The pair of unholy warriors stalked warily around the edge of the pit. Curved walls rose up
around the platform, rising high into the air above. The floor gave way a metre before the wall and it
fell down into darkness. They walked carefully around the ring of stone towards the pulsating light
throbbing from an adjacent chamber.
A short, enclosed passageway linked the two rooms, and the Word Bearers stepped along it
warily. Marduk was uneasy, but it was good to feel solid walls on each side rather than an empty
expanse. The second chamber was small and its glossy, black walls reflected the glaring, green light
of the glowing object suspended in mid-air in the centre of the room. Pulsing light spilled from it as
it spun slowly, floating above the tip of a metre-high black pyramid set in the floor. Light rose in a
shaft from the tip of the pyramid, encasing the spinning orb in its beam.
It was a captivating piece of mechanical artistry of utterly alien design, and it revolved slowly.
Its centre was a glowing ball of harnessed energy, around which revolved a series of metal rings that
spun in all directions around the sphere in a complex weave. The rings overlapped and swung
around the glowing centre of the sphere, forming intricate and mesmerising patterns. Marduk could
not be certain exactly how many rotating rings there were and he saw that glowing, alien
hieroglyphs shone across their flat surfaces. He thought he could see something solid within the ball
of energy, but the light was too intense for him to be sure.
He was pulled away from the fascinating object by a hand on his shoulder and he snapped his
gaze away, a dull pain in his head.
“Do not look too closely,” warned Jarulek. “It will ensnare you.”
Marduk nodded, his temples throbbing.
“This is the object you have come to find,” he said finally.
“It is. This is the artefact spoken of in the third book of the Oraculata Noctis.”
Marduk’s eyes widened.
“And with the Nexus Arrangement one shall wield great force, and he shall open and close the
portals to the netherworld and become Gatemaster,” quoted Marduk. “You believe that this is the…
the Nexus Arrangement?”
“It is,” said Jarulek, his eyes alight with faith and passion. “And long have I waited for its
discovery.”
“The Nexus Arrangement is the tool, it is said, that will usher in a new age of destruction. But it
is unclear about the destruction of what, or of whom.”
“It is the same as any weapon. It has no will of its own, but is directed by he who would use it. A
bolt-gun is indiscriminate in who it kills, the one who pulls the trigger is the killer. It is a holy
weapon to those who use it as such and it is a tool of the great enemy.
“But this… this is something far more potent. With this, we will be able to strike at our enemies
without fear of reprisal.”
“Open and close the portals to the netherworld?”
“That’s right, my First Acolyte,” laughed Jarulek. “Entire systems could have the warp closed
off to them, allowing nothing to pass in or out of the region. Imagine it: systems unable to receive
reinforcements, communications, supplies, munitions. Imagine, if you will, if this were activated
near ancient Terra,” said Jarulek, an evil grin upon his face. “Terra itself, closed to the warp, the
cursed light of the False Emperor effectively kept in shadow, his ships, blind and lost in the turmoil
of the Immaterium…”
“This could bring about the end of the Imperium.” Marduk breathed, awe and lust in his soul.
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“And it is foretold that it may only be removed when in the presence of a master and an
apprentice, holy warriors of Lorgar both. Our being here was prophesied and now that prophecy is
complete.”
The Dark Apostle whispered an entreaty to the dark powers and reached his hands slowly
forwards, into the light projecting up from the top of the pyramid, reaching towards the revolving
sphere. Instantly the light from the pyramid dimmed, plunging the room into darkness, but for the
green light emanating from the glowing sphere.
Holding his breath, Marduk watched as the Dark Apostle’s hands neared the spinning rings,
reaching underneath the orb to cup it. The spinning rings began to slow. Each pulse of light was
timed with the revolutions of the rings. There were seven rings, he now saw as they slowed to a
standstill, and they seemed to melt together, their edges merging, so that within seconds all that
remained was what appeared to be a solid sphere of dark metal. The green hieroglyphs faded away
and darkness descended. The blackness was not complete, for now that the glare of the room had
faded, a dim light could be seen emanating from the pit in the adjacent chamber, where the scarabs
had retreated.
Jarulek lifted the metal orb out from where it hovered above the black pyramid, awe upon his
face.
