscanningthelandscapeforanysignofmovement.Behind them came a figure towering like a dreadnought, stridingwith cool purpose across the

deck. Two more Marines, one a grizzled veteran, the other a tech-priest, followed at his heels.

“Deploy scouts,” he said, his voice carrying over the rumble of engines as a second and thirdThunderhawklandednearby.“Iwantasecureperimeterestablished,brother-sergeant.Wemayappeartobethefirstarrivals,butappearancescanbedeceptive.”“Byyourcommand,lord.”Theveteransalutedandbrokeintoarun,growlingoutcommandstoa

cadreoflightlyarmouredSpaceMarineoutriders.Theotherwarriorpaused, listeningtoavoiceinhisvox.“MessagefromtheEuropae, lord.The

shiphasattainedageostationaryorbitabovethislocation.Awaitingyourorders.”MephistonsteppedontothesurfaceofSabienandtookalungfulofair.Hundredsofscentsassailed

his heightened sense receptors, his brain quickly processing the smells into familiar categories.Death.Thisplanetsmellsofdeath.“LordMephiston?” asked the Techmarine, hesitant around theChief Librarian. Even among the

membersofhisownChapter,thesupremepsykeroftheBloodAngelswasfearedasmuchashewasrespected.“TheEuropaeistoremainatmaximumbattlereadiness,”repliedMephiston,studyingthelanding

zone.“Whatofthesporadicsensorcontactinthedebrisbelt?”Heglancedup.Above,aghostlywhiteshimmercouldbeseenbisectingtheblue-orangesky—thethickbandofrocksandcapturedasteroidsringingSabien,theremnantsoftheplanet’slargestmoon.“Nofurtherdetections,”repliedtheMarine.“Cogitatorreportsconcludethecontactmayhavebeen

solarrefractionfromicecrystalsorpossiblethermaloutgassing.”Mephistoncurledhislipatthatassessment.“Weshallsee.”Heleftthetech-priestbehindandwalked

out,thesquadoftacticalwarriorsmovingwithhim.HeeschewedtheuseofthemoretypicalhonourguardMarinesonplanetsidemissions;hepreferredthecompanyoflinetrooperBloodAngels,bettertoseefirsthandthedispositionofthementhatLordDantecommanded,bettertowatchforsignsofdissentorcorruption.ThiswasnotthefirsttimeMephistonhadsetfootonSabien.Oncebefore,severallifetimesago,he

had stood in the same place, breathed the same air. He had been a different man then: BrotherCalistarius,amerecodicercenturiesawayfromtheeventsatHadesHivethatwouldremakehimasMephiston,LordofDeath.Yet,asmuchashehadchangedin theinterveningyears,Sabienhadnotaltered at all. The shrineworld remained as itwas, as it had been for hundreds of years after thesmokeandashesofthebrutalPhaedraCampaignhadcleared.Atthattime,SabienhadseenthelargestlossoflifetotheBloodAngelsChaptersincethebattlesoftheHorusHeresy,andwhentheworldhadfinallybeenpacifiedatthecostofuntoldexpendedlives,theImperialChurchhadawardedcustodyofthe planet to the Sons of Sanguinius. The site of their desperate last stand against the enemies ofmankindbecameaplaceofpilgrimage,and ithadbeenonsucha journey that thepsykerhadfirstcometoSabien.Mephiston’spiercinggazecrossedthebrokenridgesoftheskyline.TheThunderhawkshadlanded

inthecitysquare,intheplacewherethelastgreatengagementofthecampaignhadtakenplace.Theopenspacewaslitteredwithfallenmasonryasfarastheeyecouldsee,shatteredsparsofrustedironlaid down upon the crumbling remains of columns. The remnants of architecture created in theancientstylesofOldTerrawereeverywhere.Longhallsandcloistersmingledwithcathedraltowersthat once had cut the skywith theirmagnificence. Now, Sabien’s streets were filledwith drifts offallenstoneandthetowerswerehumbled.Onlyasingleconstructionstillremainedinthemiddleoftheechoing square.Cantedat ananglebyeruptionsof some long-silenced shell fire, a statueonastoneplinthkeptwatchonthedeadcity.Somehow,thefigureofanangelhadneveroncebeenstruckinallthemadnessofthefightforSabien.Itremainedherenow,itsfeaturesworntovagueshapes,asasymbolofhumanwill.TheLibrarianrestedonehandonthehiltofhissheathedforceswordandclosedhiseyes.Gently,

hesummonedtheenergyoftheQuickeningthatcoiledinsidehismind,mouldingitandabsorbingitintohissenses.Theexhilaratingrushofpotencyranthroughhiminashiver,andMephistonallowedhismind toslip freeof its sheathofmeatandbone.Gentleblueglowshoveredaround thehornedskulls that decorated his psychic hood and the Lord ofDeath reached out, searching for life. Theghost of his psy-self slipped through the ravaged streets, a breath of mental power shifting andflowinginagustofwind.Thedeadhad left theirmarkon thepsychic landscapeofSabien. In the ruinedcity therewasno

placewherethescarsofviolentdeathcouldnotbefound.Anguishandrawpainwereburntintothestonework,ascleartoMephiston’ssensesasthescorchedshadowsofhumanfiguresleftbyanuclearflare. The faded screams of Blood Angels hung about the edges of his esper perceptions, thephantoms crowdinghim.Anerve twitched in theLordofDeath’s jaw.Even for aLibrarianof hisawesome discipline, it was difficult to sift through the white noise of the haunted city and searchbeyond.Hefrowned.Thereseemedtobesomethingoutthereattheveryedgeofhismind-sight,butitwasephemeral,hiddenintheclutterofthewardead.Perhaps…Mephiston’sheadjerkedaroundinaswiftmotion,andtheTechmarinefroze,startledbytheaction.

The Blood Angels psyker looked up into the sky. Evening stars were slowly emerging from thedarkening blue, and one steady dot of brightness showed the position of the Europae. “They’recoming,”hewhisperedtohimself,hisvoicetoolowforanyoneelsetohear.Likeanewconstellationflaring into life,Mephiston’s inner sight could see the cluster of glowingminds approaching theplanetathighspeed,andamongthemhecouldreadthestrangeflickersofamentalitylikenonehehadeverencounteredbefore.There was a mumbling crackle of communication from the Techmarine’s helmet vox, and he

glancedupatMephiston.“Mylord,wordfromtheEuropae.ThebattlebargeBellushasarrived.”Henodded.“Iknow.Icantastehim.”

Belluspresentedherhammerheadbow toher sister shipas sheslowed.Thevesselswerealmostmirrorimagesofoneanother, thehugeslab-likehullsbeweaponedwithcannonsandmissiletubes.EachdisplayedahugediskwiththeChaptersigilbeneathagoldencrestoftheImperialaquila,butthesimilaritiesendedatthesurface.AcrossthegulfofSabien’sorbit,thecrewsofbothshipseyedoneanotherwithsuspicionanddoubt.Itwasararesighttoseetwoshipsofthisclassinthesameplace.Such deployments were usually the prelude to war on a huge scale, and there were many BloodAngelsaboardBellusandEuropaethatwonderedifwarwaswhatwouldsoonfollow.On thecommanddeck,Captain Ideon scrutinised theothervesselwithall the tactical acumenhe

would have given an enemy warship. “Solus,” he crackled. “Detector pallets on the port forwardquarterreadwhatlookslikeafluctuationinherdrivecoils.”Ideon’saidenoddedfromhispostattheprimarycogitator.“Agreed,captain.”“Log that information with the gunnery servitors. It may prove useful if we are required to

engage.”At the observation window, Stele turned away from his conversation with Sachiel to face the

captain.“Itsaddensmethatsuchprecautionsmustbetaken,butaftertheAmareoincident…”“Youmayrestassured,thecrewoftheEuropaeareplanningthesameforus.”Arkiosnapped.He

waswoundtightwithtension,andinlongstrideshepushedhiswaypasttheSanguinaryPriesttofacethecommanddais.“Ideon.Doyoudetectanyotherstarshipsinthearea?”ThecaptainblinkedasheaddressedtheeyesandearsofBellus.“No,Blessed,”heansweredaftera

moment.“Nocontactsatthistime.”“It appears that Dante kept his word,” said Sachiel. The priest seemed muted, his usual bluster

quieted. “Perhaps wemay yet see a peaceful path out of this cha—”He stumbled over the word.

“This…Thisdisorder.”Stele threwhimanarchglance.“Indeed.ButI respectfullysuggest thatourwatchwordshouldbe

vigilance.IfCommanderDantedecides—”“Dante is not here.”Arkio broke in, steel in his voice. “I know it inmy bones.He has sent his

second,thepsykerMephiston.”Thegolden-armouredSpaceMarinelookedSteleintheeye.“Doyounotsensehim,inquisitor?”Gingerly,SteleextendedthesmallestofmentalfeelerstowardSabien’ssurface,andjustasquickly

hejerkeditback,likeahandtooclosetoanakedflame.“TheBlessediscorrect.TheLordofDeathawaitsus.”Forthebriefestofinstants,aglimmerofconcerncrossedtheHereticusagent’sface.ArkioapproachedIdeonandnoddedacommandtohim.“Setwarconditionsthroughouttheship,

captain. These are my orders—the Warriors of the Reborn will attend me on Sabien. LaunchtransportsandThunderhawks.IwillmeetMephistonattheheadofmymultitude.”“I have selected a company of Marines, Blessed,” added Sachiel. “Your army will truly be a

glorioussight.”Arkionodded.“Attendme,priest—andyouaswell,inquisitor.Wegotomakehistory.”Stele gave a shallowbow and followed theRebornAngel from the room.Entering the echoing

corridors, he hung back a few steps and spoke urgently into a concealed vox in his collar. “Ulan,listen to me. Come to the landing bay and prepare for planetfall. I will have need of you on thesurface.”“Mephiston?”camethereply.“Withhaste,”heretorted,quickeninghispace.

Elsewhere aboard the Bellus, the cargo lighters were accepting their loads, each of the bullet-shapedshipssealingshutwithawarshotofarmed,zealousmen.Ideon’sorderscrackledthroughtheaironeverydeckoftheship,callingthevesseltoarmsandpreparingthetroopsforalanding.InthedaysthathadpassedbetweentheirdeparturefromShenlongandthearrivalhere,theWarriorsoftheRebornhadgrownrestlessandimpatientforrelease.Eachgroupwaswiredwithanticipationastheyfiledintothetransports,theireagernesstoprovetheirworthtoArkiofaroutweighingtheirfears.Rafencarefullyjoinedtherearofatrailinggroupofhelots,keepingasfarashecouldfromthe

otherSpaceMarinesherding therag-tagarmyinto their troopships.Hidden in the lowerdecks, thejourneyhadpassedquicklyfortheBloodAngelashedippedinandoutoftrance-sleep,hisbrain’scatelepseannodekeepingonehalfofhisbrainawakewhiletheotherslumbered.Rafenwasthankfulforthecapabilityoftheimplant.Hesuspectedthatthedreamstrueslumberbroughtwouldnothavepleasedhim.The slave-soldiers marched up the boarding ramp in a loose, undisciplined group, the very

antithesisofthefinelydrilledformationsoftheAdeptusAstartes.Astheyenteredthecargolighter ’sinterior,afigurepushedthroughthem,givingoutterseorders.AnotherMarine.Rafen lickeddry lips; thiswouldbe themomentof truth. Ifhis subterfuge failednow,hewould

nevermakeitdownto theplanetalive.HegavetheotherBloodAngelacursorynodas ifnothingwereamiss,andstrodepasthim,uptheramptowardtheship.“Brother,”saidtheMarine.“Youareoverseeingthisgroup?IthoughtthatIwastoaccompany…”

Hisvoicedriftedoff, confusion inhis tone.Rafen recognisedhimashe stepped into the light, thebiolumeglowilluminatinghisface.Alactus.Rafenkeptwalking,andmadeanoff-handgrantthathehopedwouldbeenough.“Wait.”Alactuscontinued.“Iknowyou,doInot?”Hisbrowfurrowed.“Whatisyourname?”Howcouldhenotknowme,Rafenaskedhimself.WehaveservedtheChaptertogetherfordecades.“Brother!” The shout haltedRafen at the top of the ramp and he half-turned to glance over his

shoulder.Alactus had his hand at the grip of his bolt pistol. “I asked you a question.”TheMarinesteppedcloser,suspicionclearonhisface.“Takeoffyourhelmet.”Heglancedat the transport; thehelotsweresecure insidenow,andnoneof themcouldseewhat

wasgoingonoutside.Rafenturnedtoface thewaryAlactus.Therewerenoothermenaroundthishighonthelaunchcradles,justthetwoBloodAngels.“Takeoffyourhelmet.”Alactusrepeated,andthebolterwasinhishand.“Iwillnotaskyouagain.”

Thewarninginhisvoicewasneedle-sharp,theMarinewouldshootRafendeadifhedidnotrespond.Rafennoddedanddescendedtheramp,unlatchingtheconnectorringonhisheadgearashedidso.

HehaltedinfrontofAlactusandturnedthehelmetoffhishead.Whenhemethisbattle-brother ’seyeshesawshockthere.“Rafen!”huskedAlactus,“butyou’redead…”“No,” he replied, and in a single sharp movement, Rafen swung his helmet at the other Space

Marine, rushingathim.He smothered the sick feeling inhisgut thatwelledupasheassaultedhisformer comrade; todo sucha thingmadeRafen feel soiled,butheknew that therewasnochoicehere.IfhedidnotkillAlactus,thenhewouldperishinhisstead.Alactuswascaughtbythesurpriseattack,andtheceramitehelmetstruckhimhard,knockingthe

pistolfromhishands.ThegunclatteredawayasRafenhitoutagain,knockingtheotherMarinetohishaunches.“Traitor!”spatAlactus,whippinghiscombatbladefromitssheath.“Sachieltolduswhatyoudid,

whatyoutriedtodo.YoumurderedLucion.”“Ididn’twantto—”“Liar!Youcravenwretch,youturnedonyourownbrethren.Youtriedtodestroythefortress—you

wouldhavekilledusall,youwouldhavemurderedtheRebornAngel.”AngerboiledupinsideRafen.“Youfool.ItisnotIwhoistheturncoat,itisyou.Youandeveryone

whofollowsArkio’smisguidedinsanity!”“No.”Alactusshookhishead,“Iwillnothearyourfalsehoods!HeisthePureOnereturned—”“He is nothing of the kind.”Rafen retorted. “Openyour eyes,man.Openyour eyes and see the

truth,Arkioisjustapawn.Steleisbehindthis,thatordosmind-witchiscloudingeverythingforhisownends.”“Lies!”Alactusdivedathim,thebladeglinting.Rafenblocked,buttheknifebitdownandcutinto

his armour. “To think I trusted you,” hissed the otherMarine. “To thinkwe fought together in theEmperor ’snamewhenallalongyouwereanagentofChaos.”HeforcedthebladedeeperandRafenbitoffacryofpain.“IwillkillyouasagiftfortheBlessed.”Rafen’shandssnappedupandfoundAlactus’neck.Ceramite-encasedfingersbitintohisskinand

squeezed.“Forgiveme…”hehissed,thetwoofthemlockedtogetherinadeath-grip.Rafenfelttheknifeslashingandcutting,butstillhewouldnotrelease.Bloodbubbledfromhisbattle-brother ’slipsandboneinhisthroatcracked.“Damn…you…”Alactuschokedanddiedinhisarms,hisbodyturninglimp.Rafendroppedhim to thedeckand tore theknife fromhiswound, snarlingat thepainof it.He

staredathishands;bloodcoatedthemwiththick,accusingstains.HerememberedtheWordBearerhehadkilledonCybeleinthesamemanner,hisbreathcatchinginhischest.“Sanguinis,”heaskedaloud.“Wherewillthismadnessend?”Butnoanswercametohim.Carefully,Rafenreplacedhishelmet,pausingtorecovertheboltpistol

before he marched aboard the transport ship. The hatch slammed shut behind him, leaving hiscomrade’scorpsetoventtothevoidastheshuttleshotawaytowardSabien.

“Thescouts reportnocontactalong theouterperimeter,” said the sergeant, “the landingzone is

devoidoflife.”ThehintofasneertuggedatthecornerofMephiston’sthinlips.“Justbecausetheyhavenotfound

anythingdoesnotmeanthatitisn’tthere.Bewatchful,sergeant.”TheBloodAngelgaveagravenodandpointedintothesky.“Lookthere,lord.Ships.”Arainoftransportsandcargocraftdescended,touchingdownontheclearerpartofthesquarein

thenorth-westcorner.“Prepareyourself.”Mephistontoldhismen.“Bereadyforanything.”Figuresinshabby,makeshiftuniformsemergedfromtheshuttlesalongwiththereddotsofBlood

Angels.Thesergeantfrowned,scrutinisingthewarriorswithhislong-rangeoptics.“What’sthis?”hesaidinalowvoice.“Thepretenderhasbroughtanarmyofcommonerswithhim?”Through an ornate set of magnoculars the Librarian watched the figures moving into a poor

approximationofaparade line. “Ah,”he saidafter amoment. “Their eyes, sergeant.Lookat theireyes.Tellmewhatyousee.”TheBloodAngeldidashewastold.“Theyseem…manic,perhaps.”“Yes.Thosemenhave the fireofbeliefkindled in them.And thoseof theirnumberwhodonot

have ill-temper enough to compensate.”Mephiston’s fingers drummed on the grip of his plasmapistol.“Watchthem.Theirkindareunpredictable,giventherightcircumstances.”Thesergeantpointedagain.“There,lord,doyouseehim?Ican’tbesure—”TheLordofDeathdidnotneedtobetoldwheretolook;floatinglikeamellifluentseraphamonga

throng of vagrants, Arkio approached them. His armour caught the red-orange glow of Sabien’ssettingsunand itglimmeredoff thegoldceramite like liquid fire.Broadwhitewings formedarcsabovehisshoulders.“Emperor ’sblood…”breathedthesergeant.“Hecouldalmostbe—”“Heisnot.”Mephistongratedharshly.“Allowyourselftobelievethatandyouareuselesstome.”“Forgiveme,lord,it’sjustthat…Ihaveneverseenthelike.”TheLibrariancouldsensethesamethoughtsonthesurfaceofthemindsofalltheBloodAngelsin

hisguard.Hesethis jawhardand lightly touched thepsychic reservoirofhisQuickening.Gently,Mephistonusedthepowertoreinforcethewillofhismen,erasinganygermofdoubtbeforeitcouldgrowlarger.

Rafenusedroughgestureswiththeboltertomaketheslave-soldiersgowherehewanted.Hiddeninthemassoftheprocession,hewasfarenoughapartfromArkio’sloyalistMarinesthathewouldnot be recognised again.He frowned beneath the visor of his helmet. There, away ahead of him,marchedhisbrother,andathissidethepriestSachiel,Steleandtheinquisitor ’sretinue.Hesawtheshambling lexmechanic, the floating shapes of Stele’s servo-skulls and a hooded female whosefeatureswereinvisiblebeneathavoluminouscloak.Rafenelectedtobidehistime.Hisplan,suchasitwas,wastakingshapeonthefly.Perhaps,iftheopportunitypresenteditself,hecouldapproachArkiounseen,andthen—wouldhedaretoshedthebloodofabrotheragain?Andthistime,thebloodofhisownkinsman?HehadbeenunabletodoitbackonShenlong,andashesearchedhisfeelings,Rafencouldnotbesureifhewoulddoitnow.AtthefootofaThunderhawk,Rafencouldseeanotherfigure,anunmistakeableformthatseemed

cut from a history book. He recognised Dante’s Chief Librarian immediately, the most powerfulpsyker in the entire Chapter—and some said, the whole of the Legion Astartes—watching theapproach.RafenrecalledhisstonyaspectfromastatueinthecloistersofAngel’sFall:Mephiston,theLord of Death. His name was well-earned, for it had been he alone that had looked into theunknowablevoidoftheBloodAngelsgene-curseandsurvived.OnlythroughanincredibleforceofwillhadMephistonpassedthroughthepunishingtrialsofthemaddeningredthirstandlivedtotellofit.MensaidthattolooktheLordofDeathintheeyewastoseeawindowtotheblackrageandthe

darkplacesthatwaitedbeyondtherealmof life.Mephiston’sburninggazehadbeenknowntostopenemiesintheirtracksandleavethembrokenandweeping.Asbefittingamanofsuchstature,thepsykerworeacrimsoncloakinlaidwithaprofusionofbone

skulls,thedeath-headsymbollargeonhisshoulderpads.Thetwinrailsofapowerfulpsychichoodextended above his head, and the armour across his torso resembled skinned flesh, glistening redbunchesofmusclecrossedwithdeathmarksandjewelledblooddroplets.HewasthedarkestendofthespectrumwhencomparedtoArkio’sgolden,mirror-brightform.

“LordMephiston,”Arkiosaid,inclininghisheadingreeting,“youhonourmewithyourpresencehere.Thankyouforcoming.”The psyker studied the youth. The sergeant had been correct, Arkio’s resemblance to theGreat

Angelwasuncanny.ItwasalmostasifastatueofSanguiniushadshakenoffitscoatingofstoneandsteppeddownfromachapelplinth.Yet,asmuchastheimagematchedthelegendsthathadshapedhisdevotionforsomanyyears,Mephistoncouldalreadysensethetaintofsomethingfoulandcorruptintheair, lingering likespent tabacsmoke.Hewasverycarefulnot togiveeven theslightesthintofobeisance to theman in the gold armour.Thiswas the onewho had orderedMephiston’s protégéVodedestroyedandCaptainGallio’screwexecutedincoldblood,somethingtheLibrarianwouldnotsoonforget.Butstill…TherewassomesmallvoiceinsideMephiston’smind,somelastfragmentofhisoldself

asBrotherCalistarius, thatwasawedbywhatArkiohadbecome, thisperfect livingavatarofgreatSanguinius.Hesilencedthediscordwithinhimanddrewhispsy-essenceintoasingleplace.“Youare theone theycall theBlessedArkio.” Itwasnotaquestion.“Youclaimthatyouare the

vesselfortheAngelicSovereign.”“Iclaimnothing,”Arkiosaid.“Isimplyam!”Forthefirsttime,theireyesmet,andfromwithinthedarkpitsofMephiston’ssoul,heturnedhis

transfixingglareupon theyouth; the sheer forceof thementalchargebetween themsetothermenstaggeringupontheirfeet.“Weshallsee,”intonedtheLordofDeath,turninghisbalefulsightonArkio’sverysoul.

CHAPTERTEN

Darknesscoiledfromtheeveningskyandcrossedthehorizonwithdeep,inkyshadows.SomeoftheWarriors of theReborn shiftednervously andmuttered,weapons rattling as theygripped themharder,afraidofwhatwas tocomenext.Rafenmovedforward throughtheranksofmen,better toobserve theconfrontationbetweenArkio’sandMephiston’s titanicwills.He tasted the thick,greasytextureonthechillair,thesameoilyaromathathehadencounteredbeforewhenStelehadbroughthis psychic powers to bear—but this time the magnitude was a hundred times greater, and thethicknessoftheatmosphereabouthimmadeRafenfeellikehewaswadingthroughamarshybog.Hecould see the hellfire glow from beneath the Lord of Death’s brow, his eyes twin embers ofcontrolledmenacelikedistantbeacons.Thestinkofmind-magickwasallabouthim,andRafenfeltbileriseinhisgorge.Tobesonearto

suchanakedshowofpsykerforcemadehimfeelsoiledandunclean.Hewasclosernow;hecouldseeStele’sbaldhead,theglintofthesilverpuritystudinhisear.The

inquisitorappearedtobeindistress,asiftheeffortofstandinginMephiston’saurawasalmosttoomuchforhim.Athisside,Stele’swomantrembledbeneathherhood.Rafensworehecouldseethinwispsofsmokeissuingfromhernostrils.TheSpaceMarinekneadedthegripoftheboltpistolandforcedhimselftomovenearerstill.

