airship descended into the chasm before smashing upon its floor.
“And that,” breathed Jarulek as he stared down at the structure hungrily, “is what I have come to
find.”
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The Cult of the Anointed stood to attention upon the deep, abyssal chasm floor. The glossy black
sides of the pyramid rose up some two hundred metres behind them. Nothing upon its sides gave
any indication as to its origin and it was unmarked by scratch or blemish.
The Dark Apostle strode imperiously down the assault ramp of the Stormbird, flanked by his
First Acolyte and the Icon Bearer. He wore his ceremonial cloak of skin, the inside lined with
golden thread, and his head was held high, for this was the moment of his success.
Twenty of the Anointed formed a corridor that the trio strode along, each slamming a heavy foot
down onto the earth as they passed. They advanced towards the bulky form of Kol Badar, standing
at the head of the two hundred Terminators arrayed in serried ranks, who awaited the arrival of their
lord in silence. All two hundred warriors stamped their feet into the ground as the Dark Apostle
halted before them.
The Coryphaus spread his arms wide, palms up, the power claw on his left arm dwarfing the
right, as he intoned the ritual greeting.
“The Cult of the Anointed greets the revered Dark Apostle with open arms and beseeches the
Dark Gods to bless him for time eternal.”
“And the blessing of the Ether upon you, my loyal Anointed warriors,” said Jarulek, concluding
the ritual.
“My lord, we have secured the area and I have inspected the outside of the structure. There
appears to be no entrances to its interior.”
“The door shall be opened to him of pure faith,” said Jarulek, a knowing smile on his face.
“Yes, my lord,” said the Coryphaus, bowing his head to Jarulek’s proclamation. “Our auspexes
and sensors are unable to scan within. It gives off nothing, my lord.”
“And what of that?” asked Jarulek, pointing towards the black smoke rising in the distance that
marked where the airship of the Mechanicus had gone down. “Did you ensure it was destroyed?”
“I did, my lord. There was a survivor from the crash. I brought it back alive, for I thought it
would interest you.”
“Master of the cog will come in chains and tattered robes, to become Enslaved,” quoted Jarulek,
a smile upon his script covered, pale face. “And so, the prophecy comes to fruition.”
Jarulek strode forwards, raising his cursed crozius arcanum high into the air as he neared the base of
the black, flawless structure. Not a mark could be seen upon the pyramid’s slick surface, not a crack
or a join—it was as if the whole structure had been carved from one gigantic piece of some
midnight, glossy mineral.
As he neared it, a green light began to glow, dimly at first and then more fiercely The light
coalesced into strange symbols running vertically down the surface in front of the Dark Apostle,
hieroglyphs the likes of which Marduk had never seen before. It appeared to be a form of early
picture writing, consisting of circles and lines, but it was utterly alien in design.
The green light grew in intensity until the glare spilling from the strange glyphs was almost
blinding. More light began to appear upon the surface of the pyramid and Marduk clenched his hand
around the grip of his daemon-blade, feeling the reassuring connection as the barbs of the grip
pierced his armour and flesh.
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A circular symbol appeared, and lines that could have been representations of sunbeams spread
from its circumference. Without a sound, the circle sank into the black surface of the stone and the
panels created by the “sunbeams” slid to the side, revealing a dark entranceway within the structure,
almost five metres in height. Air was sucked into the open gateway, as if the inside of the structure
was a vacuum, and icy coldness exuded from within.
The Anointed moved up protectively around the Dark Apostle, combi-bolters and heavy
weapons swinging towards the open gateway.
Jarulek turned towards Marduk, a smile upon his lips.
“Come, my First Acolyte. Our destinies await us.”
Allowing a dozen members of the Anointed to take the lead, Marduk and Jarulek entered the
ancient, alien pyramid.
A searing pain flared on Marduk’s head beneath his helmet as he crossed the boundary into the
pyramid, and he dropped to one knee, eyes tightly shut. It felt like someone had pressed a red-hot
brand against the flesh of his forehead.
“What is wrong with you?” snapped Jarulek.
Marduk concentrated hard, mouthing the scriptures of Lorgar to shut off the burning pain, and
pushed himself back to his feet.
It felt as though his skin was being melted away from the bone and he gritted his sharp teeth as
he mouthed the sacred words.