It was the size of grown man’s heart and he cradled it in his hands like a newborn child.
Marduk felt greed and desire rise within him. He licked his lips and toyed with the activation
rune of his chainsword as he stared at his master. As the Dark Apostle had said, the prophecy had
been fulfilled.
A flicker of movement in the corner of his eyes drew his attention and he spun towards it.
A dark shape was rising from the circular pit in the adjacent chamber and Marduk thumbed the
activation rune of his chainsword, snarling. His gazed shifted between Jarulek, who was focused on
the sphere in his hands, and the rising shadow that blocked their retreat.
The shape was roughly humanoid, though it was covered in thousands of the metallic scarabs, or
more correctly it was formed from them. They skittered over the humanoid torso, rising slowly and
silently from the pit, their body mass creating the shape of a man.
“Jarulek,” he hissed. The eyes of the Dark Apostle flashed with outrage that he dare use his
name, but then he too saw the rising shape.
As they watched, the skittering bugs came to rest as they aligned in their appropriate positions,
and their bodies merged, like droplets of water that were sucked together to form a greater mass.
Thousands of metallic insects blurred together, their individual shapes and limbs moulding like
liquid metal to form the immaculate and perfect form of a skeletal torso, gleaming silver.
Black, carapaced scarabs gave up their physical uniqueness, forming a black chest-plate over the
silver ribs of the cadaverous, ancient lord rising up out of the light below. A golden sun gleamed on
the centre of the black, lustrous armour plate, golden lines representing the sun’s rays spilling from
it. The corpse-machine’s head was down, its chin lowered, and its eye sockets were dark and
hollow.
A long-hafted weapon was formed in the creature’s metallic hands, as hundreds of scarabs
gripped each other with claw and mandible to form a solid shape. They blurred as they melted
together, creating an arcane and impressively sized weapon, a pair of curving blades at each end of a
long shaft.
Marduk and Jarulek raised their weapons as one, the Dark Apostle supporting the heavy weight
of his archaic bolter on his forearm, the orb still held in his hand. They unleashed a salvo of barking
shots towards the forming corpse-machine. Bolts smashed into its gleaming, silver skull, blasting
chunks of metal away, and others caused chips of black stone to crack from its chest-plate.
These pieces of metal and stone landed on the black, glossy surface of the floor and immediately
returned to their metallic scarab forms. They skittered about for a second before launching
themselves into the air, wafer-thin metallic wings clicking out. They hovered over the deathly
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machine before settling on the damage done by the guns of the holy Word Bearer warriors. The
metallic insects disappeared as they melted into the metal body of their master, leaving no
appearance of the damage that had been caused.
“The Undying One,” said Jarulek.
A scarab with a gleaming, golden carapace skittered over the skull of the forming creature, and it
melted to become a shining circlet upon its forehead, glittering with intricate, alien line work. It was
an alien yet clearly regal device, and Marduk was left in no doubt that this was some lord of the
undead, living machines.
Swarms of smaller insects, some barely large enough for the eye to discern, glided over the
silver bones of the creature and blurred together, forming a semi-opaque, wafer-thin, billowing
shroud that whipped around the skeletal form. This cloak had a dark, metallic sheen as if it had been
woven of infinitely fine mesh, and it shimmered like liquid metal. It fluttered as if caught in a
breeze, though there was no movement of air. From beneath the deep hood, the darkness of the
creature’s eye sockets began to glow a baleful green and it raised its chin to look upon the
interlopers trespassing on its ancient realm. A feeling of dread washed over Marduk. He gritted his
sharp teeth in anger at the unwelcome and uncommon feeling.
The creature rose higher out of the pit, accompanied by a rhythmic humming noise, and the light
beneath it grew stronger, throwing its skull into deeper shadow beneath its billowing shroud. Rather
than ending in hips and legs, the metallic spinal column of the creature merged into a bulky shape
that was not dissimilar to the armoured carapace of one of the diminutive scarabs, though on a
colossal scale. Thousands of teeming insects scrambled over each other and moulded together to
form this lower body, and eight barbed legs hanging beneath the bulk of its armour took shape. The
light filling the room came from beneath this carapace, shining out below it and throwing its upper
body into gloom.