The Gaze was a lens that opened up the hidden world to Mephiston’s perception. The powerburning inside him shone through the gates of his vision like the beam of a devout searchlight,pinning theweakandtheunhallowedas it felluponthem.Hissight-beyond-sightstrippedawaytheillusionsofrealityandbaredsoulssothattheLordofDeathcouldexaminetheirpale,nakedtruths.HesawArkioasifhewereananatomicalsketchdrawnfromsometextbookofthemagusbiologis,layersofskin,bone,muscleandnervevisibletohim.Theboywasglass,andMephiston’sgazeshoneintohim,illuminatingeverycornerofhisspiritassearingsunlightfallingthroughaprism.There. It was concealed well, buried beneath levels of wards and mind-baffles, the matter of it

worked into the bone andmeat of the SpaceMarine’s body, but the taint could not hide from theunblinking eye ofMephiston’s powers. The black ellipse floated among the perfection ofArkio’sAstartes physiology, ruining the sacred organic design of the Blood Angel. The seed of Chaosglitteredandpulsed.Inafaintway,hewasslightlydisappointed.Perhapstherewasapartofhim,howevertiny,thathad

hoped Arkio’s story might be true; but insteadMephiston found himself confronted by a dupe, amutantignorantofhisownpoisonednature.Othermenmighthavefeltpitythen;butnothe.TheLordofDeathmarvelledat theperfectionand ingenuityof the taint—itwas trulyaworkof

psionicart,theconstructofamakerbothgeniusandmadman.Itboretheunmistakablefingerprintsofthe Changer of Ways across every aspect of its form. He traced thin thought-filaments from theinfection,trackingthelinesoftheirmutations,thereorderingoffleshymatterthathadalteredtheboyfromaMarinetothesimulacrahewasnow.FaintglintsofcontactdancedinArkio’saura,bendinglikeflowersseekingthesun,allofthemturningtowardoneman.Stele.Mephistoncouldsmellhisemotionslikespilledblood,acocktailofarrogancewarringwith

controlledfear,desireandavariceragingbeneaththethinveneerofhisicycivility.Buttheinquisitor

wasnot thepuppetmaster here; like amirrorwithin amirror,Stele in turnwasbeingdirectedbysomeotherintelligence.Helethisvisionslipoverthewoman.Shewaslikeoilonwater,repellingitinstantly.Mephiston’ssightcouldnotholdpurchaseonher.“Tellme,lord,”saidArkio.“Nowyouhavelookedintomysoul,whatdoyousee?”Thetensionin

thesquarecametoaknife-edgeonhiswords.“WillyoudenytheworkoftheGreatAngeluponme?OrwillyouacceptthatIamtheincarnationoftheDeusSanguinius?”Mephistondrewbackwith agrimsneeronhis lips. “Ifonlyyourdivinitymatched the scopeof

yourarrogance,lad,youmightbewhatyouappear.”“Howdareyou!”blurtedSachiel,steppingforward.“HeistheRebornAngel,thelightof—”“Silence, priest.” The psyker stilled himwith a single glance, and Sachiel clasped at his throat,

coughing.ThegraciousexpressiononArkio’sfacefadedintoablankmaskofneutrality.“Mephiston,tread

carefully.IofferyouthechancetojoinmyBloodCrusade.Donotbesoquicktojudgeme.Cometomyside,andIwillwelcomeyouasmybattle-brother.”Hearchedaneyebrow,gaugingthemoment.“AndifIdonot?”“It would go poorly for you, Lord of Death. The sands of your life have already run thin on

borrowedtime.Ifyoutestthemagain,youwillnotbesoblessedasyouwereonArmageddon.”A soft laugh escaped the psyker ’s lips; he decided to allow the boy to talk. “Your presumption

amusesme,Arkio.Tellme,this‘crusade’ofyours,whatgivesyoutherighttodictatesuchathing?YouspeakasifitisyourvoicethatleadsourChapter.”“Andsoitwillbe,”Arkioreplied.“YourmasterDantehaslingeredtoolongincommandofthe

BloodAngels.Hewillstepasideforme.”Thecoldhumourvanished fromMephiston’s face inan instant. “Hewilldonosuch thing fora

pretenderwhelplikeyou.”TheLibrarian’svoicewasiron-hardandfullofthreat.Arkiowatchedhimcarefully.“Perhapsnot.Ifhecannotreleasehispettyfearofmethenwewill

absolve him of his office. With all the due effort that may be required to do so.” The golden-armoured figure summoneda trioofSachiel’shonourguardsand themenarrivedwitha titaniumcylinder between them. Arkio opened the case and let the radiance of the Holy Lance light thedarkeninglandscape.Withasingleswiftmotion,Arkiodrewtheancientweaponandsweptitupinabrilliantarcoflight.“The…theSpearofTelesto…”ThewordsfellfromthelipsoftheTechmarineinahumbledgasp.ArkiopointedthespearatMephiston,sightingdownthelengthofthehaftathim.“Iswearthisby

thebloodof theprimarchinmyveins.Knowme,Librarian.IamtheBloodAngelsincarnate.IamSanguiniusReborn.”Goldlightningarcedaroundtheteardropbladeatthetipofthespear.“Givemeyourfealtyorperish.Thechoiceisyours.”Foronedizzying,horriblemoment,Mephistonfelthisworldlurcharoundhimasthelancehove

intoview.Howcanthisbe?Hewieldsthesacredweapon!AstormofchatteringdoubtsengulfedtheLordofDeath;itwasimpossibletothinkthatsomedebasedimpostorwouldeverbeabletolayhandsonthespear,andyetArkioheldtheHolyLancelikehewasborntoit.HaveIbeenmistaken?CouldhereallybetheRebornAngel?WhoelsecouldknowthemightoftheTelestoartefact?Mephistonshookthe churn of thought away with a shake of his head, tiny darts of blue fire crackling along hiscrystallinepsi-hood.“No,”hegrowled.Therewassomemagickatworkhere,abewitcherysosubtleandinsidiousthatevenaweaponforgedbyHolyTerracouldbedeceivedbyit.“Iamnotcozened,pretender.Yourparlourtricksmeannothingagainstmyfaith.”TheBloodAngel’shanddroppedtothehiltofhisarcaneforcesword, theancientmind-bladeVitarus.“No trueSonofSanguiniuswilleverbendhiskneetoyou,charlatan.Youarefalse.”AsurgeofangerthunderedthroughtheWarriorsoftheRebornandcriesofviolenceburstforth

fromArkio’sloyalists.Rafenletthemjostlehimforward.Arkio shook his head in annoyance. “Poor, old fool.You are infectedwithDante’s fear, just as

Vode andGallio before you, just as everymisguidedmanwho sits underBaal’s sun and believeshimselfatrueBloodAngel.Iamtheway.”Heshouted,brandishingthespear,“Iamthetruthreborn.Yourblindnesssickensme,mind-witch.Ipityyou.”Mephiston’s troops knotted together, breeches clattering on their bolters in a rush of noise.The

Librarian drew himself to his full height, towering over Arkio’s golden form and brilliant whitewings.“Saveitforyourself,fool.Youandyourordosaccomplice,allofyouareblackwiththestainof Chaos! It reeks from you…”He stabbed a copper-gloved finger at the inquisitor,whomet hisaccusationwithasneer.“Thisweaklingisa lackeyof theRuinousPowers,andthosewhoheedhiswordsareequallydisgracedwiththestigmaofheresy!”Thepsyker ’swordsdrewachorusofdenialsandvicious retorts.“RamiusStele, Inameyou traitor.Youconspirewithdarkpowersand revel incorruption.Youarethearchitectofthisapostasy!”“No!” roared the inquisitor, the shout slamming into the distant ruins like a thunderclap. “The

Blessed is right. You decry all that you fear! Your words are lies, Mephiston, lies. Arkio isSanguinius.”“Thenheshallproveit,”theLordofDeathspatback.“IntheBookoftheLords,thePureOnewas

said to be thematch of anywarrior that lived. If this is so, then perhaps your so-called ‘Blessed’wouldbewillingtofaceatrueBloodAngelinsinglecombat…”Mephistonbaredhisfangs.“IfheisthevesselforthewilloftheAngelicSovereign,hewillbevictorious.Ifheisamerepretender,hewilldie.”HewatchedtheconsequenceofhisdareasitspreadoutamongArkio’sloyalists,sensingthemerge

ofangerandfearitengendered.Henoddedtohimself;exactlythereactionhehadwanted.Playingtheyoungfoolintohishands,Mephistonhadbroughthimtothismoment,andnowhewouldbutchertheimpostorlikeapreybeast.Suchabrutalandveryvisibledestructionofthisgoldenfigureheadwasnecessary—whenArkiodiedon the tipofMephiston’s forcesword,hisdisciplesandhelotswouldbreak.TheirconfusionwouldmakeiteasierfortheLordofDeathtoexecutethem.Thisinsurrectionhadtobesmashedinthemostpublicandbloodywaypossible.Menonbothsidesbegantodrawback,grantingroomforthecomingduel,andSachielhadfound

hisvoiceoncemore. “It’s a trick,”he sputtered, theveinsonhisneckcordedand tightwithangerborderingonmadness.“Youcannotaccept,Blessed.Thepsykerisgoadingyou.”Arkiogavethepriestabrief,beneficentsmile.“Sachiel,myfriend.Yourconcernformywellbeing

istouching,butmisplaced.Iwillnotdismissthischallenge.IfMephistonwishestoseethemightoftheRedAngelenraged,thenbythegrail,Ishallshowittohim!”Hesteppedforwardinagrim-facedswagger,theHolyLanceatrestbeneaththecurlofhiswing.“Iwillfaceanymanhere.”ArkiotoldtheLibrarian, “and Iwill send him to theEmperor ’s grace knowing the truth ofmydivinity!”Hemadeashowofopeninghisarmswidetotheassembledmen,BloodAngels,loyalists,slave-soldiersalike.“Whoherewouldtakeuparmstofightme?WhichofyouwillshedyourbloodtoprovetheTightnessofmydecree?”TheswordVitaruswhisperedasitdrewfreeofitsscabbard.“Arkio,”growledMephiston.“Itwill

bemy—”“Iwillfacehim!”Thecrycutthroughtheairandsetheadsturning,handsfrozenonweapons.“Who?”saidthesergeantatMephiston’sflank.“Itcamefromoverthere.”Theveteranindicatedthe

mobofArkio’smenwiththebarrelofhisbolter.The psyker ’s perplexity increased as the crowd of ragged slave-troops parted to allow a single

BloodAngel to come forward. His armour was that of a typical TacticalMarine, discoloured bybloodstains andagouge inhis chestplate.AsMephistonwatched, theMarine steppedpastArkio’s

retinueandremovedhishelmet.Forthefirsttime,hesawanexpressiononthepretender ’sfacethatwasn’tangerorarrogance,butpure,rawshock.

“Rapen!”Arkiochokedoutthename.“Yousurvived…”“Impossible.”Sachielshrieked,grabbingathisgun.“Thefactorywasobliterated,hewasinside,he

couldnothave—”“Quiet,youfool,”growledStele,forcingthepriesttolowerhisweapon.“Itappearsthatyournews

ofhisdeathwaspremature.”RafenandArkioheldeachother ’sgazeforalongmoment.“Brother,”saidthefigureingold,“I

didnotthinktolayeyesonyouagain.”“Iamasurvivor.”Rafenreplied,thewearinessofallthathadhappenedbeforeinhisvoice,“and

nowithascometothis.”“You tried to destroyme,Rafen.You turned your back onme.”Arkio’swordswere thickwith

emotion,painandfury.Heshookhishead.“Ihavenotbetrayedyou,kindred.Youhavebetrayedyourself.Iwarnedyou.I

beggedyoutostepbackfromtheabyss.”Rafenlookedaway.“Youdidnotheedme.”“Andnowithascometothis.”Arkiorepeated.“Verywell,brother.IfasonofAxanmustdietoday,

thendiehewill.”The Lord of Death slammed his force weapon back into its sheath and beckoned Rafen closer.

“Cometome,brother.Ifyouwishthis,thenletmeknowyou.”RafenkneltbeforeMephistonandraisedhishead.“Aye, Iwish it.”The lightbehind thepsyker ’s

eyesglowedandburntapathintoRafen’smind.HefelthisbodytenseandMephiston’shandshotout,cuppinghischinsohecouldnotturnaway.TheLibrarian’spowerfulinnersighttoreapartanydefenceofwillthatRafenmighthavethought

hehad,slippingintothecorridorsofhispsycheinafloodofpower.Hisbrainfeltlikehotmagma,churningandboilingasstormsoflong-forgottenmemoryweredredgedupandexamined.NothingthatwasRafenescapedthegazeofMephiston.Forabriefmoment,theirmentalitieswereunifiedastheLordofDeathsiftedthroughtheMarine’s

consciousness.MephistontastedRafen’sheart,thecoloursandshadesofhissoul—hesawpiecesofthemanthatevenRafenhimselfcouldnotcomprehend.Dutyandhonourmarbledhisspirit,theywerecutintoRafenliketheageringsofanya-woodtree.Once,therehadbeenatimewhenthismanwaswilfulandarrogant,whenitwasonlyhisownglorythathadoccupiedhismind;thatRafenwasgone,achildgrownintoanadultwithalltheknowledgeoflife’shardestlessons.TheMarineembodiedtheidealoftheBloodAngels.Hewasnoblebuthumble,awarriorbutnotbelligerent.Amongall thesebrotherswhohave lost theirway, thisonealone stillwalks thepathof theBlood.There canbenobetterchampion.Mephiston sensed somethingelse, remainingonly in fragmentsand splinters throughoutRafen’s

spirit.Thetouchofsomethinghigher,themarkswhereaforceofbeingwithpowersfarbeyondtheLordofDeath’shadbrieflyinfluencedRafen.Avision…TheLibrarianreleasedhimandwithdrew,thefireinhiseyesretreating.Anunspokenmomentof

communicationpassedbetweenthetwomen,asadnessatwhatRafenhadforeseenandwhatheknewhadtobedone.“Heisyourbloodkin,”saidMephiston.“Aye,lord.”He nodded. “Rafen, you are true to our code. I stand aside to let you take my place in this

challenge.”Mephistongesturedtotheveterannearby.“Sergeant,givethismanyourpowersword.”TheMarinedrew theweaponandpresented it toRafen,whoaccepted itwith a shallowbow.He

turned the blade over in his hands, his fingers falling easily behind the spiked guard and into theknurledgrip.Theswordresonatedwithdormantthreat,thepolishedsilverbladecatchingthecolourof the orange sky in its surface. Rafen traced the shape of a half-eagle cut into the hilt. “A fineweapon,”henoted.Mephiston stepped back to give him room. “Thismatter will be decided,” he intoned. “Brother

againstbrother,withvictoryforthefaithful.”

Perfect.StelealmostlaughedoutloudwhenRafentookupthesword.Thiswasideal,hecouldhavedone

no better himself at producing so exquisite a finale. Brother facing brother, with death alone therewardforRafen’sfoolhardypresumption.Suchaconflictwouldbeafittingendfor that turbulentMarine,andat long lastStelewouldbe ridof the irritant thathadplaguedhimsince theyhad firstarrivedamongCybele’swargraves.ItwasregretfulthatArkio’sbrotherhadprovensoresistanttothe cult that Stele had created among the Blood Angels—such a warrior with so defiant andunyielding a soul would havemade a fine addition to the RebornAngel’s retinue. If only he hadfollowedtherouteofhisbattle-brothersandtrulyacceptedArkio’snew-founddivinity,RafenwouldbeherenowasalordcommanderamongtheforcesoftheBloodCrusade;instead,hewouldbeitsfirstvictim,andhisvitaewouldbethewineofitsconsecration.Butno,Steletoldhimself,betterthathedies.Whilehelived,Rafenwasrandomchance,awildcard

amongtheinquisitor ’sgamesofengineeredplotandcounterplot.IthadbeenpureflukethattheSpaceMarine had been onCybelewhenGarand sent theWordBearers to attack it, but his presence hadquicklygrownfromaminordiversiontothemostseriousnuisance.Rafenwouldnevertrulygivehisheart to his changed sibling—Stele had known that even when Arkio took his oath in the Ikarifortress’chapel—andsohehadtobedestroyed.Rafenwoulddieathisbrother ’sownhand,andwiththatArkiowouldbeinexorablycommittedtoa

path from the Emperor ’s light for all time. Once the blood of his closest kinsman spattered thatgolden armour, once it hissed into steam from the burningblade of theHolyLance,Arkiowouldhaveseveredthelastconnectionthatstillmadehimhuman.OnceRafenperished,Arkiowouldmoveeverfurthertowardtheeightfoldwaywithnothingtoholdhimback.Hewouldmurderhisconsciencealongwithhisbrother.StelesensedMephiston’sattentionuponhim,andsawtheLibrarianfromthecornerofhissight,

unwillingtomeethisgazedirectly.Perhapsthepsykersensedsomemeasureofhisthoughts,perhapsnot.Itmatteredlittle,hewouldwaitforthemomentwhenthelightdiedinRafen’seyes,andthenletlooseacallforcarnage.WithUlan’ssmotheringmind-cloaktoprotectthem,theloyalistswouldbeupontheLordofDeathandhismeninnumberssolargethatnoneofDante’sSpaceMarineswouldsurvive.Andifnot,therewasstillonemorecardStelecoulddeal,onemoreplayerhecoulddelivertothe

field.

Rafenbrought thepowerswordtoarmsandheld itathischest, thebladepointingat thesky.Hegavehisbrotheragrimsalute.Inreturn,Arkio’seyesdrewintonarrowslitsashelettheSpearofTelestoslidealonghisfingers

toitsfulllength.Sullenflickersofyellow-amberlightningcrackledaroundthebladeandthegoldeniconofSanguiniuscarvedinthehilt.Bothmenstoodforamoment; thebattlebalancedonabreathofsilenceas theywatchedfor the

sudden floodofmusclemovement, thesmallest telltale thatwouldsignify theiropponent’sactions.Warrior-to-warriorbattleslikethiswerecommonplaceinthewarsoftheImperium,whereconflicts

were often fought with champions on either side engaging in single combat. Like every AdeptusAstartes,RafenandArkioweretrainedtofightalone,asanarmyofone;inyearspast,asinitiates,thesiblingshad sparredonmanyoccasions.Then, theyhadknowneachotherwell enough to countereveryattack,neutraliseeverydefence—buttimehadalteredbothofthem.Rafensurrenderedhimselftothemoment,allowinghismindandspirittoflowtogether,merging

intoasingleengineofactionandmovement.Arkiowatchedhim, impassiveandunmoving,agoldstatueamong thecolourlessdebrisof thecity square.Rafen’s focusnarroweduntil itwasonlyhisbrotherhesawbeforehim,onlytheshapeofaman.Anenemy.And suddenly he was inmotion, a snarl ripping from his lips, fangs baring in fight rage. The

powerswordsizzledaroundhiminapunishingarcofliquidsilver.Arkioreacted,sweepingthespeardowninasharpgestureofdefence,fallingforRafen’sfeint.Withhisotherarm,Rafenbroughtuptheblunt,brutishingotofhisboltpistolandfollowedthroughwithathree-roundburstofshellfire.Arkio recovered with frightening speed and turned the glowing lance like a propeller, the

hummingshaftmakingagleamingdiscintheair.Theboltroundswhinedandscreamedastheywereshredded by the flickering shield. Rafen extended through his initial attack and spun on his boot,slashing downwith a low cut of the sword.The blade sliced through air asArkio slid away overloose-packeddirt.Inablur,heturnedthespearbackatRafen.Hisbrother spied the infinitesimal lossofbalanceoffArkio’sback footandadvanced,cuttinga

weboffigure-eightlinestowardhim.Thespeartipmetthepowerswordandspatviolently,burstsoffat,angrysparkshissinglikefireworksastheweaponsmetandparted,metandparted,metagain.Arkiofellbackstepafterstep,unhurriedandemotionless.Thefanoflightfromthespinninglance

waseverywhere thatRafen’s swordblade fell,halting its savageattacks,bluntingeachstabandcutwithaflashingparry.Totheuntrainedeye,itseemedasifthefigureinthegoldenarmourwasonthedefensive,fightingoffanendlesssalvoofstrikes.SomeoftheWarriorsoftheRebornmadeharshcatcallsuntiltheloyalistMarinescommandingthemgaveoutviolentcensures.ArkioletRafenspendtheenergyofhisassaultinaflurryofblows,atthesametimeusingtheminimumamountofefforttocounter.Hehadexpectedbetterfromhisbrother.Rafenwasnofool.Ifheextendedtheattackasecondlonger,Arkiowouldturnitonhimandstrike

back.Helungedforward,aneasymovecalculatedtolookliketheactionofafighterfrustratedanddesperate.Arkiotookitatfacevalueandblockedthestrike,openingawindowofopportunityalonghis left side for an eye-blink. The winged Marine was powerful, undoubtedly, but he lacked theexperienceofhisolderbrother.Rafenwouldneverhavefallenforthefeint—butArkiodid.Theboltguncamefromnowhere,suddenlythereinfrontofArkio’sface,thebarrelstillwarmand

hotwiththestinkofozonedischarge.Rafen’sfingertightenedonthetrigger.Arkioreactedwithpreternaturalspeed.Hisfoldedwingsexplodedopeninaflareofbrilliantwhite

and he shot into the air, flashing out ofRafen’s line of fire. The golden figure described a swift,graceful arc up and over his brother ’s head, spinning and turning toward the ground twenty feetdistant.Rafenrotatedinplace,trackingArkiowiththegun.Hefiredaquartetofshotsattheswoopingshape,leadingthetargetbutmissingwitheachboltbythemerestfraction.ThegroundrumbledandrippledasArkiotoucheddown,theimpactcausingashockwaveinthe

centuries-olddetritusaroundthem.AgrimacemarredhisperfectfeaturesashewhirledthespeartopresenttheglowingteardropbladetoRafen.Goldeneffulgenceandsparklingparticlesgatheredintoahummingsphereofenergyattheweapon’stip.Unabletododge,Rafensawitcomingandraisedhishands,gunandswordcrossedoverhisfacelikesomedesperateinvocationoftheImperialaquila.ThejetofunearthlypowerdetachedfromtheHolyLanceandrippedacrossthedistancebetween

thetwomen,splittingopenandturningintoadancingfenceofyellowflame.AsitengulfedRafen,hefelthisskinsearing;herememberedtheWordBearers,theirbodiesreducedtoashinthedepthsof

theShenlongmanufactory.Foroneheart-stoppingmoment,Rafenthoughthisworldwasatanend,butthentheflamesflickedaway,leavinghiminjuredbutstillalive.Hepawedathisface,shakingoffafinelayerofashwherehisepidermishadbeenflash-burnt.“Sanguiniusbepraised,”heheardMephiston’svoice.“TheSpearofTelestoknowsthesoulofhis

Sons!HeturnshisholyfirefromRafen!”TheMarinenoddedtohimself—ofcourse, theweaponwasgene-coded.Itcouldonlybeusedby

menwhocarriedthegenetictemplateoftheprimogenitorwithinthem,anditwouldnotharmthosewhobore the samemark in theirblood.Rafen sawabriefglintofannoyance inArkio’seyes—hewouldnotbeabletodoawaywithhiminsuchashowydisplayofpowerashehadthecursedTraitorMarines. It was fitting—the fightwould bewon or lost onmartial prowess, not strength of arms.Snarling, Rafen threw himself at Arkio oncemore, leading into himwith the hissing edge of thepowersword’sblade.Arkiobit backan angry curse, rebukinghimself for forgetting theweapon’sgene-code failsafe.

Instead, he dropped the haft of the spear into a two-handed grip, holding it like a quarterstaff.HeblockedRafen’sattack,theswordbladebouncingasitstruckofftheunbreakableshaftoftheweapon.He forced Rafen off-balance and shoved him back, reversing the ploy his brother had used onlymomentsearlier.BrokendriftsofferrocretefragmentsandstoneshiftedbeneathRafen’sfeetandhedugin,refusing

to let Arkio knock him back. Blade and spear came together, each weapon pressing back to thefighter ’sbreastplates,hotflashesoflightflickeringoverthem.Thebrothersweretoe-to-toe,pushingintooneanotherwithalltheforcetheycouldmuster.“Yield,Rafen,”snarledArkio.“YieldtomeandIwillenditcleanly.”“Iwillnotyieldtocorruption,”hegasped.“Brother, theremustbesomethingof themanIknew

stillinyou,somepieceofyoursoulthatstillremainspure?”“I ampurity itself.”Arkio’s skinwas taut across his facewith anger, his fangs bared. “Ignorant

fool,youopposeyourverylord.IamtheDeusSanguinius—”“Youareadupe!”Rafenbellowed,howling thewords,“You’renothingbutaclockwork toyfor

thatordoswhoreson.Hedidthis,warpedyouintothismutantobscenity.”Arkio’sthrewbackhisheadandroared.“Liar.Traitor.Coward.”Withamassive,vicioussurgeof

motion, thewingedMarine brought the spear about and slammed the blunt end into the centre ofRafen’storsowithathunderclapofforce.TheimpactstrucktheBloodAngellikeacannonshellandRafenwasblownbackwardsoffhisfeet.