He knew what the feeling was—it had been described to him—and he had read of it in countless
accounts of Dark Apostles.
Jarulek’s words came back to him.
Have you had any holy scriptures appear on your flesh yet?
He pushed the pain deep within him, feeling a surge of pride. He could still feel the searing pain,
but it would not dominate him. He rose to his feet.
“Nothing, Dark Apostle,” he said, and the Word Bearers pressed on into the alien pyramid.
“There is nothing here,” said Kol Badar. They had been walking through the darkness for what
seemed like hours, passing through endless, smooth corridors flanked by columns of obsidian,
descending deeper into the stygian blackness. They must have been far beneath the ground, thought
Marduk. How large a structure was this unearthly, black pyramid?
“That which I seek is here,” said the Dark Apostle. “I have seen this place in my dream visions.”
Marduk could sense something, but what it was he didn’t know. His skin prickled with vague
unease. He ran his hand along the smooth, black stone, feeling the icy chill within.
The corridor was wide enough for four Terminators to walk side by side, and the Dark Apostle
was flanked by warriors who formed a shield of ablative armour around him. They had passed
dozens of other corridors and passages that bisected their own, but Jarulek had never once paused to
consider the way forward. He strode onwards, his head held high, as if he had been here before.
“This place is ancient,” said Marduk. “What manner of xenos created this structure?”
“Creatures long dead,” said Kol Badar, his deep voice ringing out from the speakers concealed
beneath the quad-tusks of his helmet.
“Maybe,” said Marduk, but he was not so certain. This place certainly felt dead, but unease
nagged at him.
“Drak’shal is writhing within me,” snarled Burias. His eyes shone with daemonic witch-sight, like
silver orbs in the gloom.
“Keep control of yourself, Icon Bearer,” replied Kol Badar sharply.
“The daemon is… repelled by this place,” said Burias.
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A whisper of air brushed past Marduk and he swung his helmeted head to one side, scanning for
movement or heat signals that would indicate an enemy presence. There was nothing. Another wisp
of air shadowed by him and he raised his bolt pistol, scanning to the left. “Something is in here with
us,” he hissed. “Anointed, be vigilant, possible hostile presence,” said Kol Badar, his words carrying
to each of the Terminators through their internal comm-system. The Terminators turned left and
right, weapons panning.
There was a sudden shout and the darkness was lit up as combi-bolters roared. There was a
crunching sound followed by a wet splash and more bolter-fire barked.
Marduk felt a shadow rise behind him and he spun to see a towering shape looming out of the
gloom, something that did not register on any of his heat or life sensors. Even with his advanced
vision and the keen autosenses of his helmet, the shape was still little more than a shadow, a
tapering coil of darkness that rose up to a hunched pair of shoulders. Skeletally thin arms whipped
out, plunging down into the body of an Anointed warrior-brother, skewering him, and blood
splashed out across the slick, black walls.
With a shout, Marduk fired his bolt pistol into the shape and he saw a shadowy face turn towards
him, pinpricks of green light marking eyes amidst the darkness. With inhuman speed the creature
was gone, leaping straight into the smooth, black wall, its tapering shadow tail whipping behind it as
it disappeared. The Anointed warrior fell to the ground, dead. “They are coming out of the walls,”
roared Marduk, spinning as he felt another shadow flash past him. He thumbed the activation rune
of his daemon-blade to life and the chainblades roared.
Shouts and gunfire erupted as more shadowy forms appeared all along the corridor, plunging
their long arms into the bodies of the Anointed, killing and rending, before disappearing like ghosts.
A pair of green, glowing eyes appeared as a shape rose out of the floor before Marduk, and he
swung his chainsword towards it. He saw a dark, metallic, skeletal face as the thing opened its
mouth in a soundless hiss. It reared back out of range of his attack, its shadowy torso held aloft upon
a long, flexible spinal cord that tapered into darkness.
He fired his pistol towards the thing’s head, but the bolts passed through it as it turned to black
smoke. In an instant, it had regained its metallic, physical form and lunged at him, preternaturally
fast arms plunging down to impale him. He lashed out with his chainsword and threw himself into a
desperate roll beneath the descending ghost creature, feeling the teeth of his weapon bite against
something solid. As he came to his feet, the creature was gone.
