BACKLIST

MoreWarhammer40,000storiesfromBlackLibrary

TheBeastArises1:IAMSLAUGHTER2:PREDATOR,PREY

3:THEEMPEROREXPECTS4:THELASTWALL5:THRONEWORLD

6:ECHOESOFTHELONGWAR7:THEHUNTFORVULKAN8:THEBEASTMUSTDIE9:WATCHERSINDEATH

10:THELASTSONOFDORN11:SHADOWOFULLANOR

12:THEBEHEADING

SpaceMarineBattles

WAROFTHEFANGASpaceMarineBattlesbook,containingthenovellaTheHuntfor

MagnusandthenovelBattleoftheFangTHEWORLDENGINEAnAstralKnightsnovel

DAMNOSAnUltramarinescollection

DAMOCLES

ContainstheWhiteScars,RavenGuardandUltramarinesnovellasBloodOath,BrokenSword,BlackLeviathanandHunter’sSnare

OVERFIENDContainstheWhiteScars,RavenGuardandSalamandersnovellas

Stormseer,ShadowCaptainandForgeMasterARMAGEDDON

ContainstheBlackTemplarsnovelHelsreachandnovellaBloodandFire

LegendsoftheDarkMillennium

ASTRAMILITARUMAnAstraMilitarumcollection

ULTRAMARINESAnUltramarinescollection

FARSIGHTATauEmpirenovellaSONSOFCORAX

ARavenGuardcollectionSPACEWOLVES

ASpaceWolvescollectionVisitblacklibrary.comforthefullrangeofnovels,novellas,audio

dramasandQuickReads,alongwithmanyotherexclusiveproducts

CONTENTS

CoverBacklistTitlePageWarhammer40,000ProloguePartOneOneTwoThreeFourPartTwoOneTwoThreeFourFivePartThreeOneTwoThreeFourFive

SixSevenEightNineTenElevenTwelveThirteenFourteenFifteenSixteenPartFourOneTwoThreeFourFiveSixSevenEightEpilogueAbouttheAuthorAnExtractfrom‘ShroudofNight’ABlackLibraryPublicationeBooklicense

WARHAMMER40,000Itisthe41stmillennium.Formorethanahundredcenturiesthe

EmperorhassatimmobileontheGoldenThroneofEarth.Heisthemasterofmankindbythewillofthegods,andmasterofamillion

worldsbythemightofhisinexhaustiblearmies.HeisarottingcarcasswrithinginvisiblywithpowerfromtheDarkAgeofTechnology.HeistheCarrionLordoftheImperiumforwhomathousandsoulsare

sacrificedeveryday,sothathemaynevertrulydie.

Yeteveninhisdeathlessstate,theEmperorcontinueshiseternalvigilance.Mightybattlefleetscrossthedaemon-infestedmiasmaofthe

warp,theonlyroutebetweendistantstars,theirwaylitbytheAstronomican,thepsychicmanifestationoftheEmperor’swill.Vastarmiesgivebattleinhisnameonuncountedworlds.Greatestamongst

HissoldiersaretheAdeptusAstartes,theSpaceMarines,bio-engineeredsuper-warriors.Theircomradesinarmsarelegion:theAstraMilitarumandcountlessplanetarydefenceforces,theever-

vigilantInquisitionandthetech-priestsoftheAdeptusMechanicustonameonlyafew.Butforalltheirmultitudes,theyarebarelyenoughtoholdofftheever-presentthreatfromaliens,heretics,mutants–and

worse.

Tobeamaninsuchtimesistobeoneamongstuntoldbillions.Itistoliveinthecruellestandmostbloodyregimeimaginable.Thesearethetalesofthosetimes.Forgetthepoweroftechnologyandscience,forsomuchhasbeenforgotten,nevertobere-learned.Forgetthepromiseofprogressandunderstanding,forinthegrimdarkfuturethereisonlywar.Thereisnopeaceamongstthestars,onlyaneternityofcarnage

andslaughter,andthelaughterofthirstinggods.