Heflewthroughtheair,releasingsnap-fireshotsfromhisbolterthatwentwild,deflectingoffbrokenrockandkeeningawayfromindirecthitsonArkio’sarmour.Rafen landedwithacrashof rubble,sendingaroilofbrickdustupintotheair.Hestruggled,hisfeetslippingbelowhim.Arkiobecameawareofhisnameonthewind,aheartbeatpulseofchantingfromtheWarriorsof

theRebornastheysensedtheendwasnearforhisopponent.Bloodashotasmoltenironengorgedhisbodywithmurderouspower,theunchainedpotentialoftheblackrageunfoldingtoenvelophim.Arkioletoutawordlessscreamofabsoluteandutterfury,throwinghimselfintotheaironthegreatcurvesofhiswings.Thespearbuzzedandhummedinhishands, twitchinglikeadistressedmount,butheforcedittoturntowardRafen.ThelancetriedtofaceitselfawayfromhistargetbutinhisireArkiowouldnotallowit.At the top of his arc of flight,Arkio spun about and raced backdown into the armsof gravity,

wingscuppingthewind,divinglikeahawkuponprey.Theteardropbladeflashedinthedimness.Hisbonesstillringingwiththeimpact,Rafenforcedhimselfoffthegroundtoconfronttheattack;

theglitteringgoldshapeblurredathim,thelanceaimedathisheart.Rafen’seyesmetArkio’sandtheMarineleaptintotheairtomeethimearly.

Theinstantstretchedlikemeltingtallow.Turning,spinning,thelancestruckpoorlyanddeflectedoffRafen’sshoulderinasizzleofsparks.TheMarinemoved,slippingunderArkio’sguard,thetwoofthempassinginmid-airlessthanahand-spanapart.Rafen’sswordledtheway,andthecracklingpowerbladefoundbriefpurchase.TheweaponcutawoundinArkio’swing,redbloodexplodinginacrimsonblossom,starkwhitefeathersrainingabouthimlikefallingpetals.Bothmenlandedhard,butonlyonebled.Rafenturnedtheswordsothathecouldseethefluidthat

kissedtheblade.Itwaswine-darkandsluggishliketar,itwaspolluted.“Firstblood!”shoutedoneofMephiston’smen,butthecrywaslostinsnarlsandroarsofArkio’s

loyalists.“No…”Thewordwassmallandplaintive,achildlikedenialofsomethingtheeyesawbutrefused

tobelieve.Sachiel’shandscametohisfaceanditwasonlythenthatherealisedthevoicehadbeenhis.A great splash of crimson disfigured Arkio’s immaculate golden wargear and the sight of thisoffenceburnedintothepriest’svisionlikeabrand.The sharp, tearing agony of the wound seemed to be instantly translated to every member of

Arkio’sretinue—thesheershockofseeingtheirliegelordinjuredbyamereMarinehitthemwithaphysicalforce.Foralongsecondallofthemwerestuckdumbbytheenormityofit.Sachielcouldsmelltheblood.AsaSanguinaryHighPriest,thescentoflivingvitaewasasdistinct

asthebouquetofafinewineorthearomaofadelicateflower.Sachielhadknownbloodallthroughhis service as an Apothecary to the Chapter, and he had tasted a thousand strains and touched athousandmoreinhisduties.Onbattlefieldshehadseengreatlakesofitshedbyenemyandallyalike,hehadwitnesseditgushinginredfountainsfromthearteriesofmenscreamingfortheEmperor ’speace.Sachielknewthescentofhisownblood,andthatofSanguiniushimselfasitlaycapturedandpreserved in theRedGrailonBaal.Thestenchofwhat leaked fromArkiostruckhis senses likeamailed fist. He sensed corruption, black and ruinous, some foul seed of pollution swarming andwrithinginsidetheBlessed’sveins.Sachiel’sstomachs threatened torebeland throwtheircontentson theground. Itwas impossible.

The priest scrambled inside himself for some explanation and found none—his senses had neverbetrayedhimbeforeandtheydidnotbetrayhimnow.Sachielturnedaway,blockingoutthesighteventhoughthesmellwaswrappedaroundhimininvisiblewreathes.HisgazefellonStele;theinquisitorwasgrowlingsomeorderathishoodedpsy-witch.StelecaughthissightforafractionalinstantandSachielsawhimstart.“You.” Sachiel managed, the word bubbling up from a deep, hidden place. “You…” Like glass

breaking,thecompulsionsStelehadplacedinSachiel’spsycheaboardtheBellussuddenlyshattered.PerhapsitwastheshockofArkio’sinjury,perhapssomelastfragmentofSachiel’shonourableselfrisingtothesurface,butinthatinstantthepriestwasfreedofthepsyker ’sholdonhiswill.Sachiel’s world, so perfect and so rationalised, so carefully assembled to serve his ego, came

crashingdownabouthim.Floodgatesofdenied,forgottenmemoriesdisintegratedandthepriestwasknockedtohiskneesbytheforceofthem,wailing.Everylinehehadcrossed,everychoicehehadmadeinordertoaggrandisehimself,andStelehadbeentheretohelphimdoit.Sachiel’sgorgeroseas the stinkofmutation filled everypore of his skin, contaminatinghimand choking the air. “Ohlord,”hewept,bittertearsfallingfromhisface.“WhathaveIdone?”HelookedupatSteleandsawtheinquisitorstaringdownathim,anexpressionofuttercontemptonhiscruellips.“Whathaveyoudonetome?”Stelekneltandwhisperedinhisear.“Igaveyouthetoolstodestroyyourself.”

CHAPTERELEVEN

The rainscame from thedarkening sky, awhisperof fallingdroplets spatteringacross thegreylandscape of the dead city-shrine. It hissed over the forms of the rag-tagwarriors as they surgedforward,rushingtoArkio’sflanks.Amidtheirlines,thepriestandtheinquisitorfacedeachother.Sachiel’stearswerelostintherush

of the downpour, his fingers clenching clods ofmudwhere he crouchedonhands andknees.Thechill,dirtyrainwaterwashedoverhimandwithit,itcarriedawaythescalesofwillingblindnessfromthe priest’s eyes. Sachiel’s perfidywas revealed to himwith sudden, shattering clarity.No denialscouldassuageit,nowordswerestrongenoughtohaltthetideofutterself-loathingthatengulfedhim.“I…am…corrupted…”hebreathed,damninghimselfwithhisownwords.Stele looked at himwith complete disregard.Any familiarity or comradeship the inquisitor had

shown to Sachiel now fell from his expression, and he understood that Stele had never, everconsideredthepriestasanythingmorethanatool.Hewassomethingtobeusedanddiscarded.“Ihadintendedtoretainyouforawhilelonger.”Stele’svoicewaslowandonlySachielcouldhear

it,“butitappearsyouhaveoutlivedyourusefulnesstome.”Thepriest struggled toget tohis feet, but his body felt like itweighedhundredsof tonnes.The

burdenofthesinshehadcommittedwerepressinghimintotherubble.“DoesArkioknow?Iwouldneverhavefollowedyou…”Stele laughed. “How typical, priest. You think of your own reputation before the fate of your

Chapter!”“Youdidthistome!”“You allowedme to.You secretlywelcomed it, Sachiel, coveting theRedGrail, nurturing your

resentments…Youwereideal,yourobsessionwithyourselfblindingyoutoallthepactsyoumade!”Heletoutaharsh laugh.“FallenAngel, lookhowfaryouhavetumbledfromyourperch.”HellishlightglintedinStele’svisionandthepriestfeltthesickeningcaressofhismind-touch.Youwerenotthefirst,saidthevoiceinhishead,thehissofsnakeskinonbone,andyouwillnothethelast.TheawfulmagnitudeofthegrandschemeofChaosbecameclearinSachiel’smind,anditturned

hisheartstoice.“No…”“Oh,yes,”repliedStele,andthroughtheopen,bleedingwoundself-inflictedonthepriest’spsyche,

hesentaquicksilverhammerofmind-force.Sachiel’sscreammergedintoahowlofthunderandbloodgushedfromhisnostrils,andweptin

runnelsfromhiseyes.Die!Stelerippedhimapartwithin,breakinghismindlikematchwood.Perish,Sachiel.Icompelyou,dieforme.Thebodyinredandwhiteceramitecollapsedinapuddleofthinpinkfluids,deathtearingawayhis

lastbreathonthewind.Stele masked his smile and fixed a disguise of righteous anger in its place. “Murderer,” he

bellowed, stabbing an accusing finger at Mephiston. “See, the Librarian has killed our brotherSachiel.Heburntthewillfromhimwithhiswitch-sight.”ThefiercemoodofthemobarmyandtheloyalistMarinestookvoiceandweaponswereturnedon

MephistonandhisBloodAngels.Theywereonthevergeofanadrenaline-fuelledfrenzy,andallitwouldtakewouldbeonewordfromSteletotipthemovertheedge.

Hegaveit.“Attack.Destroythemall,inArkio’sname!”

Therabblewasaliving,breathingentity,awarenginemadefromfleshandboneandceramiteandsteel. Itmoved so fast thatRafenwascaughtoff-guard, the figures in their redcloaksemblazonedwith the spear and halo flooding aroundArkio’s imperious form in a headlong rush. TherewereloyalistMarinesinthemassaswell,boltersspittinghotfire.Mephiston’s men opened up into theWarriors of the Reborn, scything them down in gouts of

crimson.Gunfireandscreamsmergedintoasymphonyofdestruction,raisedhightotherattlingfalloftherain.Rafenswungandparriedwithhisswordasthemobreachedhim,cuttinghimofffromhistarget.HelostsightofArkioasthegoldenfigureleaptintotheskyandcutbacktowardtheedgeofthe square, thenhewas fightinghard,hisattentionon themyriadadversariesuponhim.Hisbolterpistolrandryandheuseditlikeaclub,toofarintothethickofthemeleetosparethetimetoreloadit.Thepowerswordroseandfell,cuttingapaththroughchatteringmenwhodiedwiththenameofhissiblingontheirlips.Forthefirsttimeinwhatseemedlikeanage,Rafenfeltthefamiliartingleofbattlelustinsidehim,

theshadowoftheblackrage.Heculledthezealots,losingcountofthedead,butArkio’sthousandstillhadtheweightofnumbersontheirside.Nearby,hecaughtthecracklinghumofaforceweapon.BluelightninglickedatthelowcloudsastheLordofDeathjoinedthefray.

Allabouthimcombatseethedandboiled,yetStelestayeduntouched,hislexmechanicwhimperinginacoweringheapatUlan’s feetwhile themutantpsykerdrapedhernullifyingpowerabout them.Theinquisitorexaminedthechaliceinhishand;hehadrippeditfromSachiel’sbeltasthelightfadedfromthepriest’seyes,flingingawaythevelvetbagtorevealthereplicaofthesacredBloodAngelsartefact.Hesmiled.ThissimpletrinketwastheseedofSachiel’sundoing.TheApothecaryhadalwaysdreamedofbecomingtheKeeperoftheRedGrail,ascendingtothehighestofficeinthesanguinaryclergy.Hehadnurturedbitterness towardCorbulo, thebattle-brother thatheld thepostingonBaal,andthathadbeenStele’sgatewayintomanipulatinghim.Withashrug,hetossedthecoppercupaway.Itwasworthlesslitternow,withaslittlevaluetotheinquisitorasSachiel’scoolingcorpse.Henudgedthedeadpriestwithhisboot-tip.Stelewasgladtoberidoftheself-importantdullard,onelesslooseendtodisposeof.Ulan grunted in pain. “Uh… difficult…” she said through gritted teeth. “Mephiston’s sight…

stronger…”Alineofpurplishbloodranfromhernostrils.Stelemadeadismissivegesture.“Inamoment.WhereisArkio?”“Conflicted…”Ulanmanaged,nervesinherfacejerking.“Heseeks…reassurance…”“We cannot lose the momentum of the attack,” he growled. Already, things had deviated from

Stele’scarefullyengineeredplanswiththesuddenrevelationofRafenandArkio’swoundthroughafoolishmomentofinattention.“Attendme,”hedemanded.The thin, pale girl stumbled toward him, the lexmechanic mumbling fearfully in dozens of

differenttongues.“Lord…”shesaidthickly.“I…amatmylimits…”“Yes,yes,”heretorted,ignoringtheagonythatradiatedoffheraura.“Here.”Hegraspedherface

andlethisfingersfindtheghost-metalcontactsunderthepolyfleshscabsonherskin.UlantensedasStelecorralledandusedherhaphazardpowertoaugmenthisownwarp-sight.Atoncehedetectedthehiddenclustersofwildmindson theedgesofhis sensorium,visibleonly tohimbecauseheknewwhere to seek them. “Garand,” he intoned, his voice slicing through the warp. “It is time.” Stelereleased thewomanwith a jerk and her head lolled backward.Ulan’s blind eyes showed only thebloodshotwhites.Theinquisitorturnedinplaceasheheardthefirstscreamsofrocketmotors.Fromconcealedhides

scatteredthroughouttheruins,spatfrombeneathrubbleandtheprotectivesheathesofcamo-cloaks,salvosofmissilesloopedinovertheedgesofthedebris-chokedsquareandfellonrodsoforangesmoke.

EveryBloodAngelknewthesound,andtheytookcover—butthepressingknotsofArkio’szealotsmaderapidmovementimpossible.Thewarheadsstreakedintothesquareandstruckadozenpointsatonce,throwingupred-blackfireballs.ThreeofMephiston’sThunderhawkswereinstantlycrippledordestroyed,andahandfulofmenwereblownapartwhentherocketsfellshortandlandedinthemelee.TheLordofDeathraisedhisfreehandtoshieldhiseyesfromtheglare.Hotflamecrackledasthe

rainsizzledintosteam,thesuddenglowunderlightingthegreyclouds.“Andsotheyspringtheirtrapatlast.Iwonderedhowlongwewouldhavetowait.”“Indirect fire from the south, west and east quadrants!” the Techmarine reported, fending off a

zealotwithapunchfromhisservo-arm.“WeaponsignaturedoesnotmatchBloodAngelmunitions.”“Ofcourse.”Mephistonsnapped,bringinguptheswordVitarus.“Andwhatnewplayerhasjoined

thissorryperformance?”Theveteransergeantnoddedtothewestasheslammedafreshclipofammunitionintohisbolter.

“Icansmellthemfromhere,lord.Hornedbraggartsbythecartload.”Mephiston saw figures dropping from the upper tiers of ruined buildings or emerging from

concealed trapdoorsover rubble-filledbasements.Theyworearmour ina stringent shadeof ruby,bedeckedwithchainsandsmokinglanterns.Horussproutedinriotsfromtheirhelmsandheads,andastheycameontheirvoiceswereraisedinblasphemoushymns.“WordBearers.Thedesignofthisinfamybecomesclearer…”“Butthescouts,”saidtheTechmarine.“Thescoutsreportednocontacts.”TheLibrarian threw the sergeant a grave look, and a grim understanding passed between them.

“Ourscoutsarealldead,”saidtheveteran.From the instant he had spoken of traps and double-crosses to Commander Dante in the

monastery’sarboretum,Mephistonknewthismomentwouldcome;yetasithappened,hisirewasnotlessened.Agutturalsnarlbaredhiscanines.“BloodAngels!”heshouted.“Toarms!”Vitarussanghighanddrankdeepfromtheenemyaboutthepsyker.

“Confirmed,” droned the servitor. “Multiple discharges on the planetary surface, evidence ofsmall-armsfireandmedium-yieldtacticaldetonations.Voxtrafficinterceptsconcur.”Captain Ideon released a slow,metallic growl from his mechanical throat. “More betrayal,” he

snarled.“GreatArkiowasrighttosuspecttheLordofDeath.Hehaseschewedthehandofpeaceinfavourofattack.” Ideonmadeagrunt thatwashis immobile form’sequivalentofanod.“Sobe it,then.”Solus frowned. “Wecannot be surewho fired the first shot. Itmayhavebeen amistake…”The

wordsseemedweakastheyfellfromhislips.“Mistake?”Ideonrattled,hissyntheticvoicebuzzinglikehornetsinatincan.“Mephistondoesnot

make mistakes, Solus. This is a declaration of war!” The captain’s stoic face twitched and themechadendrites protruding from his skull whispered against one another. “Prepare to engage theEuropae!”“Europaeisturning,”calledthesense-servitor,“adoptingbattlestance.Detectiontransientsindicate

multipleweaponbayactivations.”“Yousee?”Ideonhusked.Solusfoundhiswordsdyinginhisthroatandheturnedaway.Atthesamemoment,hiseyesfellon

the hololithic chart in the tacticarium.Warning glyphs were streaming through the ghostly green

light.“There’ssomeoneelseoutthere,”hesaidaloud.

Sabien’sdebrisringwasamixtureofbrokenstonesastallasmountainsandgreatdriftinglakesoffrozenice.Densewithheavyores,totheeyesofastarship’smachine-spiritthebeltofasteroidswasaconfusedswatheofgarbled,reflectedsensorreturns.Onthesurfaceitseemedliketheidealplacetohideavessel,butnocaptainwouldeverhavebeensofoolhardytoattemptsuchathing.Theblanketofconfusionthatseededtheringalsomadenavigationinsideitsconfinesvirtuallyimpossible.Boththe Bellus and the Europae saw the belt as a natural hazard, just another element of the orbitalenvironment. Neither vessel expected the chilling sight of a starship emerging from the shaggymorassoftumblingstones.Underpowerfromahardthrusterburn,theDesolator-classbattleshipextendedoutoftheSabien

Belt likea redbladepunched througha torso.The jaggedprowdipped like thesnoutofahuntingpredator,moving inexorably to bear on theEuropae.Asteroids battered into the craft as itmovedfromthedebrisring,punchingrentsinthehull;thecaptainofthevesselwaswillingtoallowmenonhis outer decks to die so that the ship could complete itsmanoeuvre,weathering the damage.Thecrewmen aboard Mephiston’s flagship sounded alerts and charged their torpedo tubes, gangs ofChapter serfs hoisting warheads as big as watch-towers into the open maws of launchers. ThemonstrousChaos craft continued to turn, the target scanners of the bow guns briefly crossing theshape of theBellus.Not one of theweapons released itswarshot towardArkio’s battle barge; thebattleshipcrewhadtheirorders,onpainoflengthyandhorrifictorture,toconcentratealltheirinitialattackontheEuropae.

Solussawthelancebatterieswinkathimlikeblindedeyesas theshipturnedonward,comingtobearonMephiston’svessel.“They…theydidnot fireonus…”hebreathed,hardlyable tobelievewhathehadseen.“Aggressoridentityconfirmed,”themechanicalchatteroftheservitorinthedetectionpitclattered

forth.“Vessel is thebattlecruiserMisericorde, linewarcraft in service to theWordBearersLegionandtheRuinousPowers.”“Vandire’soath!”spatSolus.“Whatisthismadness?”TheBloodAngel’smindracedthroughthe

possibilities—couldtheChaosshipbesomesortofally to theLordofDeath?DarehebelievethatMephiston,orevenDantehimselfwasconsortingwiththescumoftheMaelstrom?“StatusofMisericorde,”Ideondemanded.“Arewetheirtarget?”“Negative,”camethereply.“AllgunsontheshiparecomingtobearontheEuropae!”“Athirdforce?”TherewasasmileinIdeon’sartificialvoiceashiseyesflickedatSolus.“Anunexpectedpieceof

goodfortune!ThehandofSanguiniusprotectsus…”“ButwecannotsimplyignoreaChaoscapitalship!”Solusblurtedout.“Itisourdutyto—”“Youdarespeaktomeofduty?”Ideonsnapped,hisvoicecrackingaboutthebridgecloisterslike

thunder.“I,whohaveservedourChapterfortwohundredyearsfromthisverythrone?”Thecaptain’swordsdroppedtoalowrumble.“Knowthis,myerrantbattle-brother,whenfate’starotdealsahandofswords,usethem.Youknowtheoathwetake.”Solus repeated the litany by automatic rote. “To the ship, the Chapter, the primarch and the

Emperor.”“Yes, andwhile theMisericorde is the enemy of the Emperor, theEuropae is the enemy of our

primarch and our Chapter. Mephiston’s extermination takes precedence.” In response to a mentalcommand, pict-screens at Solus’ station flickered to display long range images of the fighting onSabien.“Youonlyhavetoviewthebattleunfoldingbelowustoknowthetruthofthat.”

“Misericordeisfiring,”saidthesense-servitor.“Europae’svoidshieldsareholding.”“Let’sshowthosecorruptedfoolshowitisdone,eh?”saidIdeon.“Theorderis,targettheEuropae

andfire.”Solushesitated.“Didyounotunderstand thecommand,Solus?”Therewasa razor-keenwarning in thecaptain’s

manner.“Openfire,”saidSolus,inadead,tonelessvoice.

Thesquarewasacauldronofinfernoasfiguresinshadesofredclashedacrosstherubbleandthestones.Arkio’s thousand-stronghelotarmy in their terracotta robesand the loyalistSpaceMarineswhofoughtwiththemclashedwithMephiston’sBloodAngels,andtheydrewfireandlaidweaponstobearupon theWordBearersswarming into thebrokenarena.Therewasnoplanofbattlehere,nocarefultacticstoroutanddefeattheenemy—insteadeachsideengagedinthegrislyattritionofhand-to-handfighting.Thesquarebecameamassoffireandscreamsasmenandtraitorscametogethertokillorbekilled.Inthethickofit,Rafenwasawhirlwindofdestruction,thepowerswordrunninghotinhishandas

hetoreapartzealotsandrippedopenChaosMarines.Inequalmeasurethedarkglamourofthebattlerepelledandexcitedhim,theburningfloodofadrenalinecominguponhimlikesomeghostlycaress.The raging fight was already spilling over the cracked and fallen walls of the plaza, into thesurrounding streets. Some of Mephiston’s men—veteran assault troops with their characteristichelmets of sunburst yellow—bobbed up on jump packs. They carried plasma weapons and heavyflamers,seekingoutthemissileshootersstillhidingintheruinsanddousingtheminliquidfire.Onthewindscamethesmellofcookedmeatandthebone-snapofsuperheatedceramite.Daggersandwork implements turned intoclubsrangnoisilyagainstRafen’spowerarmourasa

clusterofArkio’swarriorstriedtosurroundhimandbeattheMarinetotheground.Rafenletoutacruellaughattheiridiocy;hepitiedthesefools,willinglyblindedbythedogmaspoutedbySachiel.Inquickandeconomicalmoves,heusedeverypartof the sword todispatch them,breakingskullswiththeflatofthebladeandthepommel,cleavingtorsoswiththekeenedge,smashingribcageswiththespikedguardabouthisfingers.Iftheseimbecileswantedtodieinthenameoftheirfalsemessiah,thenRafenwouldbemorethanwillingtoaccommodatethem.Thefightebbedandflowed,movinglikeanoceanswell.Figureswerecaughtupinthemorass,the

pressoffleshandsteelsendingRafenstaggering.Somewherealongthelinehehadlosthishelmet.Several timeshewas forced to halt and seekhis direction, andmore thanoncehebarelypulled akillingblowbeforeaMarinefromMephiston’scontingent.Rafenhadalreadyensuredthathewouldnot suffer a similar error by burning off the spear and halo design on his shoulder pad with adiscardedhandflamer.Thedirtyblackscaronthesideofhiswargearparadoxicallymadehimfeelcleaner,asifthekissoftheburningpromethiumhadpurgedthetaintofSteleandhiscorruption.Rafen’sboot rangagainstahollowshapeand itcaughthisattention.Thereathis feet,where the

spilledbloodandgreyrainhadturneddriftsofdrybrickdustintotar-likeslurry,abodyinwhiteandred ceramite had been abandoned. The corpsewas pressed into themud, twisted and broken by astampedeofhelots,butRafenknewitinstantly.“Sachiel…”Whilethefighthaddriftedbackandforth,thedeadpriesthadremainedwherehefell,

the spotlessand immaculatearmourheonceworenowruinedwithbloody footprintsandsmearedwith gore. The Apothecary’s eyes were open, blankly staring up into the hissing torrents of rain.Rafenhadneverhadanythingotherthanantipathyforhisarrogantrival,butnowashelookedupontheexpressionofhorror anddespondency frozenon thedeadman’s face,he felt onlypity for thepriest.However unwittingly, Sachiel had placed his own quest for glory beyond his loyalty to the

Chapter,andhereinthedarkmirehelayfullypaidforthatmendacity.Rafensmackedawayanotherattackerwiththebuttofhisbolterandtookamomenttoreload.He

glancedaroundashedid,findinghisbearingsbytheactinicglowofbluemind-firethatblazedaboutthe Lord of Death. Steamwreathed the Librarian in white streams where the rainwater flashed tovapouraroundhim.AsRafenwatched,theethereallightningthathaloedMephistoncongealedaroundtheuprightsparsofhispsychichood,coilingintorodsofenergythatsearedhiseyestolookat.Twinhorned skulls at the tips of the ghost-metal psy-wave conductors flashed with barely controlledpower, and the Librarian swelled beneath his blood red armour, drawing the lethal potential intohimself.Colours and shades that had no place on the plane of the living came into being, the air itself

shimmering and bending like a phantom lens. Rafen saw Mephiston’s target—a squad of WordBearersHavocMarines,bristlingwithheavyweapons.TheLordofDeathturnedhisfacetothemandhis eyes flashed.On the battlefield, Rafen had seen other BloodAngels psykers use the skill theycalledtheQuickening,ablanketofpowerthatcouldturntheuserintoatornadoofdestruction,butMephistonwasthemasterofanotherpsionicforce,onethatdwarfedthetalentsoftheLibrariansandcodicerswhoservedbeneathhim.ThepoweroftheSmitewasunleashed,ablazeofinsanegeometrycut from liquid light fanningout intoa teardropofpureandundilutedannihilation.Thewitch-fireengulfed the Havocs and set them alight; ammunition packs detonated and armour split. RafeninstinctivelyjoinedinonthegreatcheerofapprovalthatcamefromMephiston’sBloodAngels.He waded forward to meet the psyker commander, saluting with the power sword as the Chief

Librariancaughtsightofhim.“Mylord!”“Rafen.”Mephistongrowled,“Youlivestill,yetsodoesyourerrantsibling.”“ThezealotscutmeofffromhimbeforeIcould—”Rafenbegan,buttherestofhiswordswere

drownedoutbya roar fromArkio’s raggedwarriors.Theslavearmy,drivenonbysomeshoutedcommandfromthebackoftheirlines,rushedforward.RafenthoughtheheardStele’svoiceonthewind,butthenhisattentionwasonthementearingathim.Atpoint-blankrangeheunleashedtheboltpistol,poppingheadslikeoverripefruits,punchingholesasbigashismailedfistincloakedbodies.“Theyfightliketheyarepossessed!”hegrated, thepressofthechargeforcinghimtoMephiston’sflank.“Indeed,”repliedtheLibrarian,hisforceweaponslashingawidearcofbloodandentrails.“They

rallytotheir‘BlessedOne’.”Rafen ran throughaWordBeareras it emerged from thepack, takinghim from jowl tobowel,

emptying a nest of blackened, stinking organs on the dirt. “Lord, my task lies undone. Give mepermissiontodisengageandseekoutmybrother.”Mephistoneyedhim.“Youwoundedhimandhefled.Whatkindofmessiahisthat?”“Hewillreturn,mylord.Iknowtheconflictinsidehim,butifIdonotstrikenow,Arkiowillreturn

andlaywastetothisplace.Imustfindhim,whilehisguardisdown!”“You understand what will occur if you fail, Rafen?” The Librarian’s voice was low and hard.

