“Not the way one should speak to his holy leader. Mark or no mark, you are dying here,” said
Jarulek. Seeing movement, he turned and fired a burst towards the advancing alien machinecreature,
the bolts making its head reel back, but not slowing its advance.
Marduk rolled as another green lance of light streaked towards him, and came up in front of the
Dark Apostle. His chainsword roared and he ripped it up in a murderous arc as he rose, carving it
between Jarulek’s legs. Pre-empting the attack, but with nothing to defend against it, the Dark
Apostle released his grip on his bolter and grabbed the whirring chain-blades with his hand, halting
its progress before it struck.
Blood and ceramite sprayed as his hand was ripped apart, but the move had taken Marduk by
surprise, and the Dark Apostle slammed a kick into the outside of his knee. The leg collapsed
beneath him. Jarulek followed the attack with a thundering elbow that struck Marduk in the head,
cracking the bone, and he fell heavily.
Switching the precious sphere into the crook of his other, now handless, arm, Jarulek swept up
his discarded bolter with his left hand and fired towards the closing skeletal alien, hefting the
kicking weapon with difficulty in one hand. Bolts hammered into the creature’s arm, sending its
next shot wide. The Dark Apostle hurled the bolter aside, its ammo spent, and pulled his crozius
arcanum from where it hung on his hip, the spiked head of the holy weapon crackling with energy as
it came to life. He sprang directly towards the hovering, monstrous creature, a curse on his lips.
Marduk scrambled to his feet, swept up the Dark Apostle’s discarded bolter and slammed a new
clip into its base. He looked up to see the hovering, skeletal machine fire a blast of green energy
towards Jarulek, who swayed to the side with nigh on preternatural speed, and leapt forwards with a
shout, swinging the crozius towards the foe.
The enemy lowered itself towards the ground, so that it hovered less than a metre above the
floor, its claws clicking and flexing beneath it. Its shimmering shroud whipped around it and it
flashed out with its double-bladed staff, blocking Jarulek’s attack with a screech of sparks and
crackling energy. The other end of the staff swept around, its long curved blade slicing towards his
throat. The Dark Apostle swayed beneath the lightning quick repost and swung his crozius again.
The heavy blow was deflected easily and he stepped to the side, moving further around the flank of
the creature and closer to escape.
Marduk broke into a run, invoking the gods of Chaos, and fired the bolter one-handed. If the
Dark Apostle escaped then his life was forfeit. The bolts slammed into Jarulek’s lower back,
pitching him forwards. He roared in despair as he lost his grip on the metal sphere, and it flew
through the air away from him.
The hovering corpse-machine swung its weapon in a wide arc as the Dark Apostle fell, the blow
carving through the chest armour just below the fused ribcage. Blood sprayed from the wound and
from the blade as it passed through the Dark Apostle’s body and out the other side, severing his
torso. Jarulek flailed frantically for the spilled sphere as he fell to the ground in two pieces, his
lifeblood flooding the floor beneath him.
Marduk leapt, landing with his right foot on the carapace of the enemy and hacked his
chainsword into its head. Chunks of metal were torn loose by the whirring chainblade, turning
almost instantly into tiny, metallic flying scarabs, and the death’s-head visage of the foe was
snapped back by the force of the blow. Pushing off with his other foot, Marduk leapt through the air,
his good eye focused on the falling sphere, and his hand reaching out vainly to catch it.
The metal ball slipped beyond his reach and hit the ground with a heavy, reverberating thud. It
did not bounce, but began to roll straight towards the pit from which the cursed alien creature had
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emerged. Marduk hit the ground and slid after the ancient artefact. His hand closed on it just as it
rolled clear of the edge and the unnatural weight of it almost took him with it.
He saw Jarulek’s eyes glaring at him, filled with bitterness and hatred. The Dark Apostle clawed
his way towards him, pulling his legless torso across the blood-slick floor.
“‘He unmarked by godly touch,’” spat the Dark Apostle. “You deceived me, Marduk.
Somehow, you kept that mark concealed.”
Jarulek was silenced as his head was skewered upon the blade of the massive skeletal creature. It
lifted his severed torso high into the air and the dark crozius slipped from dead fingers to the floor.
The Dark Apostle was hurled through the air, thudding wetly against the curving wall of the
chamber. He slid down its slick surface and disappeared into the abyssal darkness.