PROLOGUEBORDERSOF

THESEGMENTUMOBSCURUS

Sheisfour.Itistimetolearn.Herfatherliftsherintothenightsky.Onotherplanets,thevisionabovewouldbeavelvet-blacksky, thecoldwhite lightof ten thousandstars,or thestrangebeautyofacrescentmoon.ButsheisCadian,andtheskyisnotdarkandstar-studded;itglowswiththeswirling,luridbruiseoftheEyeofTerrorthatstaresbackdownlikeacyclops’orb.Theonlytwinklecomesnotfromstars,butfromreflected sunlight catching the adamantium plates of low-orbit defenceplatforms.Shestarts to tense.Sometimes theeye ispurple,sometimesgreen,sometimesdarkerpatchesofunnamedcolour.Herfather’svoicebringsherback.‘That is the Eye of Terror. The prison of our enemy,’ he hisses. ‘We are thepadlockthatkeepsthemtrapped.Thatiswhytheyhateus.’‘Allofus?’sheasks.‘All,’hesays.Thereisalongpauseasshestaresupwards.‘EvenMother?’‘Yes,’hetellsher,‘evenMother.’There is a pause. She tastes blood in her throat. Shewipes her nose and her

fingercomesawaysmearedwithred.ShecannotstopstaringintotheEyeeventhoughshefeelssick.Sheknowsthis isa test thatshemustpass,andshewillnotgiveup.‘Doeshehateme?’sheasks,sniffingthebloodback.‘Yes.TheDespoilerhatesyou.’Thereisanotherpause.‘Hewantstotakeourworldfromus?’Hisvoiceisclosetoherear.Shecanfeel thebreathofhiswordsonherskinandinthetangledcurlsofherhair.Heispassingonwhathelearnedasachild.‘TheDespoilerwantsourworldtoburn.’Vomitrisesinherthroat.Sheswallowsthebileback,andstaresdeepintothedarkestpitsof the iris as if looking fora face there, abeing towhomshecanaddress herwords.At first she sees nothingbut then– there! – in the darkestpatchesofpurplelight,thereisaplumeofpaleclouds.‘Whatdoyousee?’herfatherdemands,butshecannotspeakasshegaspsforbreath.Hisfingersaretight.‘Speak,child.Havefaith!TheEmperorprotects!’Thebreathcomeswithasuddenshockasbloodbeginstodripfromhernostrils.‘A face!’ she says, her voice beginning to breakwith fear. She squirms for amoment.Shewantsthistostop,buthishandsarefirmonherarms,andheholdsherupforalittlelonger.‘ThatistheDespoiler!’hetellsherandliftsherhigherintotheair.‘Whatdoyouwanttosaytohim,whohatesusallandwantstoburnourworld?’Bloodbegins topour fromhernostrils.Shewill not look away.Shewill notgiveup.‘Never,’shesays.‘Icannothearyou.’‘Never!’shesays,louderthistime.‘Tellhim!’Thechildshoutsupintothenightsky.‘Never!Never!’The father brings his daughter down and holds her tight against the chestsectionsofhisflakarmour.‘Welldone,child,’hesaysandfeelsrelief.Itisnoteasytoexposeachildtosuchthings.Hewatcheshisdaughterwalkbacktotheirhab.HeisaCadianandafather.Hehasdonehisduty.Forher,thetruetestisyettocome.

PARTONETHESUMMONS

ONEORBITOVERCADIA

Belowthem,theplanetwaspoisedhalfinlightandhalfindarkness.MajorIsaiaBendiktcouldnottellifanewdaywascomingon,orifthenightwasfalling.HestoodwithWarmasterRyseandhisposseofcommandstaffonthe viewing platforms of the Fidelitas Vector and remembered how he’d leftCadiaovertwentyyearsbefore.In those twenty years, he’d had more than his fair share of benighted ice-worlds,void-moonsandjungleworldswithblood-suckingnanobesthatdroppedontoyoufromthebranchesabove.He’d seen the worst of the galaxy and now, looking down upon Cadia, herememberedhislastmomentsonhishomeworld.AyoungWhiteshield,withoutakilltohisname.

