eye of Horus, low to the ground.
“Welcome, Inshabael,” said Marduk smoothly. “I am honoured that you will be joining us for
this crusade. It is always good to fight alongside our brothers of the Black Legion, and I am sure that
your wise council will be invaluable in the coming days of blood.”
“I extend my gratitude to you for your kind words, Dark Apostle Marduk,” replied the sorcerer,
his Cthonian accent harsh. “The Warmaster is keenly interested in your… xenos curio.”
Marduk bowed his head, a pale smile on his lips. Abaddon had clearly sent the sorcerer to watch
over the Word Bearers, but Marduk did not allow his anger to be reflected on his face.
The sorcerer’s eyes drifted skywards, towards where the Infidus Diabolus hung in low orbit, and
Marduk followed his gaze. The battleship was but one of many there, hovering motionless in the
burning skies of the daemon world. There were thirteen battleships in all, and again Marduk felt his
breath stolen by their awesome sight.
Thirteen battleships of the Word Bearers: five full Hosts, each led by a Dark Apostle.
The Thunderhawks and Stormbirds of the other Hosts were already flocking skywards, each one
filled with bloodthirsty, zealous warriors. Heavier shuttles rose ponderously towards the waiting
battleships, battle tanks and screaming daemon engines looked within their holds or hanging beneath
them from metre-thick cables and locking clamps.
Immense transports lifted from the surface of Sicarus, emerging from beneath the parade
grounds around the basilica, which slid aside to reveal gaping, subterranean crypt-holds below. The
giant tubular vessels were powered by roaring engines that scorched the buildings below them as
they rose into the air, defying the powers of gravity that strained to pull them back to earth.
Kathartes swirled around the behemoths, filling the air with their piercing screams, for the daemons
knew what was held within, and were hungry for them to be awoken. God-machines worshipped as
physical representations of the powers that be, the titans of the dark Mechanicus rose towards the
battleships, and Marduk relished the time that would soon come when the demi-legion of
immeasurably destructive war machines would be unleashed. Long had it been since he had
marched to war with the immense forms of titans striding behind him, each step covering fifty
metres of ground, and their weapons laying waste to entire Imperial cities.
“An impressive sight,” said the sorcerer.
177
“Indeed,” agreed Marduk, a satisfied smile on his face. “Once more the Imperium will tremble.”
The Dark Apostle lifted his skull-faced helmet from under his arm and pulled it over his head. It
connected with a hiss, and he breathed deeply of the acrid, recycled air.
“The Black Legion are keeping their eye on us?” growled Kol Badar in a low voice across a
closed circuit vox that none bar Marduk could hear.
“Something like that,” said Marduk, replying across the closed circuit. He glanced towards the
hulking Coryphaus.
“Don’t think for a moment that I don’t know what you tried to do, Kol Badar: your little attempt
to usurp me,” said Marduk mildly, his voice oozing menace.
The Coryphaus stiffened, but made no response.
“I am your Dark Apostle, with the full backing and confidence of the Council,” continued
Marduk calmly. “I will no longer tolerate or indulge any insubordination. I will warn you only
once.”
Then he turned to his comrades and broke off the closed communications.
“Come, my brothers,” he said, his voice booming. “It is time.”
“We go to war?” inquired the Warmonger, its voice booming, sepulchral and eager.
“To war,” confirmed Marduk.
178
EPILOGUE
Marduk stood with his arms folded across his chest as he watched Darioq-Grendh’al at work.
A series of dark metal rings, each as tall as a man and inscribed with Chaotic runes of power,
were aligned above a pentangle of blood, held in mid-air by the servo-arms of the magos. There
were three rings in total, each fractionally smaller than the last, and they were aligned to form a
single, large circle. Mechadendrite tentacles steadied the rings, holding them motionless with
snapping, barbed claws and daemonic mouths. Another tentacle, black and smooth, emerged from
within the ex-priest of the Machine-God’s body, squirming from a bloody rent that opened up on his
metal chest, reaching towards a control column that rose beside the magos.
A blinking eye appeared at the tip of the tentacle, and it peered down at the controls. Then the
eye melted back into the fleshy tip of the tentacle, and it keyed in a sequence of buttons on the
console.
A red light rose from the centre of the pentangle, and a similar light stabbed down from the
ceiling above, where a similar daemonic symbol had been daubed. The two beams of light met,
passing through angular holes within the sides of the dark metal rings, and Darioq-Grendh’al
released his grip on them.
Marduk half-expected the metal rings to fall to the ground, but they hung in place, perfectly
motionless as the magos stepped away. A pair of black-robed chirumeks, their wasted flesh
augmented with mechanics, stepped forwards and presented the magos with a featureless stasis box.
Mechadendrites stabbed a series of buttons, and the lid of the stasis box slid aside, smoke rising
from within.
Then, with delicate care, the magos brought forth a perfect, silver sphere from within the box.
The chirumeks scurried back into the darkness, and Darioq-Grendh’al moved back towards the rings
hanging suspended in mid-air.
The magos extended his mechadendrites, reaching towards the joined beams of red light, and
placed the silver sphere in their centre, where they had joined. It hung there, caught between the two
beams, and Darioq-Grendh’al retreated once more.
The dark metal rings began to rotate, three rings moving in separate arcs that rolled around one
another, moving smoothly and with increasing speed. The sound of air being displaced by the
spinning rings got louder as they rotated faster, and soon the sound became a solid hum. The red
light of the twin beams became diffuse, filling the sphere created by the rotating rings as they spun
ever faster.
Marduk’s eyes were locked on the silver sphere, the Nexus Arrangement that hung motionless in
the centre of the rapidly spinning rings. At first nothing happened, but then glowing green, xenos
hieroglyphs appeared across the perfect silver sphere. They glowed with intense light, and the
sphere appeared to melt, its faultless, seamless exterior becoming seven rings that began to rotate
around a centre of glowing green light.
The rings began to turn, mirroring the movements of the larger rings constructed by Darioq-
Grendh’al, though their movements were slower.
Turning a dial, the red beams of light began to intensify and thicken, turning the green light at
the centre of the xenos sphere a daemonic, bruised purple colour.
“It works,” said Marduk, with a grin. It was his to command.
Green lightning flickered across the tip of the black pyramid as the prison of the ancient being
known as the Undying One was shattered. A billowing cloud of dust rose from the ground as the
immense pyramid began to rise, green hieroglyphs glowing into life upon its sides. Larger than any
battleship, it lifted towards the dark sky, powered by engines far beyond human comprehension, for
it was created by beings that had been in existence before the stars had been formed.
The majority of its bulk had been hidden beneath the rock, and it shattered the earth as it rose to
the heavens, casting a shadow over the continent below. It rose higher into the air, green lightning
still crackling across its sheer sides.
Directed by the Undying One’s immortal will, it turned towards the angry red blemish that
scarred the night sky, towards the Eye of Terror, towards the one that had released it from its
imprisonment.
(The End)
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