Marduk attached his daemon-blade to his waist and staggered forward to retrieve the fallen
crozius. He raised it before him and it crackled to life, arcing blue electricity shimmering over its
spiked head.
He felt the baleful gaze of the enemy fall towards him and he turned and ran.
Marduk staggered from the gateway, falling to his knees, the ice-cold sphere cradled under his arm.
Had the Undying One allowed him to leave its realm? No, he told himself, my faith brought me
back from that ungodly place.
Gunfire blared around him and he stumbled up the black steps to the top of the dais. The
Anointed, their ranks more than halved in number, had fallen back, forming an ever-tightening
circle of warriors.
Kol Badar spun as he saw the First Acolyte rise from the steps, and took a few paces forward,
lightning crackling across the talons of his power claw, but he slowed his advance as he drew
nearer.
“Where is the Dark Apostle?” he thundered.
“Dead,” spat Marduk. “He sacrificed himself that I may escape to lead the Host.”
“That is a lie!” roared Kol Badar, stepping forward to smash Marduk with his powerful fist. He
halted his movement as Marduk lifted the crozius up between them.
“The Dark Apostle gifted me this, his sacred crozius arcanum,” said Marduk, his voice raised
loudly to carry to all the Anointed. “He told me to lead the Host to Sicarus, to see me sworn in as
Dark Apostle. He sacrificed himself that I could escape with that which we have fought so hard, my
brothers, to attain. Come,” he said, as more of the Word Bearers were cut down by the scything
green flashes of the xenos weaponry, “we must vacate this world.”
Kol Badar clenched his fist but did not move. Did he know that Jarulek had always intended to
see him dead, pondered Marduk? Most probably, he surmised.
“The Host must honour the Dark Apostle’s last wishes, else his sacrifice has been made in vain,”
said Marduk loudly, a smile curling the right side of his mouth. The left side of his face was a mess
of torn and missing flesh. “Come, Coryphaus, we must leave here.”
Kol Badar’s face twisted in anger and hatred, and he lashed out violently with his power claw,
the talons curling around Marduk’s neck, crashing the ceramite of his gorget and lifting the smaller
Word Bearer up into the air before him like a child. The muscles of his neck straining against the
immense grip, Marduk still managed a crooked smile.
“Just like our encounter upon the cursed moon so many years past, Coryphaus, “and all because
I killed your worthless, heathen blood-brother.” Marduk’s face turned red as Kol Badar tightened his
grip. “He was a worthless dog, not fit to be named Word Bearer,” gasped Marduk. “He brought
nothing but shame to the noble Host. Lorgar himself would have done as I did that day.”
“Your words are poison. They mean nothing to me,” snarled Kol Badar, exerting even more
force, hearing the enhanced muscles and vertebrae of the First Acolyte groan in resistance to his
pressure.
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“You would try to kill me here, Kol Badar?” snarled Marduk, his voice strained.
“You wouldn’t be able to stop me,” growled the big warrior.
“No,” said Marduk, with difficulty, “but he would.”
Kol Badar glanced to his side to see Burias-Drak’shal’s hulking form beside him, staring at him.
Great horns rose from the possessed warrior’s forehead and his corded muscles were tense. His
massive clawed hands clenched and unclenched as he stared at the Coryphaus with glittering,
daemonic eyes filled with bestial rage.
The possessed warrior rose to his full, towering height, his chest rising and falling heavily as he
drew breath, steam billowing from his flared nostrils. He was quivering with anticipation for the kill,
veins bulging within his hyper-tense muscles.
“You would stand against me, Icon Bearer?” growled Kol Badar.
“I would not stand against the holy leader of the Host,” replied Burias-Drak’shal, forming the
words with some difficulty, his jaw having altered in form to contain his thick, tusk-like teeth.
“And this is not he!” thundered the Coryphaus.
“The Dark Apostle entrusted me with his holy writ,” said Marduk. “Go against me and forfeit
your life. Choose your words carefully.”
The Coryphaus was silent. The sound of bolters firing echoed from the glossy black walls,
accompanied by the death groans of falling Anointed warriors.
“We cannot leave this place without the Dark Apostle.” Kol Badar said, at last.
“He is dead!” snarled Marduk.
“Then we must bear his holy body back to Sicarus,” roared Kol Badar, his grip around Marduk’s
neck tightening. Burias-Drak’shal hissed and grasped Kol Badar’s arm, his claws digging deep,
cutting into the thick armour. Their strength was evenly matched.