“Evenaswespeak,mybattlebargeisengagedinafightforitssurvivalinorbit.Ihaveleftorderswiththebrother-captaincommandingherthatifArkio’sloyaliststipthebalance,thenSabienistobetargetedwithcyclonictorpedoes.Betterthisshrineworldbecomeashesmenthisschismbeallowedtospreadfurther.”“Icanstophim,”Rafeninsisted.“ItiswhatIcameheretodo.”Mephistongavehimanod. “Sobe it, then.”He turnedaside andcalledout. “Techmarine.Bring

BrotherRafenajumppack,quickly.”“Ajumppack,lord?”“Arkiohaswings.Wemustgiveyouwingsofyourown,lad.”

“Stele!Whatabortionhaveyoucreatednow?”The inquisitorwhirled,Ulan clinging to his arm, as a knot ofWordBearers punched theirway

throughthehelotlines,withGarandattheirhead.AloyalistMarinefoolishlyturnedhisgunontheWarmaster, stepping forward to protect Stele and his retinue from the threat. Garand angrily spatacidicvenomanddecapitatedtheBloodAngelwithasinglesweepofhisbane-axe.“LordGarand.”Stelesaid,decidingnottobow.“Welcome.”“Mypatiencewiththisridiculousschemeofyoursisatanend,human.”Garandmenacedhimwith

the humming axe. “You know the bargain! Bring these mewling BloodWhelps to the Banner ofChangeorforfeityourlife.”“Don’tpushme,WordBearer.”Steleshouted,emboldenedbytheheatofthebattleragingaround

them.“MyorderscomefromMalfallax,notyou!Itwillbedone,butbymydesign,notyours.”“Your design!” Garand spat again. “Pathetic weakling, with your schemes and your little

performances,noneofthatmattersnow.InLorgar ’sname,thebattleisjoined.Thesemen-preywillstandwiththeeightortheywillperish.”“No!”Steleroared,andGarandblinkedinsurpriseatthevehemenceofthehuman’sdenial.“Ihave

cometoofar,paidtoomuchforthismoment.Itismine,andyouwillnotusurpit,creature.”“Youdare.”Garand’seyesnarrowedandhemarshalledhispsykerpotencytochastisetheranting

inquisitor—buttherewasanullvoidsurroundinghim,athickweaveofpoisonousnon-spaceissuingfromthemindofthefemaletrailingattheinquisitor ’sheels.“Bah,”snortedtheWarmaster,recoiling.“Haveyourpettygame,then.”TheWordBearerslordbrandishedhisaxeandcalledtohismen.“PickyourtargetsandculltheBloodAngels.Collateralkills…”andhesmiled,“…atyourdiscretion.”OutofStele’searshot,a tech-priestslunkforwardfromGarand’sunit tobowat theWarmaster ’s

feet.“GreatWitchPrince,avoxfromtheMisericorde.TheyhaveengagedMephiston’swarship,butthe presence of theBellusvexes the ship’s machine-spirit. The crew is discontent to let a secondAstartescraftgounpunished.WhatshouldItellthem?”“Tell them…”Aslowandhateful smilecrossedGarand’spallid lipsandheglancedatStele.He

wouldcastigatetheconceitedbraggartfordaringtoraisehisvoicetohim.“TellthemtheBellusistobeconsideredexpendable.”

Thebattle in theskiesofSabienchangedfromadelicate joust toabrutal,punishingfightas thethreeshipsclosedthedistancebetweenoneanother.Intermsoftonnagethecombatantswereevenlymatched:theBellusandtheEuropaeweresisterships,theirkeelslaiddowninthemidstoftheHeresyera,bothofthemcutfromsteelforgedinthefurnacesofEnigmaVI,bothcreatedaccordingtothesacredtenetsofastandardtemplateconstructprogrammefromtheMechanicuslibrariumsonMars.Misericordewaslongerinthebeambutslenderwherethebattlebargeswerebluntaxe-headsinform.Once, the battleship had been a human vessel, but that identity had long been subsumed beneathcenturiesofcreepingmutation, theoldself lostandforgotten in thewarp.Garand’svesselbristledwith hateful power. It was predator-fast comparedwith the slow, heavy hunters of the barges, butspeed and firepower cancelled each other out.Had any two of the ships faced off, the battle’s endwouldnothavebeeneasytopredict—butinathree-wayengagement,allbetswereoff.Misericordepoweredforward,thescreamingmouthsofitsdrivebellsvomitingflame.Lancefire

connectedtheshipwithEuropae,greenandredthreadsofcoherentparticlesstringingbetweenthem,thengone.Sphericalexplosionsopenedlikepuffballsintothevacuum,spillingicedgasesandspentmen into the dark.As theChaos andBloodAngels ships crossed the distance toward one another,IdeonbroughtArkio’sflagshipupinMisericorde’sshadow,allowingthepowerfulbowgunstorippast the ruby-coloured cruiser and strikeEuropae’s glittering void shields.The barge’s ephemeral

energyscreensflickeredanddeformedundertheonslaught,sheddingthemightofherattackerslikerain, but already the enigmatic field generators in the barge’s heartwere reacting to the pressure,sendingwavesofsympatheticpanicintothetech-prieststhatministeredtothem.Europaewasstrong,tobesure,butshewouldnotresistsobarbaricanassaultforlong.In the depths of space, such fights took place at ranges thatwould swallow a star system, ships

hittingshipsbeyondeachother ’svisualranges.Theclose-infightingofnear-orbitengagementswasanentirelydifferentgame.Ifonewasafencingmatch,fullofelegantmovesandpinpointstrikes,thentheotherwasadirtystreetbrawl,punchesbeingtradedwithferocityandkillerintent.Europae leaptforwardwithoutwarning,aplumeof fusionfirenova-brightandblindingeruptingfromherstern.Sheveeredtoportinasavageturnthatstressedthehullbeyonditstolerances,poppingoutthousandsofancient,giantrivets.Thebrutalmanoeuvrebledspeedandgravityaway,pushingEuropaeontoadifferenttackandendingthelivesofdozensoflucklesscrewcaughtinthewrongsectionsofthehullspaces.The turn came out of nowhere and it was near suicidal. Ideon’s surprise was enough that he

hesitatedasecondtoolongasMephiston’sshippresenteditselfinpassing.Bythetimethecommandtofirethebowgunshadbeenrelayed,Belluswascarvingatemptyair likeanaddledpunch-drunk.Europae’screwwasprepared,however.Secondary batteries, laser cannonswith great quartz lenses broad as the eye of a kraken, spat a

killingglareoverBellus’sstarboardflank.Thebattlebargemoanedundertheimpact,andIdeonfeltthescreechasthemachine-spirit’spainanaloguerippedintohim.Thesimple,animalmindofBellushissedandspat;itlackedtheintellecttounderstandwhyanotherBloodAngelsshipwouldattackit.Europaeextendedher turn,comingaboutonacourse thatwouldallowtheship toenterBellus’s

rearwardarc.Evenwiththeacresofarmouranddouble-projectedvoidshieldingthatprotectedit,acaptainwouldbecourtingsuicidetoallowanattackingvesselthefreedomtothrowshellsandlas-fireinto his drive nozzles. Ideon spat curses and bellowed out orders, his hands twitching into angryclawsinararemomentofphysicalreaction.Thetwobargesturnedintooneanother,matchingspeedforspeedastheybecamecaughtinadeadlywaltz.TheycontinuedtotradefireasMisericordecameabout, sighting theboresofher lethalhellgunsoverBellus.Ahumancaptainmighthavewaited; ahuman captainmight have evaluated the consequences and held his fire untilEuropaebecame theclearertarget.But,likehisship,Misericorde’scaptainhadlongforgottenhishumanoriginsandanyformoffealtytoweakabstractslikefidelityorcompassion.Thereddaggerfreeditsweaponstodotheirworst,andMisericorde’sstarboardarmamentsblazed

in one cascade of hotmurder.Many of the shots found their true target, striking vitals all acrossEuropae’shull,butjustasmanypuncturedBellus,firingthroughtheloyalistshipasifitweresomecursorypieceofcovertobedisintegrated.Ideon’sprimaryheartstammeredwithshockaslaserfiretoreturretsandminaretsfromthedeckof

Bellus.Hisheadjerkedonold,unusedmusclesinhisneck,thetinymotionthefirsthehadmadewithit indecades.Thecaptainmadeeye-contactwithSolusandsawthemuteaccusation inhissecond’sgaze, thenaplasmaconduitburstbehindhimand IdeonwatchedSolusbecomea shriekinghumantorch.“Return fire,” he roared above the din, the shout running into distorted crackle through his

implantedvoxcoder.“Which target?” asked the gun-servitor, the dull voice at odds with the violent emotions of the

battle.“Allofthem,”Ideondemanded,andBellusfiredeverygunatonce,growingspinesoflaserlight

andmissilefire.

Rafen’sskillwith the jumppackwashardlyamatch for the trainedbattle-brothersof theassaultsquads, but itwas enough to guide him over the dense heart of the fighting, skipping him off theground in steep, loping arcs of orange flame. He twisted nimbly in mid-air, avoiding the brightstreaksofmissilesandredboltsof laserfire.At thezenithofa leapfromabrokenbattlement,hissightcapturedaglintofshininggoldandbrilliantwhite.Heskippedofftheground,sparingamomenttoshootdeadahelotsoldier,thenpoweredbackinto

theair.Hespunandturned,becameaguidedmissilehimself.Rafenletthethrusterpackspewflameand aimhim at the cored remains of a cathedral.Only the stonewalls remained, the placeswheregreatarcsofstainedglassoncestoodnowopen,wailingmouths.Theroofwasgone,sweptawaybysomelong-fadeddetonationshockwave,andtheendlessrushoftheraincascadedoverbrokenteethofstone.Statuesheadless,bisectedandshatteredlinedtheaislesandtransepts.Inplaces, themosaicfloorhadcollapsedintothecryptsbelow.Rafenlandedinahissofsparksfromhisbootsandthere,half-cloakedintheshadowsofahuge

granitealtar,hesawawhitespreadofwings.“Arkio.”Hisvoicecarriedthelengthoftheruinedhall.“Thismustendnow.”Withdeliberation,hisbrotherturnedtofacehim,thegoldenarmouremergingfromthedarkness.

Where he had beenwounded, a creeping purple-black bloodstain flowed like living oil across historso.ThereweretinypearlsofdarkmatterdisfiguringArkio’sfaceandneck.“Yes,”heintoned.“Itmust.”AndsuddenlythedarkwasbanishedbyaviolentsurgeofyellowlightningastheSpearofTelesto

shookintolife.

CHAPTERTWELVE

BileroseinRafen’sthroatashelaideyesonhisbrother.Thealabasterskinofhisface,thenoblepatricianlinesweredistortedinsubtleandcruelways.“Whathaveyoubecome?”heaskedhissibling.Arkioeyedhimcoldly.“Yourbetter,Rafen.Thesuperiortoall livingthings.”Therainspattered

aroundhimashewalkedoutoftheshadowsandacrossthechurch’sruinednave.“Ihavebanishedalldoubts.”Hethrewacursorygestureatthealtarbehindhim.Sheetlightningflashedandilluminatedthetransept.Rafengaspedashesawtheremainsofastatue

of the Emperor, beheaded by a single stroke of theHoly Lance. “Does your blasphemy know nobounds?”hesaid,shakingwithanger,“ItisnotenoughthatyougoagainstyourkinandyourChapter,butnowyouturnyourbackontheGod-Emperorhimself?”Arkiomadea lazygesturewith thehummingspear. “Whatneedhave I forgodswhen I amone

myself?”“Youaredeluded.”RafenstabbedafingeratArkio’sside,wheretheswordcuthehadinflictedstill

festered.“Ifyouareagod, thenwhydoyoubleed likeaman?Orperhaps,notaman…Perhapsawarp-touchedthing,apawnofChaos.”Arkiothrewbackhisheadandlaughed.Thebitterhumourechoedoffthebrokenwalls.“Chaos?”

Hethrewthewordaside.“Achildishlabelforsomethingyoucouldneverunderstand.”“I understand enough.” Rafen shouted back at him. “My brother, my blood kinsman has been

poisonedbythewarp.Steleledyoutothis.”Hebrandishedhissword.“Recant,Arkio.Whilethereisstilltime.”Thegoldenfigurespreadhisarmswideandthewingsonhisbackflowedopeninarushofwind.

“Thisisnotheresy,andIwillnotrecant,”hesnarled.“Myeyesareopen,brother.Iknowitallnow…Menandmonsters,orderandChaos…”Hepointedthespearatthesky.“Justwords.Thereisnorightandwrong,noblackandwhite.Onlythestrong…andtheweak.”“AndwhatamI?”Arkioignoredhim.“IwillnotbendmykneetotheGoldenThroneortheDarkGods.Ipayfealty

tonoone!”Hecockedhishead,themetallicsun-shapedhalobehindhisheadglitteringinthespear ’sglow.“Thisgalaxywillfalltome…Iwillbethemaster.”“Itwillnot.”Rafengrated.Hisfingerstightenedaroundthehiltofhissword.Arkio’seyesflashed.“ThenIwillburnittoashes,blindeverystar,culleverylifethatdefiesme.”There was no hesitation in his brother ’s face, not an iota of doubt within him. The ironclad

certaintyofArkio’swordstookRafen’sbreathaway.“Youaremad.”“AmI?”Hedrewthewordsoutintoasigh.“We’llsee.”RedflameexplodedfromRafen’sjumppack,blastinghimforward,firelickingatthewallsofthe

shatteredchancel.Arkiomovedso fasthe faded intoayellow-whiteblur,bothof themclosing thedistancedowntheaisleinheartbeats.They collided with such force that the impact blew down an ornate colonnade, both of them

spinning away from the point of impact on headlong trajectories. Arkio’s wings unfurled and heskippedoffabrokencolumn,thunderingbackatRafen.Hisbrotherclippedawall,andusedahissingjetofthrusttomimichisopponent’smanoeuvre.Theymetagaininmid-airoverthenaveandflashedpasteachother,bladesglittering.

Rafenletoutaroarofpainasthehotapexofthelanceranaslicethroughhisthigh,drawingafanofblood.ArkiowobbledandbrokethroughanobeliskasRafen’spowerswordseveredthelinkagecablesonhis right shoulderpad,butmissedhis flesh.Thegoldhemisphereofmetal andceramitearmourspunawayandclatteredintotheshadows.Thinprocessorfluidsleakeddownhisarmandthecutplastiformmusculaturetwitched.Rafenlandedhardandopenedfirewithhisboltpistol,thumbingtheselectortofullautomaticfire.

Shellscrashedfromthemuzzleofthegun,sheddingspentcasingsinafountainofgleamingbrass.Thehotcasingsclatteredtothestonefloor,buzzingastheystruckthegatheringpuddlesofrainwater.Arkioswoopedandloopedbetweentheremnantsofcolumnsandarcingroofsupports,Rafen’sshotschewingchunksofancientmasonry from the frameof thechurch.Hebracketedhisbrotherwithahailofbullets,afewluckyroundskissinghisarmourandkeeningawayinorangegoutsofsparks.Arkioclosedthedistance,swingingthespear inafigureofeight that leftbrightafter-imageson

Rafen’sretina.TheBloodAngeldeftlychangedtack,droppingbackthepistol topresent thepowersword.HestoodhisgroundasArkiodovedownathim,waitingforthemomentofchangewhenthewingedfigurewouldtelegraphhisattack.Arkio’sfaceopenedinasnarlandherodethelancelikeajoustingknight,aimingitdirectlyatthe

centreofhisbrother ’storso.Rafenbitbackagrimsneerandfadedintothemove,turning,spinning,clashingthesword’sbrightbladeagainsttheadamantiumtipofthespear.Theblowpushedhimback,strikinggritandsparksfromthestonesunderhisfeet,dartsofbrightlightblazingwherebladekissedblade. Arkio followed through on the strike with a reversal, sweeping the blunt end of the speararound to catch his legs and trip him.Rafen squeezed the thruster pack control in the palmof hisgloveforafractionofasecondandletaspurtofflamethrowhimclear.Heflippedinasomersaultandlandedonaledge,presentingtheboltpistolagain.Rafenemptiedtherestoftheammunitioncliptowardhisbrother,andArkioskippedtotheside,dodgingbetweenthelowbulksofburialcryptsandmonuments.The golden figure let out braying, harsh laughter as the rounds harmlessly spent themselves on

stonework andpavement.Arkio turnedonhis heel and thrust theHolyLance atRafen,willing theweapontoreleasethepowerfulenergieshumminginsideit.Forthebriefestsecond,thespearseemedtoobeyhim,glowingbrightlyasaballofhoneyedlightninggatheredattheendoftheteardropblade.Rafen sprang from his ledge, skipping off a fallen granite eagle to another naked support beam.Arkiofollowedhimandgoadedhisweapontounleashitskillingforce,butoncemoretheSpearofTelestoshiftedinhisgrip,rollingaboutitslength.Itjerkedthroughhisfingersasifitweretryingtoescapehim.“No!”Arkio spat, and in his anger he swung the errantweapon around him in an arc of light,

slashingthroughtwosupportcolumnsandabrokenstatue.Thespearmoanedandshuddered.“Youcannotdenyme.”Arkiothundered.“Iamyourmaster!”Thick,poisonedspittleflewfromhislipsinhis fury,andhis regal facecontorted.Scarsemerged fromhischeeksand forehead,weeping thickoil, bringingwith them the hard pearls of blackmutation.Arkio seemed unaware of them as theywriggledandmovedbeneaththesurfaceofhisskin,shiftinglikeburrowingbeetles.His instant of rage brought distraction with it, and Rafen exploited the error to the fullest.

Slamminghomeafreshsicklemagazineofbolt-rounds,Arkio’sbrotherthrewhimselfoffthestonestanchionanddropped,unloadingtheguninaroaringblazeofgunfire.Thereportsofthebolt-shellscame so close together theymerged into a ripping snarl of noise. Arkio brought up the spear todeflect them a heartbeat too late, and the discharge struck him in the chest. Thewhite-hot impactsstaggeredhimbackward in jerks ofmotion, the thickbolts ripping long shreds of golden armourfrom him. Ceramite fragmented and plasteel broke away, crazing the coating of precious yellowmetal.

Arkio reacted with a growling shout of annoyance and shook himself, discarding bits of spentarmourclingingtohisarmsandhischest.Throughholescoredintheplates,duskyliquidsbubbledandflowed.ThemarkofStele’staintwasnolongerconcealedwithintheprisonofhisflesh.Releasedby the wanton hate that churned in Arkio’s mind, the changed aspect of the Space Marine wasrevealed.Rafenfeltphysicallysickatthesightofhisbrother.ThefoetorofhimstrangledtheBloodAngel’s

senses,andtherevelationofabodyirredeemablytaintedbyChaoswasanaffront toeverythinghestoodfor.Rafenwilledhimselftoforgetthatsomelastpieceofhisbloodbrother ’ssoulmightstillsurvivebehindthatwarpedface,andattackedagain.Arkio was ready for him. The winged figure spun the lance and met Rafen’s sword with a

thunderous strike, shattering the blade of the power weapon. Rafen snarled as he felt his wristdislocate in the impact. The shock threw him back against a fragmented piece of stained glass asArkiorearedupbeforehim.The flash of lightning reflectedArkio’s twisted face in the age-worn glass. “Look at yourself!”

Rafenshouted.“Lookatwhatyouhavebecome!”Arkioswungthespearandshatteredtheglassforever.“Fool,”hebellowed.“IknowwhatIam!I

AMSANGUINIUS!”Rafen tried tododge theblowheknewwascoming,but ithithim likea fallingmeteor.Onecut

slashedacrosshischest,strikinghisarmour;thesecondcamefromthebluntpommelanditsenthimcrashing to the ground. The Blood Angel struck the mosaic floor with a crash of sound and thestoneworkgavewaybeneathhim.He tumbled into a blackvoid and landedhard, the breath singingout of his lungs.Airwheezed

throughhischestaccompaniedbyripsofpainandhisvisionfogged.Is thisdeath,hewondered,atlast?Hisfingerstracedtheshapesofsomethingfamiliar,andinthedimnessheglimpsedtheformsofskeletons. Hundreds of them—but not human ones. These were larger, stockier. With a start heunderstood:Arkio’sblowhadthrownhimintoacryptforSabien’swardead,wheretheBloodAngelswhodieddefendingtheplanethadbeeninterred.Aboutthewallsofthesepulchrewerestonecarvingsof SpaceMarines. In the shadows they towered over him like a granite honour guard, mute andstrong.Rafenscrambledtohisfeet,ignoringthepain.Allabouthimwerehisbrethren,deadforcenturies

inthisdesolate,lonelyplace.Asinglethoughtburnedinhisbrain:Iwillnotjointhem!Thefuryofitracedthroughhim,ignitinganinfernoinhisveins.Thebrokensworddroppedfromhisfingersandheclenchedhisfist,feelinghotangerpourintohim.Fromtheedgesofhisvisioncamesomethingbrightandpowerful,aglowofinfiniteperfection.Foronemoment,hethoughtArkiohadfollowedhimintothecrypt,butthelightofitoutshoneevenhisbrotherinhismostomnipotentmoment.Rafenlookedupandsawthetruefaceofhisliegelordfillingtheairbeforehim,thegene-kindredinhisbloodmanifesting itself tohim.Thevisionoverwhelmedhim,blockingout allpain, allhesitation.Sanguinius!Aragesopureitburntwhite-hotswelledinRafen’sheart,andtheredthirstovertookhim.