Bendikt’sfatherhadnevergotthechancetogooff-planet.Hewasoneoftheonein tenCadianShockTrooperswhose draft drew themas a territorial guard. Itwashis life tostayathomeandstandreadytoprotectCadia.Butwarhadnotcome,andthatuneventfulcareerwasashamethathaddiscolouredhislife.When the sixteen-year-old IsaiaBendiktdrewanoff-worlddrafthewasbothproudandenviousofhisson.Itwasahardthingforadourfathertoexpress,so

he’ddonewhatmanyfathershadbeforehim–boughtabottleofArcadyPrideandgotbothhimselfandBendiktdrunk.Bendiktrememberedthenightclearly.Theyhadbeensittingattheroundcamptablethatstoodinthemiddleof thesmallsub-habcentralroomoftheirhome.Hisfatherhaddrawnupthecampchairsandslammedthebottledownbetweenthem,settwoshotglassesonthetable.Hehadforcedasmileasheunscrewedthetop,crumpleditupinhishandandthrewitbackoverhisshoulder,where ithadrattled in thecornerof theroom.Hismotherhad left thema fewplatesofboiledgrox-slabandcabbageon thetable.Bendikthadtriedtolinehisstomachashisfatherpouredthemashotglasseach.‘Here,’he’dsaidandheldoutthebrimmingglass.They’dtappedtherimsagainsteachotherandtippedtheglasseshigh.Shotbyshot they’d drunk and slowly knocked the bottle back.When themuster bellrangtherewasonlyalittleamasecinthebottomofthebottle.‘Toyourfirstkill!’his father had slurred. His mother, a thin, worn, earnest-looking woman, hadjoinedinwiththelasttoast.

Itwas a shortwalk to themuster point,where otherWhiteshieldswere beingloaded onto rail trucks, their apprehensive faces staring out from under theirCadian-patternhelmets.All the tracks ledstraight to the landing fieldsoutsideKasrTyrok.Bendiktandhisparentspushedthroughthecrowdstofindhistruck.Bothhismotherandhisfatherhadlastwordsforhim,thoughhewasdamnedifhecouldrememberthem.Hewasonlysixteenandsodrunkhecouldbarelystand.Therewerenotears.ItwaspoorformtoshowsadnesswhenaCadianwassenttofight.It was part of the rhythm of life: birth, training, conscription, death. It wasnaturalthatayoungWhiteshieldwouldgoandkilltheenemiesoftheImperium.Bendikthadimaginedhimselfmanytimestakingthestraightroutesouth,andnever seeinghishomeagain.Beforeclimbingaboard,hecheckedhimselfonemoretimetomakesurethatinhisdrunkenstatehehadnotforgottenanything.Hehadboots,webbing,jacket,belt,combatknife,lasrifle,threebatterypacks,ImperialPrimerinhisleftbreastpocket,watercanteeninhisright.Hepulledinadeepbreath.Hewasready,hetoldhimself,tofaceanythingthegalaxycouldthrowathim.‘So,’Bendikt said.They saidgoodbye toone another, andhismotherbrieflyembracedhimandstuffedapacketoffoldedbrownpaperintohisjacketpocket.

‘Grox-jerky,’shewhispered.Shewasatoughwoman,broughtuponaplanetwheretheonlytradewaswar,andlittlegiventoexpressionsofemotion.‘Iwanttothankbothofyouforgivingmelife.IpromiseyouIwillbeallthataCadian should,’ he said. Itwas a speech he had prepared, but being drunk hestumbledonhiswordsandleftmuchofitout.Thenhesalutedand turned toclimbaboard the truck.Helookedout towavegoodbyetohisparents,butdarknesswasfallingandtheyhadalreadyturnedforhome.Thatwas the lastBendikthadever seenorheardofhis family.For thenext twentyyears,otherGuardsmenhadbeenhisbrothers and sisters, and theEmperorhisfather.Bendiktfoundithardtorememberhisfather’sfacebuthadneverforgottenthehughis father hadgivenhim, and feelinghis father’s thick armswrap aroundhim,hisbroad,roughhandsonhisback.Hismother’svoicehadneverlefthim;hecouldrecallherwhispering‘grox-jerky’intohisear,andthosewordsstayedwithhim,andsomehowcametomean‘Lookafteryourself’,andeven‘Youarewell-loved,myson.’