The Terminator to his left staggered to his knees as shadowy blades punched through his head,
and Marduk lashed out with his chainsword once more, the blade passing harmlessly through the
shadowy, serpentine spinal cord of the creature before it disappeared back within the sanctity of the
black walls.
“We have to get out of this corridor, we need more space!” yelled Burias, flailing to defend
himself against a shadow that emerged to his right.
“Warriors of Lorgar! Advance, double time!” roared Kol Badar.
Marduk saw a creature descend from the darkness above, coiling down to impale another
warrior upon its skeletal arms, and the man was lifted up into the air, legs kicking.
“Gods of the Ether give me strength,” Marduk heard the Dark Apostle spit, and he saw him
smash his cursed crozius into the enemy. A burst of hot electric energy crackled over the dark shape
as the weapon made contact, and it was smashed to the ground, its metallic limbs and long,
serpentine spine thrashing feebly. The skull of the creature caved in with the Dark Apostle’s next
blow and the green glow of its eyes faded to darkness.
“Move out! Protect the Dark Apostle,” roared Kol Badar as he turned to give covering fire to
those warriors behind him. More of the Anointed were slain as wraiths appeared out of nowhere and
drove their bladed, shadow-arms through armour and flesh.
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One warrior, walking resolutely backwards, his reaper autocannon roaring, caught one of the
shadowy creatures in a blast of heavy fire and it was ripped apart by the awesome force of the
weapon.
“Enkil, turn!” roared Kol Badar as a wraith dropped down from the darkness behind the warrior.
The Coryphaus stepped forwards, pumping fire towards the dark shape looming over the warrior,
but the shots passed straight through the creature. Enkil turned, swinging his heavy weapon around
to bear, but the shadow was too quick and it drove twin-bladed arms through his body. He fell to his
knees, blood pumping from the wounds. Kol Badar roared as he stepped forwards, his combi-bolter
barking as the injured warrior tried to push himself to his feet. Three wraiths appeared around him
like looming spectres of death, their arms raised, poised for the kill.
The Coryphaus took another step towards the fallen warrior, but a hand on his arm halted him.
“Coryphaus, we must leave this place,” said Burias, his eyes glittering like molten silver.
With a snarl, Kol Badar shook off the Icon Bearer’s hand, but nodded his head.
“The gods be with you, Enkil,” he said, firing a final burst towards the gathered wraiths as they
killed the warrior. He turned and moved as swiftly as his armour allowed him, passing the rearguard
walking steadily backwards, fire barking from their weapons.
Marduk ran ahead of the Anointed warriors, unencumbered by the bulky Terminator armour
they wore, and the corridor gave way to a vast open area. Steps rose to a large circular dais that
dominated the room, surrounded by dozens of columns glowing with green hieroglyphs. A blacksided
pyramid stood in the centre of the dais, a miniature replica of the structure they were within,
some ten metres in height.
He scanned left and right as he ran, seeking out any sign of the enemy, and he leapt up the steps
and onto the circular dais. He circled and realised that dozens of corridors similar to the one he had
just exited, branched off this large, circular room, spaced evenly around the perimeter. Darkness,
impenetrable even to his eyes, was beyond these corridors, but he had the impression that they all
led back up towards the surface. Everything was perfectly symmetrical and it made sense that none
of these corridors led further down. The circular room rose up high into darkness—no ceiling could
be seen—and the cylindrical open space projected straight up what Marduk guessed was the centre
of the structure.
He approached the central pyramid warily, weapons ready. It began to silently rise, green light
spilling from beneath it. Whatever mechanism or sorcery lifted the massive weight was powerful
indeed and the smooth black pyramid rose high into the air, steadily and silently. He realised that it
was not a pyramid at all, but rather was an immense diamond shape, and he squinted against the
green glare that spilled from beneath its bulk, his bolt pistol scanning for movement.
“The gateway to the ancients,” breathed Jarulek as he came up beside Marduk. There was
nothing holding or supporting the giant, black diamond shape as it rose, neither above nor below. It
lifted higher and higher into the vast empty space above them, hanging suspended in the air.
The Coryphaus entered the room, Burias at his side, and Marduk’s eyes narrowed.
“We hold here. We are right where we are meant to be,” ordered Jarulek.