Afreshwaveofhooting,hornedmonstrositiesjoinedthemadthrongofthegroundbattle,bladesand guns shouting in the clash. The square was a seething ocean of red shades, crimson fightingagainst ruby, incarnadine versus scarlet, moving and shifting in bloody tides. Mephiston and histroops ranged in a tight crescent about the remainsof theirThunderhawks, pressing forward theirattackswith grim determination and cold, cold rage. They faced thewild zealots ofArkio’s slavearmy,andalthoughtheShenlongihelotscarriedweaponsthatweremeretoysincomparisontothearmsoftheAdeptusAstartes,thesheerweightoftheirnumbersandthemadpassionoftheirfervour

were staggering. The warriors would not surrender or retreat. Only attrition would thin theirthousand-stronghordeintodefeat.The adherents ofArkio’s church stoodbySpaceMarines loyal to theRebornAngel, but in this

small number of red-armouredmen the seeds of doubt andmisgiving grew large.Many of themfoundthemselveshesitanttofireontheirownkind,andtheybecamelostintheseaofconflict.Worsestill,themenwhohadbenttheirkneetotakeArkio’soathwereshockedbythearrivalofanewforceofalliesuponthebattlefield,ruby-colouredfigureswhoseemedtobefightingnotagainstthem,butwiththem.WordBearers.DelossawthedarkshapesoftheChaosSpaceMarinesandfelthisgutchurnwithrevulsion.The

opticsofhisdeath’s-headhelmetstreamedwithrainwaterandspattersofmudashefought toclearthem. For a moment, he thought he had seen Inquisitor Stele actually standing toe to toe with amonstrousWordBearer,thentheragingmobhadobscuredhisviewandtheChaplainfoundhimselfpressedagainstafallenwall.Theweightofhisceremonialcroziusarcaniumwasdeadinhishand,desultory glimmers of energy fizzing around the device’s ornate skeletal carvings. The weaponmirroredhismoodsullenanduncertain.TheChaplaingraspeditinhismailedfistandspokeasilentprayer to his God-Emperor. If what Delos had seen was correct, then the man who had been thearchitectoftheRebornAngel’sAscensionwasconsortingwithhumanity’svilestenemy.Hehadtobemistaken.Hehadtobe.Thealternativeexplanationmadehimfeeldizzywithdreadandhorror.

PiecesofgoldandtattersofblackenedpurityparchmentsfellawayfromArkio’swargear,leavingscored metal below. The artificer armour, once unsullied and flawless, was now webbed withscratchesandscars.Yellowflecksstreamedintothewindlikeaduststorm,andthecrazedblemishesseemed to shift andmove in the half-light, tricks of the eyemaking them into viciousmaws andscreaming faces.New, inhumanmuscles bulged beneathArkio’s chest, and hiswings beat hard toholdhiminahover.Theinkystainofhiswoundwasgreyandpallid,linesoftoxinthreadingintothepinionsandfeathers,mottlingthem.Thevery smallest glimmerof regret formed inArkio’smind as he stareddownat theyawning

craterinthecrypt,andhestampedonitmercilessly.No,Rafenwouldnotbegracedwithamomentmoreofhisattention.Histroublesomebrotherwasended,andatlastArkiohadthefreedomhehadcovetedinthedarkcornersofhissoulsincechildhood.Alowmoan,arawandferalsound,issuedupfromthevoidinthestonefloor.ItsenttheSpearof

Telestotwitchinginhishandsoncemore,astheweaponwrithedandshuddered.Theskywhitenedaslightning flasheddaybreak-bright aroundhim,and thedazzlepickedout aman-shape inglisteningcrimsonbelow.Onwingsofjetfire,RafenpunchedintotheairandstruckArkiowithallhismight.Hecaughthisbrotherbysurprise,andtheBloodAngelfelthisbonesringwiththeimpactasthey

hit.Arkiospatoutastrangledyellofangerastheyflewupintothethickgreyclouds.Rainandwindlashed at their faces from the oily banks of vapour, buffeting them.They exchangedblows,Arkiostruggling to regain the advantage, unable to bring out the spear to strike back at so close anaggressor.Lightningshriekedclosetothem,thehotozoneoftormentedairsearingRafen’slungs.Inthe flash of illumination, he saw new lines of the black seed-boils emerging along Arkio’scheekbones, arranged there like ritual scarifications.His eyeswere shadedwith the purest, darkesthate.Rafenfoughttobringhisboltpistoltobear,squeezingoffasalvoofshots.ShellssizzledoffArkio

in mad ricochets, some cutting out divots of necrotic flesh, others deflecting from the pieces ofarmourthatstillclungtohisbrother ’schangedtorso.Arkiomadeawordlesssoundofrawrageandsnatched at thehandgun, his fingers forming a fist around theblockymetal shape.Hegrabbed theweaponandcrushedittopowderinabonygrip.Rafencriedoutashisfingerssnapped.

Arkiobattedhimawaywithalanguidbackhand,sendingRafenonawildcourseastherocketsinhisjumppackspatandlabouredtokeephimaloft.Thewingedfigureturnedafterhistarget, inthecloudedshadows,hisaspectlikeanangelofdeath.HetriedtoaimtheHolyLanceafterRafen,buttheweaponresistedhim.Itbentandbowedashepulledonit,asifthespearwasfrozenintheair.“Obeyme!”heshouted,yankingferociouslyatthehaft.“Iamyourmaster!”Inhisrage,thedarknesshiddeninsideArkiocamefloodingtothesurface,thesullenbeautyofhis

countenanceshiftingintoanaspectasthunderousasthecloudsabouthim.Thechangeracedthroughhim,downtothemolecularlevel,thecellsofthebloodhammeringinhisveinsblackening.Cradledin his grip, the potent technologies of theSpear ofTelesto tastedArkio, sampledhim through thegenome sensors threaded into theweapon’sornatehaft.Ancient science awoke in the lance, so farremovedfromtheadvancementsoftheImperiumastoborderonmagic.ItknewArkiothen,asithadknownhiminthefirstmomenthelaidhandsonit—andthistimethespearfoundhimwanting.Itrebelled.ThescentofChaoswasblackandthickintheRebornAngel,andtheTelestoweapon

went white-hot in his grip,melting themastercrafted gauntlets tomuddy gold slag. The pain wasinstantandheartstopping,andbysheeranimalreactionArkioreleasedtheburninglance,superheatedsteamhissingfromtheburningtissuesofhishands.Tumblingendoverend,theSpearofTelestofelltowardtheground,lightningcatchingtheteardropblade,windwhippingthepurityseals.Theweaponlandedlikeathrownjavelin,thebluntpommelattheshaft’sendcrackingthestonesof

the church floor as it struck them.Whirring with power, the spear came to rest upright, a nakedstandardindefianceoftheforcesthathadtriedtoabuseit.Overhead,Arkioswepttowardhisbrotherwithhisruinedhandsopeningintoclaws,themadness

ofkill-lustinhisgaze.Hisragewastitanicnow,andwithithewouldriphissiblingtoshreds,spearornospear.Rafen shook off the dizziness threatening towrap him in its coils and brought up his fists in a

fighting stance. He bobbed as his thruster pack choked and coughed. The BloodAngel dared notchancealookattherepeatergaugeabouthiswristcuffforfearitwouldconfirmwhathesuspectedalready—the jet pack was starving of fuel and damaged, and he had only moments of flight leftbeforehefellbackintotheembraceofSabien’sgravity.HeblinkedrainwaterfromhislashesasArkiofelluponhim,andthenoncemorethetwosiblings

werelockedina tumblingembrace,wrestlingamidthestormwithnothingbutfootlesshallsofairsurroundingthem.ArkioviciouslykickedRafenwherethespearhadcutalinethroughthefleshofhisthigh,crackingopenthewoundagainwhereRafen’sAstartesbloodhadalreadybeguntoclot.Hehowled and butted his brother in the face, gaining the reward of a fan of oily vitae gushing fromArkio’s flaring nostrils. A flurry of punches danced across Rafen’s ribcage as impacts dented hisceramitechestguard.Hetastedthehotcopperofhisownbloodastheblowsrattledhisteethinhishead.Rafenclutchedathisbrother, rakinghis fingersdown the thickskinoverhishairlesschest.The

mailedredfingersofhisbattleglovesdrewscarsacrossthepallidandgaunttissue;runnelsoftaintedblood gathered at wounds where hard marbles the shade of space protruded. He flailed as Arkiocrashedhimtohisbreastinacripplingbearhug.Rafenheardhisbonesbreakingwiththepressure.HisSpaceMarinephysiologymadehimandhis

kinduniquelyawareoftheirownbodies,soitwaswithcertaintythatRafensensedthebiscopeaorganinhischestburstashisribspressedinonit.Hewasbleedinginternallyinanumberofplaces.A blink of white sheet lightning turned his world into a washed-out sketch, just lines and

impressions dazzling his enhanced vision.Leering out of the blindness cameArkio’s twisted face,framedbythehaloabouthisneckandthebeatingtidesofhismottledgreywings.Thesoundandthefury of the thunderstorm swept away his younger brother ’s words, but Rafen could still read the

declarationofhateonhislips:Youwilldie.TherewasawordthatnoBloodAngelwouldeverchoosetospeak.Itwasacognomenthattheir

enemiesanddetractorshadusedsincethedaySanguiniustookuptheEmperor ’scause.Thenamewasas old as Terra herself, born from times before men strode the stars, forged in the fears ofsuperstitioushearts. It conjured all the deepest terrors of beasts that feastedupon life andbore thefangsofablood-letter.Vampire.Arkio’smouthsplitintoasmileaswideashisface,aforestofneedle-sharpcanineteethblooming

from his jaws. He became the avatar of the Blood Angels darkest and most horrific aspect, amonstrousparodyof thepredator legend.Rafen’sbrotherwas crushing the life fromhim,his lastbreathsofairescapinginchoking,wheezinggasps.Asthewindandrainlashedaboutthetumblingpair,Rafen felthis fury riseasArkio’shotbreath tickledhis skin.ThewingedAngelpressed intohim,hisredmawofamouthhungrytotearthemeatfromRafen’sneckandfeastonthehotgushofpulsinglifewithin.“No!” he roared in defiance.Vision fogging, grey tunnels coiling around his sight,Rafen once

againteeteredontheabyssofdeath;andoncemore,herefusedtoyieldtoit.His hands moved though motions drilled into the marrow of his bones by countless turns of

muscle-memory,fingersfindingandclaspingthehiltofhisfractal-bladedclosecombatweapon.TheSpaceMarineknifehadnotdifferedappreciablyinitsdesignsincetheearliestdaysoftheImperium,themonomolecularedgesoftheSol-patternweaponasfamiliartoRafenastheywouldhavebeentothefirstAdeptusAstartestenthousandyearsearlier.Yetforallitsage,theknifewasnolesslethal.Rafenstruckviolently,bringingtheweaponaboutandthrustingupwardintothespacesbetweenhis

brother ’sribs.Theknifeslidonslick,mattedskinandfellintothemoulderingwoundhehadgivenArkio in the square.Hepressed theblade into thewrithing,maggot-infestedcut, all theway to thesteelhilt.FromArkio’sempurpledlipscameascreamofinchoatepainthatpartedthecloudsaroundthem

withitsforce.Suddenly,itwasnolongerArkio’sbeatingwingsthatkeptthelockedpairintheair,butthe chattering, dying thrust fromRafen’s assault pack.The grey-white sails fluttered and curled asArkio’sfingersdugintoRafen’swargear,slippingoverrain-slickceramite.LightningblazedastrobeimageontoRafen’sretina,freezingtheinstantthereinshadesofwhite,

orangeandpurple.HesawagonyonArkio’sfacethelikeofwhichhehadneverencountereduponanybattlefield,andaword,asingleword,onhissibling’slips.Brother.Arkio’shandsskiddedawayfrompurchaseandhisweightdetacheditselffromRafeninawhirlof

streaming rain and falling feathers. He snapped out his arm, fingers reaching to scrape the goldsheathsonhis shoulders,missing asArkiodrewaway, sinking through the lowblanketofboilinggreycloud.Rafen’sbrother,theBlessed,theRebornAngel,theDeusSanguinius,tumbledawaylikeadownedpreybird,fallingtoearth.Below,amidtheshiningwetcobblesandglisteningmosaicsoftheruinedchurch’snave,theSpear

ofTelestosensedhimcoming.Theuprightweapon twitchedand jerkedof itsownaccord,shiftingand turning about its axis to bring the teardrop blade to welcome him. Arkio plunged from thethunderheadsandhisspinefoundtheheadofthelancewherehisshoulderbladesmet,atthecentreofhisoutstretchedwings.Hisimpactsentthefatalspearthroughthedensealteredbonesofhisskeleton,bisectinghisprimaryheartandexplodingoutagainthoughhissternum.Aperfectlycircularhollowformedinthestoneworkfromtheforceofthefall,andArkiolayinit,hiscorruptedbloodthinninginthedeluge,castingallabouthimwitharichpoolofpurplefluids.The tear-shaped leaf glowedwith golden flickers of colour, evaporating every last drop of his

vitaefromitsimmaculate,polishedsurface.

Theskyturnedtohell.Misericordebroughther fanged flanks tobearupon the twoBloodAngelswarships, unleashing

salvo after salvo of heavy rockets, hull-burners and laser fire into the zone of space about them.Mephiston’sflagshipEuropaehadspeedandmotiononherside,usinggenerousburstsofvectoredthrustfromhertertiarydrivestoturnandmovebeneaththesistershipBellus.Spinningaboutitsaxis,Europaeweatheredtheonslaught,distributingthestrikesthatreachedthebattlebargeacrosstheship’sglitteringvoidshields.Bellus,damagedandwounded, reactedmoreslowly.To theuntrainedeye, the twoBloodAngels

bargesseemedidentical,butatclosehandtheinjuriesandscarsBelluscarriedwererawandobvious.EuropaewasfreshfromBaal’sorbitaldocks, fullycrewed,perfectlymaintainedandat thepeakofherperformance;bycontrastBelluswastiredandworn.TheengagementoverSabienwas justonemorebattle in a stringof conflicts that theoldwarshiphadweathered—thewounds from the fightagainstthecruiserDirgeEternaatShenlong,thebattleshipOgreLordatCybeleandeventhelastinglacerationsfromthemissionintoorkspace,allofthemtooktheirtollontheBellus.Shewasstrungoutandhobbledincomparisontoheradversaries.From his command throne, Captain Ideon opened up his ship like a shattered hive of hornets,

releasingeveryweaponandwarshotatonce.About thebarge,spacebecameacloggedweboffireanddestruction,heathazeandspheresofdetonationfallingoffBellusinradiantwaves.“Report,”hedemanded,automatically turninghisattention toBrotherSolus’station,butSoluswasdead,heapedthereinamessofplasma-searedmeatandceramite.Thestinkofhumanfleshcametothecaptaininadozendifferentwaysthroughthesensesoftheship’smachine-spirit.Over the crashing din of secondary explosions, a sense-servitor babbled out a reply. “Multiple

criticalhitsalongstarboardhull.Breachesonfifty-twopercentofdecks.Enginseersreportimminentcollapseofthefusioncore’sspirit-monitor.”“Bow guns,” he roared, thrusting his consciousness through the cybernetic links in his skull to

touchthepowerfulship-killercannonsinBellus’sprow.TheservitoransweredevenasthequestionformedinIdeon’sthoughts.“Inoperative.Crewlossdue

toatmosphericventing.”Themind-wipedslavechatteredinaflatmonotone,asifitwerediscussingsomethingnomorevexingthanachangeinweather.Ideonglimpsed the raggedmetalwhere thebowofBellusused to be, the tide of fragments and

vacuum-bloated corpses streaming out into the black. Hate building inside him, the captain drewevery last piece of the ship’s offensive capability together and held it in his mind. His normallyimmobileformonthecontrolthronewasrockingbackandforth,twitchinglikeapalsyvictimfromtheforceofhisanger.Astrange,inhumannoisethreadedoutofhisvox-coder,thepeculiarululationcrossingthedinofthebridge.Ideonwillinglylethimselffallintothescreamingembraceoftheblackrage,hisminddisintegratingintothemadnessofracememoriesfromthousandsofyearspast.“Killthemall!”crackledthemetallicvoice.Europae’spatiencewasatanend,andwithunrestrainedforcesheopenedfirewitheveryweaponat

herdisposal,crossingtheorbitalrangetopunishBellusfortheperfidyofitscrewandMisericordeforthecrimeofdaringtosullytheEmperor ’sspace.Inturn,theChaoswarshipspathatebackattheBloodAngels,pouringitintothedarknessuntiltheemptinesswasthickwithradiation.Bellus laybetween them, strikingout at everything andnothing around it, amadwoundedbeast

alivewithpainandthesmellofdeath.Arkio’sflagshipwascaughtinthecrossfireofthebattleandfell into the hellstorm. In the absolute silence of the void, Bellus detonated, breaking into hugesplintersofsteel,herfusionreactorgivingbirthtoaninstantnewsun.Ontheplanetbelow,thelightofherdeathwaslostinthethickclouds.

Rafen’sthrusterpackrandrywhenhewasstillathirtymetresfromtheground,andhetumbledanddroppedasifheweremadeoflead.Slamminghisballedfistintothereleaseswitchonhisbelt,hefeltthedeadweightof thepackdetach,andfreedof theburdenhe turnedintoaspin,crashingthroughage-rottedbeamstolandwithabone-jarringcrackofsound.Aringofwaterscatteredawayfromhimin a ripple. From his kneeling stance, Rafen rose, his eyes narrowed against the bitingwinds. Hescannedtheinteriorofthechurch,afraidofwhathewouldsee.Andtherehesawit.Pinned to the stone as agigantic collectormight exhibit some raremothorbutterfly,Arkio lay

withtheSpearofTelestorunthroughhim.Allabouthissiblingwasaspreadingaurorathecolourofautumn,amostunearthlygolden light.Favouringhis injured leg,Rafen joggedacross the transeptandcametoArkio’sside.“Brother…”Rafengaspedinamazement;despitesobrutalaninjury,Arkiostillclungtolifewithfiercetenacity.

Hissibling’shandswereclaspedthehaftofthespear,theburningglowcrispingawaytheflesh.Arkioseemednottonoticethepain.“Brother,” Rafen repeated, searching his sibling’s face for the shroud of contamination. Arkio

seemedasruinedas theshattered landscapeof thecity-shrineabout them,hollowinside.Theblacktrainsofpoisonboilsstillseethedbeneathhismarbledskin,buthiseyes…hiseyesbelongedtotheArkiothatRafenrememberedfromtheiryouth,thenaiveandboldsoulthathadgivenhimstrengthandloyalty.Therewaspainthere,ofakindRafenhadonlyeverseenintheeyesofsinnersandturncoatsfallen

to the lawof the Inquisition.Before,hehadneverquestioned it,butnowhesaw it forwhat itwas.Regret,sopowerfulandsoheartbreakingthattheemotioncouldbarelybecontainedbyahumanwill.“WhathaveIdone?”Arkiorasped,holdinghisbrother ’sgaze.“Ihavebrokeneverycompactand

promise…IhaveturnedmybackonwhatIamandembracedthevoid…”Heshudderedandwailed.“Oh,LordEmperor,IhavebetrayedallIholddear.”Hishate-rageebbing,Rafenfoundonlyoneanswerintheechoingchasmsofhisheart.“Yes.”Thehummingof thespeargently roseandfell in the fadingrhythmofArkio’ssecondaryheart.

Eachpeakandtroughgrewlongeraslifeebbedfromhimintothestonesandtherain.“Iwasweak…”hemanaged.“IthoughtIcouldprotectmyselffromthis—”hegesturedfeeblyandhiswingsjerkedinresponse,“—fromfallingfromthepath.Myarrogance…I…IbelievedIwas…believedit…”“Iamsorry,Arkio.”Rafensaid,silenttearsfallingfromhiseyes,drawinglinesindarksmearsof

blood and soot on his cheeks. “I am sorry I was not there to stand with you, turn you from thiscorruption.”“No.”Arkiowhispered. “You share no burdenwithme, kinsman. Iwill bear this stigma…”He

shivered,adroolofbloodescapingfromhislips.“Myerror.Iwasweak…”“Arkio,no…Youwere…human.”Heforcedawansmile.“Fearnot,Rafen.Thisisourfate.Bothofussawit.”Rafengasped.“Youknewthiswouldbebymyhand?”“Yes. And so it was.” His ruined fingers crossed Rafen’s chest plate and touched his brother ’s

cheek.“Youweepforme?ThatisallIask,kinsman.TheEmperorwilldamnmeformyfolly,andIacceptthatwithoutquestion…Butyou…Iaskyoutoforgiveme.Irecant,Rafen.Pleaseforgiveme,mybrother.”“Iforgiveyou,Arkio.Onourfather ’sgrave,Iswearit.”Arkiogaveashallow,finalnodofthanks.“Thatismercyenough.”Hiseyesflutteredclosed,and

thespearfellsilent.

Rafenknelt there for anage,no sound inhis earsbut the rushand thunderof the rainstorm,nofeeling inside him except the raw despair of loss. Finally, his heart brimming with its grievousremorse,Rafencametohisfeetwithhisbrother ’sbodyinhisarms,theHolyLanceexcisedfromthedeadmanandthereatRafen’sshoulder.Thewarm,mellifluentlightofthespearilluminatedtherainsabouthim,andheheldArkiohigh.Heseemedtoweighsolittlenow,asiftheburdenofhistaintedchangehadrunawaywithhisshedblood.In the near distance, Rafen saw the firefly sparkles of bolter discharges, and on thewind came

gunshots, screams and the chants of the Word Bearers. The Blood Angel’s face set in grimdeterminationandheadvancedtowardthefighting.Heleftnothingbehindhimbuthisdoubts.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

Curious, thoughtMephiston,howthepassageof timebecameelastic in thethroesofconflict.Heskewered aWord Bearer and the helot soldier behind himwith one swift thrust of themindbladeVitarus,theforceswordimmolatingthembothingustsofblueflame.Flickingtheremainsaway,hefrowned. How long had he been fighting? Crashing thunder bellowed overhead, announcing theflashesofsheet lighting that illuminated thewrithingfighters in thesquare.Rainpeltedeverything,sluicingoffthebloodofenemyandallyalike,churningthebrickdustanddirtonthegroundintoamuddybrownquagmire. Itwasdifficult for theLibrarian toknowexactlyhow long thebattle hadbeen raging;everyswordblowandbolt shell seemed topass in itsownsmallbubbleof time,onesingleinstantinthehugecacophonyofwantonslaughter.Minutes,hours…itcouldhavebeendaysforall theLordofDeathcared.Hewasinhiselementhere,anengineofdestructionfuelledbytheholiestofcauses.He caught the sound of a man’s scream, suddenly truncated by the ripping of flesh and sinew.