AsCadiarevolvedbeneaththemWarmasterRyseputbothhandstothecarefullytooledbrassrailingsandleanedforward,hisbreathmistingalittleonthechillofthefoot-thickglass.Hewanted tomark thismomentwith somethingmomentous, yet poetic andmemorable. Something that could go in hismemoirswhen, and if, retirementcame.As if sensing itsmoment, theWarmaster’s servitor-scribe, an emaciatedbodywithaugmeticstylusrightarmandwaist-mountedscroll,shuffledforward,knockingafewothersycophantsoutoftheway.ThescribehadcomewiththetitleofWarmasterandRyseseemedtoratherlikehavinghiseverywordtakendownforposterity.AndnowthattherewasnomoreDeucalion Crusade for Ryse to lead, it had occurred to many of them thatperhapsRysemightnotbeaWarmastermuchlonger.Perhaps,manywerethinking,Ryse’sstarwasonthewane,anditwastimeforthemtofindonethatwasrising.Ryse coughed to clear his throat, then his bass-baritone rang out, ‘We havereturnedtoourmotherinhertimeofdirestneed.’Therewasmore,andBendiktthoughttheWarmaster’sspeechcouldhavebeenbetter, but the Warmaster finished with a flourish, like an Imperial preacherwaxing lyrical. ‘Men shall not say thatwe forgot our duty, nor thatwe forgot

fromwhencewecame.’Ashespoke,therewasthescratchofstylusonvellum,leavingatrailofpreciseminuscule,inneatlyjustifiedblocksoftext.Bendiktcouldnothelpreadingoverthescribe’sshoulderwhileRysepausedasifwaitingforittocatchup,lettingthewordsringthroughhishead.Bendiktlookedaway.TheWarmasterturned,andasifpickinghimoutfornotpayingdueattention,asked,‘Whatdoyouthink,MajorBendikt?’‘Shelookspeacefulenoughtome,’Bendiktstammered.Ryse smiled indulgently. ‘Yes.Cadia sent out the call andwe have returned.Her need has not been forgotten.’ Themotors of theWarmaster’s bionic armwhinedgentlyashepattedBendiktontheback.Nodoubthehadmeantthistobe a humangesture, butBendikt did not find the crude press ofmetal fingerscomforting.‘Howlonguntilwedisembark?’Ryseaskedathin,paleofficerwithashockofwhitehair.Theofficersnappedhisheelstogether.‘GovernorPorelskahassenthispersonalbargetobringyoudown,Warmaster.Sacramentumisbeingloadedontoitaswespeak.Assoonasitisstoweddown,Iwillletyouknow,sir.Thefreightcaptaindidnotthinkitwouldbemorethanafewhours.’Sacramentum was Ryse’s Leviathan. A brass-workedmarvel of gunnery andarmour and engineering that had spearheadedat least twoassaultson thehiveworldofOwwen.‘Good,’Rysesaid.‘Good.’Hewasoneofthosemenwholikedtofillsilenceswith his own voice. At that moment one of the adjutants touched theWarmaster’ssleeve.ThecommanderofabattalionofMordianshadarrivedonthe viewing deck. They were standing by the lift in a formal and uninvitinggroup,waitingforanintroduction.‘Ah!’RysesaidasifapassingchatwiththeMordianswasallhewantedintheworld,andnoddedtothemall.‘Excuseme,gentlemen.’

AsRyse’s entourage fell away only one otherman remained, staring down atCadia.Bendikttookhiminthroughthecornerofhiseye.Hewasafirst-degreegeneralfromhis epaulette, but hewore combatdrab, not dress uniform, andhadbothhandsplacedfirmlyonthebrassrailing,hisfistsclenchingitsotightlythathisknuckleshadgonewhite.Hisbootshadnotbeenpolishedsinceembarkation.Thereweremudsplatters