The creature rose into the air, hovering above the open pit as it awoke, its silver, insect legs
curling and clicking beneath it, the humanoid torso flexing as the ancient, unliving being rolled its
shoulders. It did not move in the same manner as the skeletal machines guarding the upper chambers
of the pyramid. Where they were mechanical and jerky in movement, this creature was fluid and
supple, its limbs moving smoothly and in perfect balance.
It spun the staff before it, the twin blades humming through the air. It seemed ignorant or
uncaring of the Word Bearers as it went through a series of lithe movements with the double-headed
blade, spinning the haft of the weapon around in its metallic hands with consummate ease.
Intent on the monstrous creature, Marduk failed to see Jarulek raising his ornate bolter towards
his head.
“And this, my First Acolyte, is where your education comes to an end,” breathed the Dark
Apostle, and pulled the trigger.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Marduk threw himself to the side, servo-muscles straining, but he could not avoid the burst of fire at
such close range. The mass-reactive tips of the bolt-rounds impacted with the side of his helmet as
he dodged and their explosions tore the right side of his helmet and face apart in a gory mess of
blood and sparks.
He fell, smashed to the ground by the impact. The inside of his helmet was awash with blood
and he ripped it from his head, hurling it away from him as he staggered backwards on the floor.
He could feel that the left side of his skull was shattered and he could not see from his left eye.
He felt fragments of bone and tooth in his mouth, and he spat them to the floor amid blood and
saliva. He tongued the inside of his mouth and felt that the teeth on his left side had been shattered,
and where he should have felt the inside of his cheek, he felt nothing. The flesh had been completely
blown away. He heard a chuckle.
“‘One shall fall, he of lesser faith, he unmarked by godly touch,’” Jarulek said. “Did you think
that I did not notice your treacherous intent, whelp? Your usefulness passed as soon as you fulfilled
your role in the prophecy.”
Marduk blinked blood from his working eye. He scrabbled on the ground around him, but
realised that he had lost his grip on his bolt pistol and it lay out of his reach. He felt dizzy and
disoriented.
Jarulek stood with his bolter pointed at Marduk. The metal sphere was still in one hand and the
bolter was supported upon his forearm. He stared down the stylised daemonic maw that was the
barrel of the archaic weapon and Marduk knew that he was too far from the Dark Apostle to be able
to rush him without taking a full clip of bolts.
“What damned prophecy?” he spat, his jaw not working properly, spraying blood.
“Why, the Prophecy of Jarulek, dear Marduk: the prophecy that appears on only one page: my
flesh, the prophecy that I have lived with since the fall of the Warmaster. The prophecy says that
only one of us will leave this place and I intend that to be me.”
Marduk tensed himself to leap. He wiped the blood from his face quickly with his free hand and
he saw Jarulek’s eyes widen in shock.
A searing beam of green light slammed into the back of the Dark Apostle and ripped through
him, boring a fist-sized hole from abdomen to lower back.
The bolter in Jarulek’s hand barked as Marduk leapt from the floor, bolts ricocheting around the
chamber. With a roar of pure hatred, Marduk swung the blade of his chainsword towards the
staggering Dark Apostle, but Jarulek managed to bring his arm up before him and swipe the blade
away, though it tore a chunk of armour and flesh from his arm. Marduk felt the faint presence of the
daemon Borhg’ash rouse within the weapon as it tasted the sacrosanct blood, and it lent him
strength.
“The mark! This cannot be!” screamed Jarulek, his eyes locked to Marduk’s forehead, where
pain still seared him.
Another blast of green light speared towards the pair and Marduk rolled to the side to avoid it,
coming to his feet quickly, positioning himself so he could see both enemies with his limited vision.
The skeletal, ancient xenos lord was hovering towards them, its dark shroud whipping around it
furiously. The tips of its double-bladed staff were glowing with power and it thrust one end
forwards, a searing beam lancing from the weapon. Marduk swayed to the side, the blast just
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grazing against his chest-plate, searing a groove along it as the super-hard ceramite was stripped
away.
Bolts impacted with his chest a millisecond later, slamming him back against the wall. He
snarled, his attention swinging towards Jarulek.
“I’m going to rip you apart, you whoreson,” he spat.