Mephiston whirled to see the golden helmet of a Blood Angels honour guard—one of Arkio’sloyalists—sent flying by the blow of the veteran sergeant who had accompanied the pskyer fromEuropae.TheMarinestaggeredback,shakinggorefromthecloggedbladesofhischainsword.HecaughtMephiston’seyeandsparedhimagrimnod.TheLibrariandidnotneedtoemployhispsychicskillstoreadtheBloodAngel’smind.Thiswasa

sorry,dismalbusiness,beingforcedtotakeuparmsagainstmenwhowerebattle-brothers.TheLordofDeathwassickenedbywhatheandtheothershadbeenforcedinto,andhecursedArkioandSteleforbringingit topass.Itwasenoughtopurgethegalaxyof turncoatsandtraitors,but tofacemenwho hadwillingly forsaken their oath toDante andBaal in favour of some pretender childmadeMephistonwearyandhateful.ForeacherrantBloodAngelheslew,thepsykerspokeashortprayertotheGolden Throne. He did not forgive thesemen theirmisjudgements, instead he tallied them ascrimestolayatthefeetofRamiusStele,thearchitectofthismadness.Howeverfateunfoldedonthisday,MephistonvowedthattheaccursedHereticusfoolwouldnotleaveSabienalive.Thesergeantfellbackadozenstepsashereloadedhisbolter,beforefiringagainintothemassof

ragingzealots.“Bah!”hespat,takingthreemenwithpinpointheadshots.“Thesefoolsdon’tknowthemeaningoftheword‘retreat’.Wecutthemdownlikewheatandstilltheycome.”Mephistonstrodeforward,Vitarusending lives insweepsofbrightpower.“Thewheatdaresnot

oppose the scythe.”Foreveryoneof theWarriorsof theReborn trampled into themudandearth,thereweretwomorebehindhim,desperatefor thegloryofdeathintheirmessiah’sname—orjustloathsomeenoughnottocare.HereandtherehesawWordBearersintightlydrilledunits,andthosehecouldnotseeheheard,theirfouldemagoguesspoutingdirgesandsongsofunhallowedpraisetotheMaelstrom.TheChaosMarines tooktheirfuryto theBloodAngels,attackingMephiston’smenandArkio’sloyalistsalike,ignoringthehelotsunlessthehumanswerefoolishenoughtoblocktheirlinesoffire.“Redfoes,redfriends,”snappedtheveteran.“Whoistheenemyhere,lord?”“Everyone,” thepsyker replied,burningdownadozenmorewayward soulswithhis screeching

plasmapistol.“Thisisnotbattle,thisischaos.”Mephiston’s Techmarine thrust his way through the morass of dead and dying, stumbling into

ankle-deeppoolsoffluid.Hekilledahelotarmedonlywithasharpenedspanner,punchingthroughhisribcage,andthrewthedeadbodyaside.“Lord!”hecalledasheapproached.“LordMephiston.”Bolterfireincareful,targetedranksrangeddownonthemfromthemiddleoftheenemythrong,

whereWordBearersweremarshallingaconcertedeffort.TheLibrarianthrewbackthepoweroftheSmite,apsychictornadorippingacrossthesquaretodismemberthem.TheTechmarineblinkedawaytheafter-glareoftheblastandgaveajerkybow.“Mylord,wehave

but twoThunderhawksremainingandneithercanmake lift-off.TheWordBearershavesixsquadspinning themdown. I spottedHavoc troopers in their number, although theyhavenot attempted todestroythetransportsyet.”“Theywanttheshipsforthemselves.Whatnewsfromorbit?”Gunfire drew their attention and all three of them fired back at a group of helots armed with

civilian hunting lasers. “Communication is intermittent at best,” continued theBloodAngel. “Highlevelsofradiationintheionospherepreventclearvoxtransmissions.”“Radiation?”growledthesergeant.“Fromwhat?”“Bellushasbeendestroyed,lord,”theTechmarinesaiddispassionately.“Afragmentaryvoxfrom

Europaeappearstoconfirmthattheloyalist’sshipwasobliteratedinthecrossfirebetweenourbargeandtheMisericorde.”Mephistonshookhisheadangrily.“Suchwaste.Suchfoolish,pointlesswaste.”The Space Marine gestured with a signum, complex lines of data glyphs and warning runes

marching across the device’s rain-slick screen. “We are outnumbered on the ground. Forcedisposition of the loyalists is weak but they overmatch us with the reinforcements of the WordBearers.”Tohissurprise,theLordofDeathacceptedthisdireinformationwithaclinicalsmile;hewasunfazedbythesensor ’sdivination.Onthecontrary,heseemedtoexpectit.“WithBellusoutofthepicture,wecanforgetcallingreservesfromEuropae,”gratedthesergeant,

shakingrainoffhisvisor.“They’llhavetheirhandsfullwiththeChaosship,won’tevenbeabletorisk’portingusmoremen.We’reonourowndownhere.”“As it everwas.”Mephistonadded. “Sobe it.”Thepsyker toggleda control in thecollarofhis

arching hood and spoke into one of the bone-white skulls that decorated the throat of his armour,whereavox-unitwasconcealed.“BloodAngels,rally!”hesnapped,thecommandfilteringouttotheear-beads of everyman from theEuropae.Your previous orders to contain this rabble no longerapply.Jointhefrayandleavenofoestanding.”“Aye.Aye!”cametherepliesoverthechannel.Mephiston threw himself into the throng, leaving behind the hillock of rabble and stone he had

defendedtowadedeepinthegoreofhisadversaries.Heshowedsharpfangsandeyesoffireasdeathraineddownaroundhim,redfloodsofitflashingintheair.“TerraandGod-Emperor,”breathedtheveteran,ashewatchedtheLibrarianshredtheunwaryfoes.

“He’snotaman,he’sastormwithasword.”

Elsewhereinthemorass,thepell-mellmeleemovedandshiftedlikeaviralorganism,swallowingupthosethatdidnotgowiththearmy’sflow,killingthosethatdefiedit.Deloswadedthroughaseaofangry faces and weeping wounded, all of them merging into one pale orchestra of ghosts, eyesupturnedtothegreyragingsky,cryingtotheirBlessed.TheChaplainmovedamongthem,ablackshiningshadowwithagrinningskullhead.Theyflinchedandrecoiledfromhiscroziusashewaveditbeforehim,someofthemautomaticallygenuflectingtowardaniconofSanguinius,othershissinginpainasifthesightofithurttheireyes.A tinnyrattleabouthisheadannounced thepassageofametallicservo-skullandDelosknewhe

wasclose.There, justa fewlengthsaway, InquisitorStelestood inon thecrestofasubsidedstone

dais. At his feet, shivering under a wet, matted cloak, his lexmechanic rocked back and forth,constantly babbling a endless string of words in thousands of Imperial dialects. Delos caughtsomethingofhisspeechwhenthewindchangedforamoment,bringingittohisears.“—demnos,dannavik,dorius,delenz,dorcon,daemon,dethenex,dynikas—”Theinquisitor ’sservo-skullscontinuallydescribedalazyorbitaroundhim,occasionallypausing

tolancealaserboltintoatargettheydeemedathreattoStele.Thewomanwasthereaswell,nevermore thanahand’s length fromhim, the linesofher facehidingbeneathavoluminoushood.Thehabitsheworewascutlikeanastropath’s,butshewasanythingbutoneofthose.Deloswasnotcursedwiththewarpeyeofpsykersbuthedidn’tneedtobetosmellthestinkoftheempyreanonthegirl.Heshook the nauseating perfume of it from his head. Odd how he had never noticed that about herbefore.Grippinghiscroziusarcanumfirmly,Delosforcedhimselfuptothedais,hisskull-helmet’ssneer

matchingStele’s.“Inquisitor,”hedemanded.“BytheBlessed,Idemandyouaccountforyourself.”Stele arched an eyebrow. “Chaplain…Delos, isn’t it?”Hewiped a patina of rain from his bald

skull.“Leaveme.Imustprepare—”“Forwhat?”Delosshouted,startlinghimselfwithhisownforcefulness.“Tellmemyeyesdeceived

me,Stele!Tellmeitwasbutamind-trickofMephiston’s!”“Whattriviaareyouchatteringabout?”Steleretorted,hisattentionelsewhere.HeglancedatUlan.

“Theboy,theboy!Whereishe?”Thepsy-witchshookherhead,hermindfullofrazors.“Difficult….”“IsawyouandtheWordBearer.”Inablinkoflightning,DelossawsomethingshadowingStele’s

face;notawraithoraspirit,butahazeoflinescrossingandre-crossing.Eightarrowsarrangedinaring.“Itistrue,”Delossaid,“youconsortwiththecorrupted!”Stelegrimacedandfixedhimwithaglare.“FirstSachielandnowyou?Thisconflictistaxingme

toomuch.Thingsareslippingthroughthegaps—”“Traitor!”Delosroared,bringingupthecroziustostriketheinquisitor.“Betterthatthanafool.”SteleraisedahandandacolumnofpressureshovedDelosinthechest,

pushinghimback,knocking thepowerweaponfromhisgrip.Theairaroundhimbecamedryandgreasy,therainfizzingaway.InvisibletendrilsofpsychicforcecoiledabouttheChaplainandslippedthroughmolecule-thingapsinhisarmourtotouchhisbareskin.“Thetwistingpath.”Stelesaid,leeringatthekneelingBloodAngel.“Takethepath,Delos.Takeit.”Hismind flayed open andDelos screamed, clawing at his helmet, tearing it fromhis head.The

Chaplainsawhisworldfallapartaroundhim;hewatchedamirrorofhislifetocomeashetoreoffhisallegiance to theEmperor (Iwouldneverdosucha thing!)asheslaughteredDanteandburnedBaal’scities(No!No!Thisisnottrue!)ashefell,laughingwithcruelabandon,intotheembraceofChaos(No!).Stele broke off the mental assault and spat on his twitching victim. “Never question me,” he

growled. The inquisitor grabbed at Ulan’s arm, pulling her to him. “I won’t ask again!Where isArkio?”“Dead.”Shedrewthewordoutintoahowl.The inquisitor ’s facewent purplewith rage.His jawworked but nowords came to him.Anger

robbedhimof a voice, and insteadhe struckoutwith a balled fist, back-handing thepsyker-slave.Ulanstumbledanddroppedtoherknees,thehoodaboutherheadfallingtohershoulders.Herpaleand hairless patewith its tarnished brass sockets glittered dully.Overhead, the silver skull dronespoppedintinyexplosions.Stelegaveanincoherentroarofannoyance,themusclesinhisneckbunchingintenseropes.“That

worthless, stupid fool. It wasn’t enough that he could accept the gifts I gave him, he had to bury

himselfinthepart.”Hepulledattheskinofhisface,barelyabletocontainthequakingrageinsidehim. “All of it ruined by that pathetic whelp. My plans are ashes now, my greatest performancedestroyedbyhisarrogance!”“But…butthatwaswhyyouchosehim…”Ulanspatoutbloodandabrokenpieceoftooth.“You

wantedamanwhocouldbeSanguinius—”“Iwantedafigurehead,”snarledStele,“Agaudytokenmessiah,notacorpse.”Ulanshakilygottoherfeet.“Perhapshegaveyouamartyrinstead…”“Martyr…”Thewordwhisperedthroughtheinquisitor ’slips,abenediction,coolinghisburning

ire.“Iwillnot failnow,understandme?”hegrowled.“Notnow,not in themomentofmygreatesttriumph.IhavemadeitmydesigntoturntheseAstartesfreakstotheBannerofChangeandIwillnotbedenied!”Stelestrippedthegrox-hidebattlecoatfromhisshouldersanddashedthegarmentontheground,dragginghisornatelaspistolfromitsconcealedholster.“Plansmustbeaccelerated,”hesaid.“Theturningcannotwait!Itmustbehereandnow!”“Butwearenotready.”HeignoredUlan’swarningandpressedthemuzzleofhisguntothepalmofhisotherhand.“Open

yourmindtotheSpiteLord,witch.Bringhim.Bringhimnow!”Stelejerkedthetriggerandthepistolblewaburningholethroughhisflesh,vaporisingthreeofhis

fingersandsettinghiscuffaflame.Theinquisitorscreamedandclutchedathisruinedhand,forcingthejettingbloodfromhisseveredveinstospatterabouthiminthesacredpatternheknewbyheart.Thegeometryoftheunhallowedcirclecametogetherevenashedrewit.Ulanhesitated.StelehadinstructedherontheritualsthatwouldopentheconduittotheMalfallax’s

realm,butnowthemomentcame todo it she foundherselfafraid.Thepsy-witchhadbeenaslavesincebirth,alaboratoryexperimentbeforethat,anddisobediencewasnotpartofhermakeup,yetstillshebalkedatthismostdangerouscommand.Steleturnedonherandsawtheindecisioninhereyes.The inquisitor snarled andgrabbedher robes, draggingher close to him.Thebloodymeat of hishandclutchedatherneck.Shefeltwarmfluidspulsingoverherskin.“Lord,no…”Shemanagedaweakdenial.“Opentheway.”Steleshouted,andwithathrustofhisarm,thelaceratedfingerssankintotheflesh

atUlan’scollar.ThepallidskinrippledlikewaterandStelemergedhisbarbeddigitsintoherboneandcartilage.Thewomanresisted,forwhatwouldbethefirstandlasttimeinherlife.Itmadelittledifference,astheinquisitorbroughthisundamagedfingerstohercheeks,thetipsscrapingawaythefalsescarsthathidtheblemishesofpsy-tunedmetalcontacts.Ulancouldnotscream;shecouldnotbreathe;shecouldonlyholdonandtrynottodieasSteleusedherasalensforhisownpsykertalent,magnifyinghisblackwilltocutawayintothewrithingcoreoftheEyeofTerror.

Inside the no-space of the immaterium, the creature Malfallax had been waiting, floating andcirclingtheman-filthSteleinthemannerofaseapredatorscentingpreyindistress.Unseenbythedenizensof thematerialworld, the realmof thewarpwasconstantly surrounding them,a layerofunrealitylaidacrossthesordid,crudematteroftheirwastrelworlds.Theformsthelive-thingscalledChaos,intheirlimitedlittlewaysofperceivingtheomni-verse,swarmedandthrivedinthisinfiniteoceanofmind and emotion.ThedaemonmovedwithStele.Waiting,waiting andwatching for themomentwhen the thrashingandchatteringof thequarrywasat itspeak.Only thenwould it strike,lappinguptheabsoluteperfectionofitsfear,sinkinginrendingteeth,tearingittosoul-shreds.Nowthepreycalledtohim,throughtheconduitofthemutantabortioncreatedbythecorpse-god’s

science.HisinstrumentStelecriedoutforthepoisonedhandofMalfallax.Thewarpdaemonteaseditselfwith the anticipation of the shift; itwas so infrequent that the beast could find itself a vesselstrongenoughtocontainitsessenceformorethanafewhours.Mostflesh-thingsintheotherreality

weregossamerconstructsofwet,weakmeats.TheywouldburnorinflateorexplodeiftheMalfallaxissued even an iota of itself into them—but it hadworked hard to prepare for this day.Malfallax,MonarchofSpite,HeirophantofVicissitude,waswearyofpartialmanifestations,ofanimating theinertorthemindlesstoholdaghostofhisfullandawfulpotential.Itwantedtostepfreelyintotheplaneofmenandrunitredwiththeirbloodyterror.Malfallaxmissedthefeelofitovertherebeyondtheveil;itwastimetoreturn.

The scream thatUlan releasedwas a sound that no human throat had evermade before. It rangfromside tosideof thecitysquare,souring thedeadenedskyofSabienas itpassed,hammeringachillspikeofterrorintoeverylifethatcaughttheechoofit.Stelewithdrewfromtheshakingbodyofthepsy-witch,theoozingbloodfromhisshatteredhandwrappedabouthisforearmlikearedglove.Mad laughter bubbled up from inside him. “He comes!” shouted the inquisitor, the insanemix ofelationandutterdreadmerginginhischest.Stelespreadhisarmsinwelcomeasthespiltbloodandmudinsidetheceremonialcirclebubbledandchurned.“Cometome,Void-born!Takeformandheedme.”The black-brown sludge at his feet rippled and built up upon itself, assembling the shape of a

hulkingfigure.ItgrewsomethingresemblingafaceandpointeditaStele,hotcopperybreathissuingfromthesteamingorifices.“Ssssssssservant.”Ulancouldnotseeforthebloodstreamingfromthebrassplugsinherskullorweepingintears

fromears,noseandeyes,butsheknewwherethecreaturewas.Theblazingpowerofitsnovaheartburnedintohermind-senses.Ulanstruggledtostumbleaway,whatrationalityshestillhadlostinaprimitivedesiretoflee.“Come, daemon,” Stele cried out to themud-form. “Bearwitnesswithme to this victory. Take

shapeandreleasetheWayofChange.TheBloodAngelswillturntothegloryofTzeentch,theywillknowandreverehimasIhavealwaysdone.”Hestabbedhisruinedhandattheshakingwoman.“Fillthisvesselandcomeforth!”Ulantrippedandfell,themudsuckingather,holdingherdown.Sheshookherheadinsomefeeble

gestureofrefusal.“No.”Thevoicewasslimeoncoldrock.Theslurryoflivingmireflashedforwardinawetsurge,

butnottowardUlan.ItroseuparoundStele’slegsandrootedhimtothespot,coilingabouthimlikeliquidsnakes,fillinghisclothing.Theinquisitortriedtoscream,butasheopenedhismouththeblood-masspouredinoverhislips

and drowned him in thick ooze.Your reward comes now, said theMalfallax, each word a psionichammerblow,notlordshipofthesemen-prey,notrichesandpowersasyouwerepromised.Youwillknowthegloryofme.Youshallcarrymyessence,becomemymountandflesh-proxy…UlanfeltStele’sterrible,silentscreamsasthedaemonforceditselfintotheinquisitor,turningthe

manintotheunwillingvesselforitsbloatedpsychicsubstance.Asmuchasshehatedthemalignantblackguard,shefoundasparkofpityforthemanashewassubsumedinsidehisdaemonlord’sself.Betrayalandanger,fearandterrorsosweetthattheycloggedherthroatwiththebackwashoftheirtaste;theemotionsfloodedoutofthetwistingbagofskin.Thecreaturedeniedhispuppetthechancetoframehisfeelingsashedied,tearingunderstandingfromStele’smind.Hewasnothingbutcarrionforitnow:hisplanswereMalfallax’splans,hisgrandschemestinypuzzlesintheSpiteLord’sroundsofparlouramusement.AndsoonlyUlantrulywitnessedthedeathofInquisitorRamiusStele,ofhisfleshandhissinew,of

hismindandhissoul.Shehearditripthroughtheetherandcatchherinitsrazoredwake.Thepsy-witchgibberedandwept,ruinedbyherproximitytoit.Thedaemonstretchedatthemeatsurroundingit,andwithslowandpurposefulmotionitunleashed

thewayofmutationuponitsneworganicshell.Spewingoutthedeadmudthathadbrieflycontainedit,Malfallaxadoptedtheunhallowedaspectthatallhiskindredworeasthemarkoftheirfealtytotheeightfold way. Stele’s bones shifted like putty, hollowing and distending. The pallid human fleshglittered and took on amultihued riot of colours, flashing rainbows as sunlight caught through aprism. The face pressed forward against itself, becoming a hooked beak with deep-sunk eye pitsburningwith ruin.Gossamer feathersburst from the remnantsof theHereticusuniform, andgreatscarredwingsshookloosefromtheprisonoftheskin.Hooksandtalonsdressedthecreatureanditgavealong,languidyawn.Staringoutatthehumanworldfrominsideitsnewsheathofmatter,theLordofChangeglancedat

the cowering Ulan and decided it was hungry. Black-barbed claws caught the psyker woman in apincergripandbroughthertothewickedbeak,asawarpedvoicebayedforfresh,newblood.Malfallaxatethismealandstudiedthemadwarrangedaboutit,consideringwhereitwouldbegin.

Deloslookedon,appalled.Atfirst,theclerichadthoughtitwasmoreofthemind-trickthatStelehadturneduponhim,butthestinkoftheshifting,sinuousbeasttoldhissensesthatthismonstrositywasasrealasthehammeringrainandthecoldmud.Hiscroziuswasgone,lostandbroken,buthestillhadhisbolterandhisblade.Delosdrewboth,runninghisfingersoverthelitanyinscribedontheframeofhisweapon.HecametothelastetchingwherehehadtranscribedhisoathtoArkio.“Allliesnow?”heaskedtherushingskiesabove.“HaveIdamnedmyself?”TherewouldbenomoreforDelostoinscribeaftertoday.TheChaplainblinkedrainwaterfromhis

eyesandleaptatthedaemon,callingoutthenameofhisprimarch.Malfallaxcockeditsheadinaquizzicalgestureandturnedtopresentitselftothefigureinblack.It

stoodonsomethingwetandbreakable,hotliquidspurtingaboutitsclawedfeet.Thedaemonglanceddown,shakingoffthebloodandorgan-matter.Stele’slexmechanichadbeentooslowtogetoutoftheway,andnowthespeaker-slavewasapasteofbonesandmetalsinthemud.Delos’shotsfoundpurchaseinthebeast’shideandMalfallaxswallowedthepainofthemlikerare

sweetmeats.Thedaemoncurleda talonedfingerat theChaplainandspokeawordofblasphemouspower.Ariftopenedlikeabloodywoundbeforehishandandastreakofrose-colouredfire jettedforth,engulfingDelos.Theclericwailedasthepinkflamessurroundedandclungtohim,burningthroughhissablepower

armour.TheLordofChangelefthimscreaminganddyingthereinthemudandstrodeaway,lookingformoreprey.Malfallaxreachedintoasuckingvoidinitschest,itshanddisappearingtothewrist.Itreturnedwithahilt in itsgrasp,andwithslowandcarefulmotions thedaemonwithdrewanedgedweaponmadefromdeadmen’sbonesandsoliddelusion.The humans had a name for such a sword—they called themwarp blades, semi-real constructs

existinghalf-in andhalf-outof the empyrean, raw funnelsofmindformwoven intokillingblades.MalfallaxtestedtheChaosweaponinitsgrip,feelingtheweightofit,judgingthereach.Satisfied,itdrewuptheswordandplungeditintoamassoffleeingslavetroopers,liquefyingtheirbodieswiththespeedofitspassage.Thebladerippledandgaspedinpleasure.

“Emperorpreserveus,”hissedthesergeant.“Itmakesmeretchjusttolayeyesuponit…”“Whatmannerofthingisit?”addedtheTechmarine.“Tzeentch-spawn,”Mephiston replied.The psyker felt the edges of the agony-sphere cast by the

warpblade,andhiseyescouldnotfocusontheblurringshapeofthesword,hisvisionslippingofftheunholygeometryofit.“ALordofChange.”Hetappedtheskullmedallionathisthroatandspatoutanorder.“Regroup.Concentratefireonthecreature—”TheBloodAngelscommandsweresilencedbyascreamingcrashofsoundfromthemassofthe

enemyforce.Thedaemonlorddrewarcanerunesintheairandunleashedafloodofcoldfireacrossthesquare.Mencaughtinthewhitecoreoftheflameswereinstantlyturnedtovapour,disappearingintoash.Thoseontheedgesoftheblastcaughtfireandstumbledabout,blindandmadwithpain;theonesontheperipherybecamecursedwiththefalloutofmutation,spontaneouslygrowingnewlimbs,burstingoutoftheirwargearorimploding.Mephistonsawseveralmenturntheirownweaponsonthemselvesratherthanaccedetotherevisionoftheirthrobbingflesh.SpaceMarinesdiedonthetipofthemonster ’sten-metresword,addingtheircrimsontotheankle-

deepbloodswamp.Thewarpbladeleftbrieftearsinthefabricofspacewhereitpassed,andthingsemergedfromthehole,chatteringwithhunger.Saucer-shapedanddrippingwithtoxiccilia,thedisc-likewarpfreaksfellontheinjuredandthedyinglikevultures.Emboldened by their new ally, theWordBearers flooded forward, shoving aside or killing the

hesitantloyalistMarines.MephistonmetthemwithVitarussingingdeath,beheadingandbifurcating,his plasma pistol hissing hotwith discharge.The traitorsmet steel and died, but for the first timesincehehadarrivedonSabien,theLordofDeathtookastepbackasthepressoftheenemyturnedtightlikearubyvice.

“The eye of a hurricane,”murmured Turcio, “we are caught in a storm.”He fired again at thegaggleofWordBearersthatsnipedatthemfromtheremainsofasmoulderingThunderhawk,firingpasthelotsoldierswhoseemedoblivioustothecrossfirepassingthroughtheirnumbers.HeduckedtoreloadandBrotherCorvustookhisplace,pacinghisshots.“Bymylife…Theconfusion…Whatarewedoinghere?”“Surviving.”Corvusretorted,killingaWordBearerwithaheadshot.“Weareworthnothingifwe

die.”“ButtheBlessed…whereishe?HasArkiodesertedus?”“No!”Corvussnappedbackathisbattle-brother,butintruththesamefearfilledhismindaswell.

“He…hemustbefightingelsewhere.”“Where?”Turciodemanded, comingup to join the conflict oncemore. “This dayhad turned to

madness.Ourhatedenemiesarisefromnowhere,daemonstakeshapefromnothing…Arkioisgoneandwe are fighting everything thatmoves.”He grabbedCorvus’ arm and looked him the face. “Idon’tknowwhatIamanymore!BloodAngel?WarrioroftheBlessed?Traitororloyalist?There’snothingbutdeathhere,noanswers—”Bolt-fire from the Chaos lines chewed off a chunk of their cover and both Marines threw

themselves aside as lascannon shots followed through. Turcio rolled over in the mud and foundhimself staringupat thesky, theendlesscurtainofgrey rainpelting them.Misgivingscloudedhismind. Suddenly it seemed like everything that had happened since Cybele was being called inquestion.“Sanguiniuspreserveme,whatisourfatetobe?”“Look.” Corvus pointed toward the gutted tower of a long-fallen cathedral, one of only a few

structuresthatstillstoodabovegroundlevel.Therewasahumanfigureupthereonthestonecanopy,atopabrokengargoyle.Lightinggavehimformandcolour—aBloodAngel,andinhisarmsamessofgoldenshapes,palefleshandwhitefeathers.

Rafenlookeddownonthebattlefieldandfilledhislungswithbreathsofwet,metallicair.Whenhespoke, his voice carried on the wind, echoing through the vox channels of every Astartes on theground.“BloodAngels!” he cried. “Sons of Baal, hearme. The lie has been dispelled, our twisted fate

undone.Knowthis,brothers.Wehavebeenbetrayed!”Theconflictragedon,butRafen’svoicestillreachedeverycornerofthefight,eventhehelotsand

the enemy turning to cast an ear toward him. “All of us hold the blood of Sanguinius inside ourhearts.”Rafencalled.“EverymanofusisthePureOneinsomesmallcornerofhissoul…Butourprimogenitor,ourlordandfounder…Heliesdead!”Thewordthunderedacrossthesky.“Sanguiniusisashes,millenniagone,nobones,noheart,onlyblood!SanguiniusdiedatthehandsofhatedHorus,heperishedatthebladeofChaos!”AngryhowlsbubbledupfromthethroatsofalltheBloodAngels,toamanallofthemstirredto

violencebythestarktruthofRafen’sstatement.“Andnowthearchfoeseekstoturnusall,todragustotheirblasphemybyafalseidol…”Heheld

up Arkio’s body, high above the throng. “See. Look at what has been done! My blood kinsman,mutatedandwarpedbythehandofatraitor…”Rafen’svoicewaschokedwithemotion.“TheymadehimthinkhewasthePureOneReborn…Theymadeusbelieve.Buthewascorrupted,poisonedbythepawnStele!Thedaemonthatwalksamongyoudidthis,sowewouldfollowblindly,blindlyintotheabyss.”AchorusofdenialscameuptoRafenonthewind,anguishedrefusalsfrommenwhonowsawthe

lietheyhadgrantedtheirfealtyto.“Seethetruth!”Rafenscreamed.“Seemybrotherfall.”HetippedArkio’scorpseovertheedgeand

letgravitytakethewingedbodyfromhim.Inamomentofterriblesilence,onlytherainspokeasthedeadman tumbled endover end, ruinedwings flapping, to land in a brokenheapon the cathedralsteps.