on thehemofhis coat anddriedmud stainsonhisknees aswell.Thatwas adetailworthyofnote:generalsdidn’toftenkneel,nevermindinmud.Bendikt couldn’t hold himself back. ‘Excuseme, sir,’ he ventured. ‘Are youGeneralCreed?’Themanturnedtohim.Hewasbroadandbull-necked,withclose-shavenhair.His eyeswerehardand intense.Bendikt coloured. ‘Sorry. Imean, areyou theGeneralCreed?’‘Well, there are four generals named Creed last I counted.’ The otherman’seyeshadamischievoustwinkle.‘GeneralUrsarkarCreed?’‘Yes.IamoneoftwowhosenameisUrsarkarCreed.Theother,afineoldmanofthreehundredandtwentyyears,hasretiredtothetrainingworldofKatak.Ispentsixmonthswithhimthere,workingwithCatachans.Goodbunch.GeneralUrsarkarCreedhad aparticularlygood stockof amasec, though I didn’t thinkmuchofhisstubs.Theywerealittletoorefinedforme.Ilikesomethingwithalittlemorepunch.’Creed’smouth almost smiled. ‘As he came first,he has the honour of beingplainGeneralUrsarkarCreed.BecauseIamthesecond,IamknownasUrsarkarE.Creed.’HeputoutahandandBendiktreturnedthehardgrip.‘Iamhonouredtomeetyou,’Bendiktsaid.Creedseemedamusedbytheword.‘Honoured?’‘Yes,’Bendiktsaid.‘Wewereinthesamedraft.’‘Werewenow?’‘Yes.IalwaysthoughtthatmycareerhadgonewelluntilIheardyouhadmadegeneral.Thefirstofourdraft.’Tomakegeneralbytheageoffortyyears,Terranstandard,wasafeatalmostunheardof.Once he’d got over his envy, he’d studied Creed and his tactics, and whenthey’dbeeninthesamewarzone,BendikthadfollowedCreed’scareerthroughmemosandregimentaldispatches.‘Howdo you feel? Imean, you’ve been predicting this recall for nearly twoyearsnow,’Bendiktsaid.Creedseemedimpressed,buttherewasnojoyforhiminbeingright.‘Ihave.You’reright.Itwouldhavebeenbetteriftherecallhadstartedtwoyearsearlier.’‘Andyouweredemotedforyourtroubles.’‘Onlypending investigation.Ryse–shouldIsay,WarmasterRyse–stuckbyme.’

‘IsthatbecauseyousavedthedayonRelionV?’Creed laughed.Hisbreath smelled faintlyof amasec.Creedwas also famousforhisprodigiousappetite for thebottle. ‘That’sprobablyhalf thereason.TheotherhalfisthatRyseisnofool.’There was a moment’s pause as Creed took in Bendikt’s uniform andregimentalbadge.‘YoumustbeMajorIsaiaBendiktoftheCadianOneHundredandFirst.TwiceawardedtheValorousUnitCitation.YouhaveoneofthemosthighlydecoratedtankregimentsinthewholeofCadia.Betweenyou,yourcrewhaswonsixSteelCrosses,fourSteelAquilaandtheOrderoftheEagle’sClaw.’Bendikt’scheekscolouredandhedidn’tknowwhattosay.‘Well,yes,sir.MyregimentpridesitselfonitsservicetotheGoldenThrone.’ThesmellofamasecgrewstrongerasCreedleanedinandspoketoBendiktinalow,confidentialvoice.‘DidyoueverthinkyouwouldmakeitbacktoCadiaalive?’Bendiktknewthestatisticsaswellasanyother:halfofallable-bodiedCadiansleft the planet to fight across the Imperium of Man but fewer than one in athousandofthoseeverreturned.Hebarelyneededtothink.‘Never.You?’Creed pursed his lips as his knuckles whitened again. Night was falling onCadiaandtheEyeofTerrorwasstartingtoglow.Therewasalongpause.Creedsmiled.‘Oh,I’vealwaysknownthatIwouldcomeback.’Bendikt did not know how to answer that. He looked down at their homeworld–greyandblueinthehalf-lightofhersun.‘AndyoureallythinkCadiaisindanger?’‘Theutmostdanger.’Creed’snostrilsflared.‘Thewholesectorhasbeenunderattackforyears.Plague.Treachery.Heresy.Weseealltheseprouddefences,butCadiaislikeakasrwhosewallshavealreadybeenundermined.’Bendiktwas lost forwords again.Theyboth lookedup to theviewingdomeabove their heads. In the darkness of space they could see the turret lights oforbital defences, floating gun-rigs and the bright engine flares of patrollingfrigatesandstub-noseddefencemonitors.‘Youreallythinkso?’‘Iknowso.’Creed smiledhumourlessly, andhis eyes flickeredbrieflyacrossthe room towhere a rather embarrassed-lookingRysewas trying to explain ajoke to the Mordian commander. ‘Our enemies have planned for this for athousand years.Maybemore.Andwe have grown complacent. Look.Ryse ismoreinterestedinlittlepleasantrieswiththosedreadfulMordiansthanplanningforthewar.CadianHighCommandisfullofmenlikehim.Theyhavenoidea