“You would dare put hands upon me.” Kol Badar growled. Burias-Drak’shal snarled, digging his
talons in deeper, blood pooling around them and flowing over the Coryphaus’s sacred Terminator
armour.
“And you would dare defy my command?” asked Marduk. “Your life is on tenterhooks, Kol
Badar. We leave this place, now. Choose your path. Follow me, or die here in this tomb. Your name
will be cursed by the Legion for time immaterial, a traitor to the Legion and a traitor to Lorgar.”
Kol Badar stared at Marduk, who returned the glare, staring back at himself in the eyes of the
Terminator’s helmet. “Choose swiftly, Kol Badar. The warriors of the Legion are dying.”
“This is not over,” growled Kol Badar, releasing his grip around Marduk’s neck with a shove.
“Remove your hands, Icon Bearer.” Burias-Drak’shal looked to Marduk, who nodded, and the
possessed warrior released his grip, blood upon his talons.
Kol Badar swung away, shouting orders.
“We leave, now!” he roared. “Form up!”
“Your forehead,” growled Burias-Drak’shal. “You bear the mark of Lorgar.”
The burning pain on his forehead was as nothing to the pain covering the rest of his head, but it
was worth the feeling of satisfaction that he felt as he looked upon the crozius in his hands.
“Let us leave this forsaken world,” said Marduk. “It has served its purpose.”
At Marduk’s psychic call, the Infidus Diabolus returned to the shattered wreck of Tanakreg, tearing
a rift in reality as it emerged from the warp to meet the Thunderhawks, Stormbirds and other landing
craft streaming up from the planet’s surface.
The Imperial ships that had remained in orbit around the planet moved to engage, though they
were sluggish to respond to its appearance. Their astropaths’ senses were dulled by the warp field
projected by the Gehemehnet and they had no warning as to the strike cruiser’s sudden appearance.
The Imperial ships kept a respectful distance from the field of unbridled Chaos energy that the tower
continued to project into the outer atmosphere. Flights of fighters swarmed from the bowels of the
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Infidus Diabolus to slow the enemy’s approach, though the Chaos ships were outnumbered and
outclassed by those of the Imperial Navy.
Several transportation craft were destroyed as they sought to dock with the Infidus Diabolus and
the powerful strike cruiser took damage from incoming torpedoes fired from an Imperial Dictator
class warship.
The Host had suffered heavy casualties and many of the holy suits of armour worn by the
Anointed had been lost in the xenos pyramid. The revered religious leader of the Host had fallen,
and long would be the requiem services dedicated to his honour. The First Acolyte, mourning the
loss of his master and spiritual guide, would lead these ceremonies of lamentation and grievance.
The Infidus Diabolus returned to the roiling seas of the Ether, forging a path towards the Eye of
Terror and Sicarus, the world claimed by the Daemon-Primarch Lorgar, and the religious seat of the
Council of Apostles. There Marduk would face trial, to prove his worth to be embraced into the fold
and become a true Dark Apostle of the Word.
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EPILOGUE
The twitching magos was held against the back wall of the cell, deep within the Infidus Diabolus.
His legs had been sheared off above the knees, and he hung suspended by dozens of chains. His
wasted arms, covered with cancers and black malignancies, were outstretched and clamped with
spiked manacles attached to further chains. Those arms had not been moved or utilised for centuries,
and they were little more than canker ridden, skin-covered bones. They had broken as they had been
pulled away from their position across the magos’s chest, where they had been held unmoving for
countless centuries.
Marduk moved beneath the sole, flickering glow-globe that buzzed overhead. The entire left side
of his face was covered in augmetics and the skin around these bionics was puckered and a deathly
shade of blue. His left eye was an angry, lidless, red orb, the pupil slender and slitted like a cat’s. He
had rejected the bionic eye replacements that the Chirumeks had offered, instead demanding this
daemonic flesh hybrid, and he was pleased with the chirurgeons’ efforts.
The sparking stubs of four mechanical servo-arms flailed spasmodically from the priest’s
shoulders and the remnants of mechadendrites quivered. Most had been ripped from the magos’s
spine and those that remained were little more than shorn off, useless protuberances. The
haemoncolyte that had been attached by umbilical tubes to the machine priest had been severed
from him and its repulsive, diminutive form opened up by the chirurgeons for study. It had squirmed
as their knives had cut into its cankerous flesh. Large bell jars filled with viscous liquid protruded
from the hunched back of the magos, though several of them had been smashed open, leaking