TurcioscrambledtothebodyandturnedArkio’sfacetohis.Herecoiledwithhorrorandstumbledaway.“Whatdoyousee?”Corvusasked,hisheartstightinhischest.“Ruin.” Turcio said in a dead voice. “Ruin and damnation. Our messiah is black with untruth,

brother…Rafendoesnotlie.”

“Arkioisdead!”camethecryfromthetower.“Mybrotherperishedforthismendacityanditdieswithhim!”RafendrewuptheSpearofTelestoandlettheweapon’sgoldenlighthazetheskyaroundhim. “By the Holy Lance, reject your flawed allegiance to Arkio and remember the true lord,Sanguinius.”Hepointedtheweaponintothemeleeandfeltitturnhotwithwillingpower.“Seethefoeamongyouanddestroythem.”

On the steps,Turcio stoodback and called to the sky. “Aye.Aye.I renounce theReborn. I am aBloodAngel!”Thebattle-brother leaptoff thecrackedstonesandthrewhimself intothehelotsandtraitors.“FortheEmperorandSanguinius!”Corvusyelledthesameoathandfollowedhimandacrossthesquare,Arkio’s loyalists threwoff

theirmisguided devotion, the burning power of the spear tearing the shroud of Chaos’ confusionfromtheirminds.

Malfallax’s anger pierced the Warmaster ’s mind like a white-hot arrow, the thread of psychiccommunionbetweenthemsostrongitkilledtwolesserWordBearersbesidetheWitchPrince.“Garand!Theman-filth’sridiculouscatspawiscoldmeat!Youpromisedmethiselaboratecharade

wouldbeasuccess!”TheWord Bearers commander glanced in the direction of the shambling Lord of Change, far

acrossthebattle,andbowed.“ThefoolStele,greatheirophant.Itriedtocontrolhisscheming,buthisvanitywashisundoing.”“Ihaveconsumedhisflesh,”saidMalfallax.“Iknowhisgoals.Thisdaymaystillbewonbyus,and

wemaystillturntheBloodAngelsforourmaster ’spleasure.”“Forgiveme,excellence,buthow?Withtheboydead,theseBloodWhelpswillnotfollowusinto

darkness.”Psychiclaughterbatteredathissenses.“Youseeonlythebattletohand,Garand.Thereisanother

way.”RealisationfloodedintotheWarmaster.“TheFlaw.Thegene-curseoftheBaalites.”“Yessss,” murmured the daemon. “I tasted it on Cybele through my bound psy-slaves.We will

conjureitfromthesefoolsandletitconsumethem—andwhentheyaredeepwithintheblackrage,Iwill leadthemtoawellofbloodthelikesofwhichtheywillneverescape, to theveryheartof theMaelstromitself.”Garandnodded,awedbythedaringofit.“Yourglory,LordMalfallax.”

TheymadewayasRafenwalkedfromthecathedral’sinteriortotheplacewhereArkio’sbodylay.Inhismailedfist,thespearglowedasithadthatdayontheBellus,whenthelightoftheprimogenitorhadtouchedeverysoulaboard.Gently,hecurledthebrokenwingsaroundhissibling’scorpseinadeathshroud,whileMephiston’smenlookedoninsilence.Rafen rose to find the Chief Librarian at his side. The Lord of Death proffered a thick glass

injectorinhishand.“Yourwoundsaresevere,brother,”saidMephiston.“Takethis.Corbulohimselfgaveittome.Itwilllendyouthestrengthofthelords.”Hegathereduptheexsanguinatorandturneditinhisfingers.Thick,heavybloodglistenedinside

it, drawn from the highest SanguinaryPriest of theBloodAngelsChapter.Once this bloodmixedwithRafen’sown,theessenceofSanguiniuswouldflowevenstrongerinhisveins.Mephistonnoddedatthedeadman.“Thetimehascometoavengehim.”“Ithas,”agreedRafen,andwithonesinglesweepingmotion,heplungedtheneedleintohischest

andemptieditscontentsintohisheart.

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

ForhundredsofyearsthelandscapeoftheshrineworldSabienhadbeensilentofhumanvoices,thedesolateruinsspeakingonlywiththemournfulwindsthatchaseddustandrainthroughthestreetsandopenspaces.Initsownway,SabienwasamournfultwintotheplanetCybele,asisterspherelightyearsdistanttowardthecorewardmarchesofthegalaxy.Bothworldsweremarkersforthedead,andbothhadruncrimsonwiththelifeofbothAstartesandtraitors.Fate,ifsuchathingexisted,hadcastacircular path forRafen and his brethren to follow.Their journey into darkness had begun amongtombstonesandmemorials,andhereandnowitwouldendamongthesame.SabienhadknowntheunbridledpassionandfuryoftheSonsofSanguiniusallthosecenturiesago,

when the long-since dead had fought and perished in order to hold this planet against the legionenemiesoftheGod-Emperor.Thatpowerhadcomeagaintothesilentworld,raisingupagainstthethunderofthestormcloudsinabrillianttideofvirtuousmalevolence.TheBloodAngelsdidnotsimplyattack,theydetonatedacrossthewarzoneinawaveofunfettered

rage,aredtideofmenplungingintothelinesoftheWordBearersandthemaddenedhelotsoldiers.They rushed to the fight, rejecting the relative safety of a stand-off battle, throwing caution to thewindinshatteringchantsandwarcries.TheunholyhymnsoftheChaosMarinesweredrownedoutbythelustyroarsoftheiropponents,andthenbythemassivecrashofthetwoforcesmeetinglikeahammeronananvil.Metalonmetal,chainswordagainstceramite,bolterstrikingflesh, thehissingsnapoflaserfire—andthescreaming.Thehorrible,heart-chillingscreaming.Allofitcametogetherin an orchestra of unchainedwar. The earth quaked beneath the awesome release ofmayhem anddestruction.TheBloodAngelshadreturnedtoSabien,andacrimsonhellcamestridingwiththem.

Onlyinthecrucibleofclosecombatcouldamantrulyunderstandthemeasureofhimself.Itwasnothingtostandaside,inthecockpitofafighterorbehindthebarrelofarangedcannon,topressabuttonandwatchadistantfoevanishinapuffofsmoke.HowcouldaSpaceMarineeverknowthecolourofhisheartunlesshestoodtoe to toewithhismosthatedenemyandtooktheir lifeas theylookedhimintheeyes?Whattruthwasstrongerthanthefinalmomentofreckoning,whenweaponmatchedweaponandthepulseofshedbloodsangitssymphony?Mephistonknewthis;itwasthegreatestgloryoftheLordofDeath’sexistencetocasttheaberrant

andthereviledintoshreds.HewasattheverytipofthearrowofredceramitethatmarkedtheBloodAngelsadvance,slashingthroughthelinesofWordBearersandthehelotswhodaredtoassaulttheMarinesthattoweredoverthem.Thepsykerkilledaman,acommonerwhosemindhadbeenaddledbytheChaosdemagogues,killedhimwithalookfromhisflinty,iron-hardeyes.Theover-spillofMephiston’sQuickeningbrushedtheerrantfoolandstoppedhisheart,burstingbloodvesselsallovertheslavetrooper ’srough-hewnrobes.Thehotfluidspatteredthepsyker ’smuscularbodyarmouranddropletsfoundtheirwaytohischeeks.Mephistonwipedthemfromhispale,sallowfaceandlickedthe blood from his fingers. It was themost perfect wine, a lustrous red vintage filledwith headyadrenaline. The BloodAngel’s fangs drew out over his thin lips. Hewas suddenly filledwith theanticipationofmore,more,more!HethrewasidethedeadmanandcutwetstreaksthroughaWordBearersHavoctrooper,bisectingthebarrelofthelascannonheheldandcuttingintothepallidwhite

meatoftheenemyMarine’sneck.Theforcesword’sdownwardfalldidnotendthere,bluelightningclashingandspittingintothebody,severingitintounequalchunks.Blackliquidsissuedupfromthegapingvoidshe cut in thick,oily fountains.Thiswas analtogetherdifferentdraught, rawwith thepollutionofathousandyears,stinkingandputrid.Toletsuchalibationtouchhislips…TheveryideamadeMephistonill.Acrossthefallingcorpseoftheruby-armouredtraitorcamemoreoftheWarriorsoftheReborn.

All of themwere throwingoff their loyalty toArkio now that thewingedgolden figure had beenshowndead,theirweaklittlemindsturningtotheeightfoldwayastheirnewsaviour.Sopatheticanddesperate,theywere.MephistonshoutedahatecryatthemandstruckoutwithVitarus.Heheldaspecialplaceintherage

hecarriedforthefeebleofdevotionandthecowardly;thesewretchedmundaneswerethricedamnedin the eyes of the Lord of Death. They had allowed their world to be soured by aWord Bearersinvasion,theyhadlackedeventhestrengthofcharactertostaytruetotheEmperor ’slightwhenStelehadbroughtArkioforthasanerstwhilemessiah,andnowtheyrangladlyintotheembraceofChaoswhenthatliewasshowntothem.TheseShenlongirabblewerelikebrokenchildren,beatensooftenbyviciousparentsthattheyhadcometobelievethatitwasasignoflove.Anothermanmighthavefoundpityfortheminhisheart,butbothofMephiston’swerefilledtothebrimwithonlyvehemence.Hekilledthemall,cuttingandslashingwiththesword,takingupthosethatdidnotrunfromhimwithhisfreehandtoriptheirthroatsfromtheirnecks.Hedrankfromtheirveinstofeedthepredator-selfinsidehim.Inhisfrenzy,thepsykerglimpsedhisbrotherSpaceMarinesdoingthesame,rendingandtearing,

burningdownthesoldiersofChaoswheretheystoodandtakingthehot,frothingbloodfromtheirscreaming lackeys.AdarkandpotentmiasmaenvelopedMephiston,cloudinghis reasonevenas itthickened his wrath. He felt the red thirst beckoning him, opening up to flood the battle with itscrimsonmist.Theblackragewaswellingupwithinhim,boilingandfurious,andtheBloodAngelswarlordtippedbackhisheadandroaredwithlaughter.Mephistonembracedit.

Theremainsof thehalf-eatencorpse twisted throughtheairandlandedinaheavyheapnear thebaseof thebombcraterwhereTurcioandCorvuswereboggeddown.Corvusshrankback,pacingshotsfromhisbolter,barelyglancingatthebody.Turcio’sgutknottedasheexaminedthedeadman.Like the carapace of some exotic shellfish, theBloodAngel’s armour had been cracked open andpeeledbacktorevealthemeatyinnardsitprotected.Aslurryofmoltenboneandliquefiedorganmeatoozedfromtheholeswherearmsandaheadwouldhavebeen.Therewerelicksofglutinousspittleandteethmarksfromwherethebodyhadbeenturnedintoafoodmorsel.Awet belch of blood turned Turcio’s attention up to the lip of the crater and there he saw the

bloatedshapeof theMalfallax. Iteyedhim,spittingoutan intacthumanfemur fromthesideof itswide mouth with callous disdain. The newly assimilated flesh of the deadMarine bubbled to thesurface of the creature’s body,merging into the panoply of glittering skins. The Lord of Changemovedlikeoiloverwater,stagnantrainbowhuesshimmeringhypnotically.Turcioblinkedfuriouslytoshakeoffthemesmericallure.Malfallaxpickedatthegroveofsickleteethinitsmutantmouth.“Stringy,”itsaid,sniffingatthe

discardedcorpse.“Oldandtasteless.”ThebeastwinkedatTurcio.“You’llbeabettercatch.”TheBloodAngelrefusedtogracethehellspawnwitheventhemostinsultingofripostesandshotat

itinstead,hisbolterhammeringinhishands.Malfallaxgrowledandspatasacoupleofluckyshotshithome.Itmovedwithunnaturalgrace,flowingthroughtheairratherthansimplysteppingthroughit,glitteringthroughtheconstantrodsofraininaweavingdance.“Stele!”spatCorvus,suddenlyrecognisingsomevagueaspectoftheinquisitorstillapparentinthe

corpse-skinwornbythedaemon.“Youtookhim.”“Hewantedit,”retortedthecreature,slappingasideafallenmetalstanchion.“Theimbeciledesired

toknow thewarp…andmykinare thewarpmade flesh.” Itpluckedat the stretchedskinabout itsface,flappinglikegrotesquewattles.TurcioandCorvusreactedwithoutthinking,layingdowncorridorsofconcentratedfiretopinthe

monstrousbeastbetweenthem,butthedaemonwhoopedwithwryamusementandletthebatwingsatitsbackliftitclear.Theybracketeditwithshots,butagainMalfallaxshiftedandmergedintotherain,alwaysappearingat exactly thepointwhere thebolt-roundswerenot.There in itsbreastglowedagreenovalwith a yellowdisc in its centre; a boon from its god, theEyeofTzeentchgrew like alivingelectro-tattoo,andthroughit thecreatureglimpsedameasureoftheskeinoftime.Malfallaxsawenoughoffate’scomplexweavetoknowwheretheSpaceMarineswouldshoot,veeringhereandtheretoavoidtheburningbullets.Itwaslikefiringatsmoke.Turcio’sgunrandryandhetwistedtowardscover,butthebeastwasalreadytherewithunfolding

talonsasbigastheclawsofafirescorpion.Itbattedhimwiththebluntofthenails,knockingTurciointo his battle-brother and throwing them both down into ankle-deepmire.Malfallax hooted withdelight and clapped its hands together, a disturbingly human gesture for something so alien. Thedaemon could have easily struckwith a killing blow, tearingTurcio open and eating him, but thatwouldhavebeentooquick,itwouldhavelackedfinesse.Malfallaxlovedthesensuousfeelingofitsnewfleshhuskand itwanted to revel in itsplayas longas itcould. Itopenedanumberofmouthsacross thescarredfaceandtorso,andallof themspokewith thesamearrogantandchillingvoice.“Whereisyourangelnow,man-prey?”itmocked.“Here!”shoutedRafen, lightning framinghim ina floodofblue-whiteat thecrater ’sedge.The

MarinepointedtheHolyLancewithoneoutstretchedhand.Fromthe tipran thickstreamsofWordBearersblood,andthehaftwassteamingasitburntoutthetaintofthedozensofChaosdeadithadalreadyclaimed.MalfallaxspiedtheSpearofTelestoandletfreeanatonalshriek.Eventheproximityofthehallowedarcheotechdevicewasenoughtoenragethedaemon.“Youdeniedmethechancetobringmyrevengetoyourlackey,warpscum,”hehissed,“soIwill

grantittoyouinkind.”Rafentwirledthespearabovehisheadandleaptintotheair,turninghimselfintoanarrowaimedatthearchfiend’sbeatingblackheart.Malfallax’sclawedtaloncameuptoprotectitselfwiththespeedofastrikingshellsnake,catching

thehaftof the lanceas it fell towardhischest.ThecarvingsofSanguiniuscut into its fingers,butRafen’s headlong flight ended with an abrupt jerk, shaking his bones. The spear pressed forwardagainstthedaemon’sgrip,readytopenetratethemutantskin;thecreatureheldon.RafentwistedtheweaponandthetipoftheteardropbladescarredthesacredeyebrandedonMalfallax’schest.TheEyeofTzeentchweptpinkliquidandpoppedlikeaburstblister,drawingamurderoushowl

fromthedaemon.Ignoringtheburningagonyfromitsownflesh,Malfallaxgrippedthelancehardandshookthegoldenrod.BeforeRafencouldevenletgoofhisgrip,theLordofChangehadusedittoslamhimintothemud.TheSpearofTelestostunghimwithgoldfireforhisviciousnessandthedaemonscreechedagain,tossingtheholyweaponawayintothequagmire.Rafenscrambledafteritasthebeastmewed,lickingpitifullyatthecrispedruinwhereitshandhadbeen.Turciofumbledhislastclipofammunitionintohisbolter ’sgapingslotandturnedthemuzzleon

themonster. ItsattentiondistractedbyRafen, itpresentedanunprotectedflankto theSpaceMarine,andtheblindedbrandrobbedthecreatureofitssecondsight.Hotboltsstitchedblossomsofbrackishbloodwherethehitsfoundtheirmarks.Necroticskinpeeledfromyellowedbones,embrittledbytherapidmutationforcedonthem,andloopsofgreyintestineemergedfromwhathadoncebeenRamiusStele’sabdomen.Malfallaxtwitchedandflashedforward,instinctivelyhominginonthesourceofthenewpain.Pink

fireloopedaboutitsscarredclaw,andtheotherlimbbroughtuptheshriekingbonesword,thewarpblade falling in an iridescent arc. The prismatic shimmer was a thing of beauty in its own ever-changing way, and it rooted Turcio to the spot with its majesty until the keening weapon slashedthroughthebreechofhisgunandhisrightforearm.TheBloodAngelwasthrownbackbytheshockofthepain,theconsecratedandhallowediconof

his bolter instantly destroyed and his severed limb spewing jets of incarnadine fluids. The reflexreactionsavedhimfrombeingshreddedasMalfallaxfollowedthestrikewithadownwardsweepofhisclaw.The talons tore through thepauldronsofTurcio’sarmourandopenedhiswargear to thenavel.A stronggripyankedhimback.CorvusdraggedTurcioby theneck ringofhis torsoplate,firingoverhisbattle-brother ’sstumblingformintotheadvancingdaemon.Malfallaxchewedontheboltshellsthatstruckit,pickingtheflattenedhumpsoftungstenroundsfromtheholesinitschest.Therewasaflurryofwetmotionbehinditandthebeastcraneditselongatedneckoveracrooked

shoulder.Rafenrosefromthemudwiththespearinatwo-handedgripandstabbedforwardintothemeatofthedaemon’sexposedthigh.Thesparkingbladeburieditselfinthefleshandopenedittotheair.Maggotsandwrithingalienparasitesspilledfromthecut.MalfallaxspatandturneditsattentiontoRafenonceagain.“Stillalive?”“Still.” Rafen grinned and slashed again, cutting at the creature’s hide. The daemon parried the

lunges with a swipe of its freakish sword and came forward, heavy hooves punching into thechurningpuddlesgatheringinthecrater.RafensawCorvusdraggingtheinjuredTurciofromthepitandthrewthemanod.The beast sawhimdo it and cackled. “You are persistent, human, Iwill grant you that, but then

doggedobstinacy isa traitof thecorpse-god’skind.”Hotbreathcoiled inclouds from itsmouths.“Youresistthechangingwayandthatiswhyyouperish.”Rafenrepliedwithaswoopingattack,dancingthetipof thespearabout thequestingwarpblade,

slammingitinsavagestabsatthedaemon’slegs.Itblockedeverystrike,tryingeachtimetotraptheTelestoweaponinthebarbsthatlinedtheedgesofthesword.TheMarinechannelledhiseffortintothespear,lettingthelancebecomeanextensionofhisarms,lookingbeyondtheapexoftheglitteringteardropblade,seeingonlythepointswherethedaemonbledandwept ichor;butstill it fannedthewarpblade,themesmerisingarcofcolourbecomingadomeofmadlight.Heworkedthespearjustas he had been taught on the courtyards of the fortress-monastery, blocking, parrying, advancing,thrusting, sweeping, but never gaining more than a cursory bite from the monster ’s flesh. In hismailed grip, the raw energy of the spear hummed and pulsed inside the ornate shaft and goldencrossguard,throbbingwithpowereverytimeitcutintoMalfallax—butstillitwouldnotrespondtohimasithadtohisbrotherArkio.Therehadbeenamomentthereontherooftopoftheruinedcathedral,afterhethrewArkio’sbody

tothethrongbelow,whenRafenhadthoughttheHolyLancewasabouttoopenitssecretstohim.Itglowedinhishands,lightingtheworldaroundhim.Forafleetinginstant,RafenhadknownthethrillofconnectionwiththeSpearofTelesto,justasArkiomusthave,justasthelordSanguiniushimselfdidintheancientconflictwithMorroga.Butitfledasquicklyastheflashesoflightninginthesteel-greyskyoverhead.Thelancewasasuperlativeweapon,perfectlybalancedandkeenenoughtosliceahairdownitscentre;butunlesshecouldunlockitsinnerpower,itwasonlyarelic.How? he demanded of himself.How can I open the spear tomywill?Arkio had been changed

beyond all normality and the Pure One himself… There was no way that Rafen could comparehimselftotheAngelicSovereign.Heparriedanotherflurryofviolentstrikesbythedaemon,andonetooquicktododgeseveredanestofpowerconduitsonhistrunk.Hefelttheicycoldassuper-cooledliquidspurted fromhisdamagedbackpack.Patchesof frost formedonRafen’sbacksideand thigh,turningtheceramiteandplasteelbrittle.Thedaemonslashedthroughatoppledstonecolumntosnap

attheBloodAngelandheavoidedtheblowwithonlyahand’sspantospare.Rafensworeangrily,halfinfrustrationathimself,halfinadrenaline-fuelledhatefortheMalfallax,

and tookoffa stripof skin from thebeast’s shoulder, forcing it to staggerbackward. It releasedagushofceriseflamefromitshand,theroseatefireturningbrokenstonetoslag,crawlingoverthetilledearthlikealivething.AsparkofhardragestiffenedRafen’sheartasheattackedagain—andthespearrespondedwithhim,suddenlymelting intohisassault, flowingwith thepressofhismuscles.Brief, tiny flares of gold sparks chased each other down the length of the haft. Sudden realisationshookhim:therage!Thegene-cursewasthekey!Malfallax’s eyes for the futurewereblindedbut thebeast still knewhow toplay theharpof the

fates.All thingswereunder themotionof invisible strings that ranged frombirth todeath,past topresent;theypulledalllifeandmatterlikewaywardmarionettes.Thisman-thing,thisBloodAngel,wasasmuchatthemercyofclockworkdestinyaswerethestarsinthesky,thefallingrains,therisingandsettingofSabien’ssun.Withthepaingiftofitsmasterdenied,theMalfallax’ssightofthehumanwhelp’sfatewascloudy,butitknewthereweremanyoutcomeswhereRafenlaydeadandruined,farmore of those than the ones where he stood in victory or where he turned to worship of ChaosUndivided.ThedaemonknewhowtheMarinefought,ithadtoyedwithhimandwatchedhismotions.Itsawthehesitationtelegraphedinhismoves,theresistanceofthelanceinhishands.Rafenwasillateasewiththedeadly,pestilent,hatefulspear—soMalfallaxwouldusethatagainsthim.InRafen’ssplit-secondinstantofindecision,thecreaturecaughttheweaponinatoothednichein

thewarpbladeandtwisted.Thealienswordsangandleftnicksinspace-timeasitdrewbackandup,draggingtheSpearofTelestofromRafen’sshockedgripbeforehecouldreacttohaltit.MalfallaxthrusthimbackwithapulseofpinkfireandtossedtheHolyLanceaway.Itspunintothewetoozeandstartedtosink.TheBloodAngelbeatatthewrithinghellfireandstumbled,awareofthechorusofnoisesaround

him.Soundscoiledoverthearenaofthebombcraterinwaves,theshriekingofdyingmenmingledwithshotandshell,harshthunderandsacrilegiouswarprayers.“Apooradversary,”rumbledthedaemon.“Suchlimitedsport.Perhapsthemind-witchMephiston

willprovideabetterchallenge,orevenyourwastrelLordDante…”Rafen’sangerfloodedoutofhimlikeatorrentfromabrokendam.“Chaosbastard!I’llchokeyou

onthosewords.”“Withwhat?” itdemanded.“Come, littleman-prey,attackmewith toothandclaw, ifyoubelieve

thatwillmakeyourdeathhavemoremeaning.”Witharushofspeed,theMalfallaxshimmeredtowardhim,fastasmercury.Thewarpbladespun

aboutinitsgripandthecalcitestoneoftheheavypommelwhackedhimintheface,splittinghisskinandlightingfireworksofpaininsidehisskull.Rafenstaggeredbackwardsandfell.Thebeast-thingadvanced.It toweredoverhim,blockingout thelightfromthemyriadbattlefiresandthesheetsofwhiteinthetorturedsky.Theburnt,meat-stinkingclawpressedRafenintothecoldmud,holdinghimtheresothedaemoncouldfinishhimwithonelastslashofthebonysword.“Thespearrejectsyou,”itchuckled,jerkingitsheadatthebubblingmudpool.“Youareafailure

toyourChapter,BloodAngel,justlikeyourcravenbrother.”The pressure pulled all the air fromRafen’s chest andwith it a final, heartfelt denial. “No,” he

hissed, pulling together the burning embers of his blood-tinged fury. “No!No!” Throughout hisservicetotheAdeptusAstartes,Rafenhadrestrainedtheblackragewithinhim,holdingthereinsoftheredthirst,neveronceallowingittooverwhelmhisrigid,unbendingself-control;nowhegaveitthefreedomitwantedsobadly,unleashingthebestialfrenzythatwasthedarkestsecretoftheBloodAngels.The red thirst unfurled about him in a storm of seething crimson, a fog of bloodlust madness

descendingontheMarine.Therawenergyofhisprimarchsetaflash-fireinhisveins,thetracesofSanguinius’genetic code engorgedwithpreternatural power.Theheadycocktail ofAstartesbloodand thepotent floodofvigour fromtheLordofDeath’sblood-giftmerged intoRafen, fillinghimwithafurythatblazedwithunbound,inchoatehate.The ropes of fate unwound beforeMalfallax, spinning and snapping in his blindedmind’s eye.

Impossible!Rafenroaredandbroke freeof thebeast’sgrip, shatteringclawsasbigasscimitarsandripping

scabbedskinintorags.Hemovedat thespeedofwrath,anunstoppablebulletofred.TheMarine’sspiritplungedintotherage-seaabouthim,andtherehefoundtheglitteringbeaconoftheHolyLance.Fromtheslimeofthemudswamp,theweaponflewtohim,crossingthedistancetohiswaitinggripinaneye-blink.Goldenfire,shardsoflightningdazzlinglikefragmentsofsuns,rippedfromtheairandcollectedatthehollowheartoftheteardropblade.Theweaponwasawake,thebeatingpulseofthesacredspeartastingRafen’sholyangerandknowingitastrue.Malfallaxlauncheditselfathim,leadingwithwarpblade,openingrentsinrealitywithcerisedarts

offire;it threwtheveiloftheTwistingPathattheBloodAngel,buteveryattackflutteredanddiedagainstthegloryoftheTelestolance.Thedaemonsawitsfate-pathcurlintoblackformlessnessandcriedoutindespair.Awashofmellifluentlightflared,andforabriefmomentRafen’sbattle-ravagedcrimsonwargear

wasreplacedwithgoldenarmour,crestedwithwingsmadeofwhitesteel.Therighteousvengeanceof his primogenitor stared out from Rafen’s ice-blue eyes and carried retribution into the Chaosspawn’sheart.TheSpearofTelestoenteredtheMalfallax’schestandsankintothewrithingmorassofcorruption

inside.Rafenpressedforward,forcingthebladethroughthebeast’sgut,upthroughthedecayedlungsandorganmatter,piercingthewitheredblackmeatofitsheart.Thecreaturescreamedtotheclouds,andstill theBloodAngeladvanced,pressing thehaftof theweapon into thedyingenemyuntil theteardropburstfromMalfallax’sback,betweenhisdrooping,bloodlesswings.“I…am…undeath!”itsputtered.“Youcannotkillachildofthewarp.”“Begone!”Rafenbellowed,hisfangsflashing.“Yourcursedrealmawaits!”“Aaaaaaaaa—”Malfallax’sdeathrattlewasdeafeningfromitsdozenmouths.“Youhavenotwon,”

spatsomeofthem.“Yourragewillbeyourending—”“Die!”Rafenshouted,onefinalshoveof thespearcutting thedaemon’s link to its fleshyvessel.

StreaksofsizzlingectoplasmburstoutofStele’scarcass,rippingawaythroughtheblood-mistedairandflashingintonothing;glisteningjagsofetherealwarpmatter,unabletosustainpermanenceforevenasecondonthehumanplaneofreality,bangedandvanished,takingtheweaveofthecreature’swreckedselfscreamingbackintothemadnessoftheimmaterium.Themutantbodyturnedtopowderyblackstone,trappingthelanceinsideadeformedstatue.Rafen

toreatthespearanditwenthotinhisgrip,givingoutashockwaveofheatthatobliteratedtheashenform.“Wait,”hecried,asuddenshadowoffearpassingthroughhim;buthiscallcametoolate.Likea

tornadomadeofnails,theblackashexplodedoutwardinaperfectconcentricring,eachtinyparticleofthecontaminatedmatterimpregnatedwiththevoid-bornantipathyoftheRuinousPowers.Asurgeofmadhatepassed throughRafenand threwhim into theair.The tideof rancourmovedover thesquare,touchingeverysingleBloodAngelonthesurfaceofSabien,tearingtheveneerofhumanityfromeachofthem,debasingtheSpaceMarines.ThenoblecharacterandhighhonouroftheSonsofSanguiniusfledbeforeamadnessthatmadethemallanimals.Malfallax’slaughterechoedashisdeathcurseexposedtheinsanityoftheFlawinhisenemies,andtoamantheyfellintothehorrificgripoftheredthirst.

Itwasnotbattle;itwasbutchery.Amongthegalesofdrivingrainandcracksofthunder,menfellintheirdozensunderthefrenzyof

theBloodAngels.Still-beatingheartswere torn from thechestsofhelot troopersandcrushed likeripe fruits, the nectar of heavy arterial blood drained into gaping, hungry mouths. Blood Angelsnuzzled at the throats of corpses, fans of crimson covering their chins and necks, barking andgrowling at one another like jackals fighting over fresh carrion. Lakes of vitae poured into thesquare,turningthedampairsharpwiththerusty,metallictangofitsscent.Blood,bloodandblood;therewasnoendtoit,torrentsoftherichredfluidslickingthemudaroundthefeetofthecombatants.Theerrantslavewarriorswerenottheonlyonestocometomurderbytherageofthemaddened

Astartes;WordBearers found themselves shocked silent from their impious revels as the Sons ofSanguiniusthrewallcautiontothewindandfellontheminwaves.TheBlessedofLorgarfacedfoesthatwerelittlemorethanaforceofnaturenow,aliving,breathing,killingstormofmenwithoutfearorcompunction.TheBloodAngelswereberserkers,spiritsofscarletdestructionthatgavenoquarterandaskednoneinreturn.WarmasterGarandshothellboltsintothebodiesofthered-armouredAstartesthatcameinrange,

butthedeath’sheadshellsdidlittletostopthecrazedtide.BloodAngelswithlimbsmissingandgreatfists of meat torn from them still roared on in battle frenzy, the light of humanity inside themextinguishedby theMalfallax’spartinggift, its ruinoushatewave.TheWitchPrinceofHelicahadseenthissortofbehaviouronthebattlefieldbefore,butneverfromahumanopponent.Inhisforaysinto the Eye of Terror and sorties where theWord Bearers found themselvesmatchedwith otherfollowersof the eightfoldway,Garandhadbeen cursedwith themisfortune to fight alongside theWorldEaters.Madmenamongacultureofpsychotics,theberzerkerbandskilledallyandfoealikeintheirunending lust toclaimskulls for theSkullThroneof theBloodGod.TheWarmastersaw thesame stripe of insanity here and now among the Astartes legion, a revelry in the slaughter forslaughter ’ssake.“They fight like Khorne himself,” grated one of Garand’s lieutenants. “I have never seen the

like…”“Ihave,”spatGarand,andhesnarledwithanger.“Thewarptakethisblightedscheme.Thatdaemon

wretchhasfledthefield.”HymnalsfromtheUnhallowedBookswereturnedintogurglingscreamsasthewildBloodAngels

assaulttouchedtheWordBearerslineandnecksweretornopen.Garandwatchedinfuryasasquadofhishandpickedaspirantsvanishedunderasurgeofredarmour,fallinglikecuttimbers.“Lord.Lord!”criedavoice,andheglanceddownfromhisvantagepointasawar-priestcrashed

towardhimthroughthemelee.“Lord,theveilhasclosedtous!”Inhisanger,Garandgrabbed theWordBeareranddraggedhimtohiseye level.“Speakplainly,

fool.”TheMarinewrithedinhisgrip.“Oursummoningshavebeenended,Lord.Everydaemonformwe

calledtobeforthebattlehasfallendeadandinert!”“Malfallax.”Garand released thewar-priest, cursing theLord ofChange’s name over and over.

“Thatpestilentwraith.Thisishisdoing!”“Buthow?”demandedthelieutenant.Garandswepthishandabout.“Itdrewbackitsessencewhenthehost-bodyperished,andwithitall

thewarp-matter from the field of battle.Nothing remains.We are becalmed, lost to the empyreanhere.”Heshovedthewar-priestasideandsnatchedathislieutenant.“Ourbattlehereisended.Rally.Rally!”“Lord,youcannotmeanto—”

“Retreat?”Thewordthunderedfromhislips.“Themadonescannotbestoppedbyournumbers,fool.”Hetorearod-shapedteleportbeaconfromtheMarine’sbelt.“Wego.”“No,”sputtered thewar-priest,hisardouroverwhelminghisbetter reason.“Ever forward,never

back!ThatistheWordBearerscode.Wedonotretreat.”Garand struck him with a brutal punch and threw him aside. “Imbecile! Leave these freaks to

themselvesandwhatwilltheykill?Eachother.”“No…”The Warmaster pressed the activation glyph and felt the warm tingle of the Misericorde’s

teleportersreachingforhim.HislastactiononSabienwastoshootthewar-priestinthelegandleavehimthereforthemadmen;punishmentenoughfordaringtospeakagainsttheWitchPrince.

MephistondidnotnoticethedepartureoftheWordBearers.Some,thosewhowereinjuredornonetoo quick to run for the glowing bubbles of the teleport fields, died themoment they turned theirbacksontheBloodAngels,theirmeatandtheirarmourjoiningtheendlessslurryofcorpseslitteringthe ruined landscape. Perhaps, in some far distant corner of his night-black soul, the part ofMephiston that was still themanwho had been Brother Calistarius existed. That tiny fragment oflucidity cried and screamed for the red thirst to abate, desperately trying and failing to haltMephiston’sheadlongrushintothebosomoftheblackrage.OnArmageddon, theLord ofDeath had been transformed after seven days and seven nights of

wrestling the gene-curse, but now even his iron will had snapped, caught in the maelstrom ofbloodlustthatfilledhissoul.Hewasnotconsciousofthehotweaponsinhishands,onlythathecouldkillandkillandkillwiththem,unstoppableandfuriousinthegloryofit.“Mephiston!”Thenamemeantnothingtohim;hehadnoidentitynow,onlyanall-consuminghate.“Mephiston,heedme.Rejectthedarkness.”Aredshapemovedintohisblurredvision.“Rejectit!”With an incoherent howl,Mephistondroppedhis force swordon theman-form, seeingonly the

pulsingfleshandhearingthebeatofawarmheartinside.ThemindbladeVitarusmetarodofgoldenlightandstoppeddead,thepoweroftheimpactrockingtheLordofDeathbackonhisheels.Fangsflared,Mephistonpressedagainsttheglitteringhaftandforthefirsttime,hesawwhodaredtodefyhim.Rafencrossed theHolyLance,blinkingaway the sparks that emergedwhereMephiston’s sword

scrapedbackandforth.ThebarbedtipofthebladewasatRafen’sneckandhefelttheicycoldofthecrystallinebladetouchhisskinandopenit.TheMarine’sbloodpooledintheleeofhisclavicleandglistenedontheswordtip.“Raaaaaaa!”TherewasnohumanityintheLordofDeath’sgaze.“Mephiston!” It was the Spear of Telesto that had protected him, Rafen was sure of it. When

Malfallax’shatehadconsumedallhisbattle-brothers,healonekepthismindintact,thewarmtouchofthelanceclearinghisvisionof thesuffocatingrage.Itwashealonewhocouldstemthetideof themadness, before his comrades tore each other apart. “Step back from the abyss. In the name ofSanguinius,releaseyourrage!”Golden light gushed from the spear and struck Mephiston like a physical blow. He staggered

backward,hisswordfallingaway,thedullglitterofinsanitycastfromhissight.Allaroundthem,theroarsof frenzyandmurder subsided into the rushingmurmurof the rains.Thewater sluiced spiltbloodfromtheLibrarian’sfaceandchestashelookedupfromhishandsandintoRafen’seyes.“You…”Itwasdifficult forMephiston to speakat first, thewordshardandheavy inhis fogged

mind.“Youreclaimedmefromthebrink…How?”Thespear ’sbrightcoloursbegantofade,growingquiescent.“Idonotknow.”Rafenadmitted.“I

wasonlytheinstrument.Myhandwasguided…”Thewarrior-psykershookoffthelingeringtaintofthethirstandshuttereditawaydeepwithin.He

watchedRafenexaminethesilent lance,hismailedfingers tracingtheshapeof thecarvingof theirprimarch.Theladhad,foronemoment,touchedthesoulofthemostholyweapon,andwithithehaddrawn his kinsmen back from the edge of a soul-killing void. Although his expression betrayednothing,inwardlyMephistonmarvelledatthepotentialofonewhowassoblessedwiththetouchofthePureOne.

EPILOGUE

Theskyhadbeguntorainrubytearswhentherescueshipsblasteddownthroughthecloudcover.ThegrimfacesoftheSpaceMarinesfromtheEuropaetoldthetaleoftheirinnerthoughts.Theysawthecarnagethatlayaboutinthecitystreetsanddidnotspeakofit.Noneofthemwouldshametheirbrothersbyaskingafterwhathadtakenplacetherebeneaththecurtainofgreyclouds,whilethebattlebargeandtheChaoswarshipwentbackandforthwithsalvosoflaserfireandmissiles.RafenwatchedasMephistonacceptedthereportofaveteransergeantwithasolemn,seriousmien.

A lucky hit from theEuropae’s main guns had torn open a wound in theMisericorde that venteddirectly into her weapon store, and the red-hued battleship had been hobbled. There had come amoment,thesergeantsaid,whensomethingpeculiarhappenedtotheWordBearersship;thecodicersandLibrariansaboardEuropaehadcriedoutasonewhentheshockofsomethinghorribleresonatedout from the shrine world below, a spillage of a black and potent evil.Misericorde had felt theundertowfromthewarpschismaswellandthingshaddiedaboardtheenemyshipfromthepainofthepassing.Itwasallthebarge’scaptainhadneededtopresstheadvantage,andsoonaftertheWordBearers, the proud and arrogant demagogues who swore they would never fall back, disengagedfromthefightandmadebestspeedtotheouterfaceofthedebrisring.Herenginesdamaged,EuropaewasunfittocatchtheChaoscraftandsothecrewwatchedMisericordereachfreespaceandfallintothephantasmofaskull-formedwarpgate.Thesnarlingfacehungin thedarkfor longsecondsandthenfaded.RafenglancedatthedullskyandthentotheLibrarian.“Isthisvictory,LordMephiston?”TheLordofDeathwalkedawaytowardthewaitingThunderhawks.“Fornow,”hesaidquietly.

TheystayedinorbitforanothersolarweekwhiletheChapterserfsandindenturedcrewexpeditedEuropae’srepairs.TaskforcesofSpaceMarinesexpert invacuumenvironmentsweresentout intothe disc of fragments that marked the site of Bellus’s infernal death, charged with searching thewreckageforanysurvivorsormaterialsofinteresttotheChapter.ThosefewsealedescapepodsthatwerefoundcontainedpanickedgroupsofShenlongicitizens,membersofArkio’sthousandwhohadbrokenwhenthefightinghadstarted.TheBloodAngels treated themin themannerofallenemiesof theImperium,offering themthe

choiceofbolterorairlock.Mostchose the former,weepingon theirknees in thenameofRafen’sbrotherastheydiedfrompoint-blankhead-shots.Oneoftheteamslocatedthehardenedsteelmodulefrom the interior ofBellus that housed the ship’s progenoid capsules.Many of the clerics aboardEuropaewereoftheopinionthatthegene-seedsweretaintedandfitonlyforthefiresofthefusionfurnace, but Mephiston spoke otherwise. The vital organs were placed in secure holding for thejourneyback toBaal; itwouldbeLordCommanderDantealonewhowoulddecide the fateof thepodsofgeneticmatter.Rafen thoughton thisandwondered.DidhisoldmentorKoris’ soul stillhidesomewhere inhis

progenoidgland?AndwhatofBennek,Simeonandtheothers?Wouldtheyliveagainoneday,orbecursedbyproximitytoArkio’sinsurrection?TheBloodAngelkneltinasmallsub-chanceloffthecentraltranseptoftheEuropae’smainchapel.

ThevastchambermirroredtheoneaboardtheBellusinlineandform,althoughthedecoration,the

stainedglass and the scripture across thewalls andmosaic floorweredifferent.Being theremadeRafenfeelstrangelydisplaced:itwasalmostasifhewereinsomeparallelworld,analternateversionof the nowwhere paths had been different and outcomes altered. He heard footsteps approachingbehindhimandraisedhishead,foronegiddymomentexpectingtoseeArkiocomingtowardhim—notthegolden,wingedavatar,butthestrong,proudMarinehehadmetonCybele.MephistonslowedtoahaltandnoddedtoRafen.Thepsyker ’sbattlearmourwasabsentnow,and

insteadheworethesacredrobesofhishighorder.“Brother,”hesaid,bywayofgreeting.Rafenreturnedaslownod.“Mylord.”Hewenttostand,butMephistonshookhishead,andbade

himremainwherehewas.“Whatdoyouwishofme?”Foramoment, thepsykerwassilent.“Welickourwounds,Rafen, inourownwayswehealand

moveon.TheChaplainstellmeyouhavenotleftthechapelindays.”“No.”Rafenadmitted.“Ifeltit…necessary.”“Manywouldagree.After theceremoniesfor thefallenandtheritualsofpurgation,yourbattle-

brothershavespokentomeoftheneedtoexpungethissorryincidentfromourchronicles.”“Thatwouldbeamistake.”Rafensaidquietly.“Todothatwouldmeanwehavelearnednothing.”Mephistoncontinued.“Theshipisreadytodepart,andIhaveorderedtheastropathstomakespace

forShenlong.Itwillbe…necessarytoexpungeanylastingtracesofthehereticStele’splans.”“Youwilldestroytheforge-world.”Itwasnotaquestion.“Exterminatus,”breathedtheLibrarian.“Asadbutinevitableconclusion.”Heglancedupatthealtar

inthemainsectionofthechapel.HeldinamagneticfieldbottlewastheSpearofTelesto,quietnowbutstilldazzlingasitslowlyturnedaboutitsownaxis.“AmItosharethatfateaswell?”Rafenaskedinalevelvoice.“Iamnomoreorlesstaintedthan

thepeopleofthatwretchedsphere.”“Some would argue thus.”Mephiston admitted. “There are voices from Baal that counsel your

executionalongwiththeloyalistsurvivorsgatheredfromSabien.TheyareafraidthatyoumaytakethesamepathasArkio.TheknowledgethatyouwereabletowieldtheHolyLance…”“Briefly,lord.Onlybriefly.”Thepsykereyedhim.“Indeed.Butcoolerheadshaveprevailed.Yourdedicationandhonourtoour

Chapter,howeverunorthodox,wasunparalleled.CommanderDantewillgiveyouanaudiencewhenwemakehomeport,but rather thanholduntil thatday,hehasgivenme leave tograntyoua fieldpromotioninrespectofyourselflessness.Theleadershipofafullcompanyofmenisyours.ThelateCaptainSimeon’scommand,theSixth.”Rafenletoutabreath.“Withyourpermission,lord,ImustrespectfullydeclineCommanderDante’s

greataccolade.”“Yourefuse?”Henodded.“IfIamtoearncaptaincy,itwillbeonmyterms.IdonotfeelIdeservesuchrank…not

yet.”“ThenwhatamItodowithyou,lad?Thiswillnotsitwell.”TheMarinelookedupattheLibrarian.“MayIaskafavourinstead,then?”“Nameit.”“Iaskformercy, lord.Grantclemencyandcompassion tomybattle-brotherswhostrayed, those

whofollowedmysiblingunwillingly.”He thoughtofTurcioandCorvusas theyhadbeenbroughtaboardEuropaestrippedof theirwargearand inmanacles.“Theironlyerrorwas tobeblindedbytheirbeliefinSanguinius.Theirfaithwasturnedagainstthemandmisused.Theyarenottoblame.”Mephiston considered his request. “There are rites of cleansing and purification that might be

employed…Theyarequitearduous.Manywouldnotsurvive.”“Theywill,” said Rafen, “and their faith will be twice as strong for it.” He got to his feet and

approachedthealtar.AsMephistonwatched,theMarinereachedintothemag-fieldandranhisbarehandoverthehaftofthespear.Hegrippedthelanceandforamoment,Rafenfelttheweightofitinhishandsonceagain.Hepeeredattheteardropblade—themetalseemedtoranandshiftinthelight,glisteningwiththebloodofthedeaduponit.“Whatdoyousee?”askedtheLordofDeath.Rafensawdarkredthere,andheknewthatitwashisbrother ’sbloodupontheblade,glitteringand

thengone.“GreatAngel,hearme,”hewhispered.“TakemybrotherArkiotoyourside,bringhimtotheEmperor ’s right hand. Forgive his folly and forgivemine.This I beseech you.”He bowedhishead.“MylifeandmysoulfortheGod-Emperor,forSanguinius…FortheBloodAngels.”Heclosedhiseyes,andthereinthedepthsofhissoul,hefeltthemarkofhisliegelord,indelible

andbrightasagoldensun.

Intheblackness,Misericordelimpedonward,gushinggasandvitalfluidsintothevacuumofspace,slowlybleedingtodeathasitcrawledeverclosertotheMaelstromandthelairoftheWordBearers.Garand smacked at the chirurgeon-servitor attending to the damage on his arm and stood up.Thewrithingenergiesof theship’s teleporterhad turned theWarmaster ’s limb intoadistortedmessofboneandmuscle.Hehadalreadykilled the serf responsible for theerrorby feeding it to the two-headedmonstrosity thathadbeenthreeofhisbestMarines…At least,before thebotchedbeam-outfromSabien.At his feet, Garand’s personal vox-servitor cowered. He had allowed the slave to keep some

measureofitspersonalitywhenhehadtakenitforhisretinue.ItmadelittlesensetotheWarmastertohaveservantsthatcouldnotbeafraidofhim.“What?”hedemandedofit.“A signal from theEye, your darkness,” it chattered. “The burning psy-mark upon themessage

bearstheloathsomesigilofhismostfoulandhatefulself,theDespoilerofWorlds.”“Abaddon.”Garand said, suddenlyweary.He ignored the squealingof the servitor as heopenly

uttered the High Warmaster ’s name. “Of course.” The Word Bearer laughed with harsh, brittlehumour. “Andwhat am I to say tohim?Tellme, littleman-slave,how I shall phrasemywords toinformtheDespoilerthatthealliespromisedhimfortheThirteenthBlackCrusadehavebeendenied?WithwhatsweetliesdoIconcealthefailureoftheMalfallaxandStele…andmyself?”“I…Idonot—”“Silence!” roaredGarand. “I alone survive. I alonemust take the blame!”As quickly as it had

arisen,theWarmaster ’sangersubsided.“Bringmydeath-shroud.Iwillhaveneedofit.”

Theformlessrealmofwarpspacecouldturnamaninsaneatthesightofit.Thefrothingmassofalienenergiesdefiedthemindsoforganiclifeforms.Itwasarawlandscapeoftwistedemotion,peaksandtroughscutfromthestuffofnightmares.Inthissmallpocketoftheimmaterium,inthechurningandunknowablehellthatwasthenestofthedreadMalfallax,screamsandshrieksofangerbuiltcagesofhatefromthepsychoactivematter.Thedisembodiedconsciousnessofthedaemon,woundedbythebrutalseveringofitslinktoStele’shost-corpse,hootedandhowleditspaintotheendlessmadvista.Its towering furywould last foruncountableages—but then in thewarp, timehadnomeaningandcorrelationtootherrealities.There would come a moment when the Malfallax would calm enough to begin conceiving of

revengesbothsubtleandgross,nursinganangerthatonlythemostinhumancouldcontain.Anangerdirectedatoneman,atthesinglebeingwhobroughtitscomplexschemestoruin.Oneday,therewouldbeareckoningforthecostsoftheMalfallax,andeveryBloodAngelwould

payathousandtimesoverforthedaemon’sdefeatatRafen’shand.

ScanningandbasicproofingbyRedDwarf,formattingandadditionalproofingbyUndead.