howpresent the threat is.Even theHighLordsofTerra suspect little, Iguess.TheCadianGateisinutmostdangeranditisuptous–honestmenlikeyouandme–toensurethatshedoesnotfall.Cadiacannotfall.Shewillnotfall.’Therewasalongpause.Bendikt felt flattered by the word ‘us’, but he was shaken by the ominouswarnings.‘Whatcanwedo?’‘We shall fight like bastards,’Creed said. ‘Andwe have to bemore deviousthanourfoes.’Bendiktsmiled.‘Isthatpossible?’‘LifeintheGuardhastaughtmethreethings,’Creedsaid.‘Endurance,gritandtheunderstanding thatwith faithandcourageandgood leadership,anything ispossible.’‘Ihopeyou’reright.’Creedgavehimalonglookandleanedinoncemore.‘WhenIwasyoungmydrillsergeanthadafavouritesaying.’‘Whatisthat?’‘Hope,’Creedsaid,‘isthefirststepontheroadtodisappointment.’

TWOFIDELITASVECTOR

SATELLITEEMBARKATIONHANGARSTYROKFIELDS

Noonecouldrememberthelasttimethishadhappened.Allyear, thehuge,draughty, impersonalchambersof theprocessingsatellitesfilled with tithes of Cadian Whiteshields who would be loaded onto thecavernousdecksoftrooptransportsanddeliveredstraightintothehungrywarsoftheImperiumofMan.OnCadia, therhythmofbirth, training,conscription,graduation,embarkationanddeparturewasasdeeplyfeltandadheredtoasthemovementoftheseasonsfromsummertowinter,therisingofthesun,thefallofnight.Now,thatnaturalsequenceoflifehadgoneintoreverse.Trooptransportswerearriving fully laden, not empty. Years of titheswere returningwithinmonths.Veterantroopsnumberingintheirmillions.ItwasoverloadingeventheefficientCadianadministrators.LongqueuesoftrooptransportshunginpatientorbitandevenWarmasterRyse’spersonal transport, theFidelitasVector,had towait forfivedaysbeforeshegotherberth.‘Theloadingofficersendshisapologies,’WarmasterRyse’sadjutantstatedastheWarmastertookinhisbriefbreakfastofrecaff,friedslabandapairoffreshly

poached eggs. He picked up his silver knife and fork and began to eat. Thebroodingthreathadmadehimhungry.

TheWarmaster ate his way through the five-day delay. Bendikt accepted anyinvitations he was given to Ryse’s banquets. He’d spent long enough eatingration-gradefoodandcouldnotpassupthefinetablethattheWarmasterkept.BendikthopedtorunintoUrsarkarE.Creedoncemore,buthedidnotappear,andeachtimeBendiktmadehiswaybacktothetroopdecksafterdinnerwithanairofdisappointment.Onthelastnight,Bendiktwassittingatatablemakingconversationwithapairofveteranwarriors.Thefirst,tohisright,calledLynch,claimedtohaveledthecampaigntowipeoutthexenosracecalledbrynarr.‘Theywerenotfighters,’hesaidastheservitorrefilledhisglasswithdarkredwine.Hetookasipandputthe cut-crystal glass back down. ‘They were rather sentimental towards theirpupae.Itmadethemparticularlyeasytotrapandkill.Thesurvivalinstinctwasnotnaturaltothem.’Bendiktnoddedpolitely,ashiseyes scanned the roomforCreed’sdistinctiveshape.‘Your name is Bendikt?’ the man to his left said, reading Bendikt’s placesetting.‘AreyouoneoftheKasrTyrokBendikts?’It was a question aristocratic Cadians asked him. ‘No,’ Bendikt said. ‘I wasborninthesub-habofKasrHalig.’‘Thesub-hab?’themansaidinsurprise.‘Yes.’‘Andnowyou’reamajor?’Bendiktdidnotthinkheneededtoanswerthatquestion.Hisepaulettesspokefor themselves. The general, whose place setting said he was named Grüber,tookasipofwine.‘Howoldareyou,major?’‘Forty.Terranstandard,’Bendiktsaid.‘ThesameageasGeneralCreed?’‘WhichGeneralCreed?’Grübergavealittlesnortofsurpriseashecutthesmokedfishinhalf.‘UrsarkarCreed.’‘IthinktherearetwoGeneralUrsarkarCreeds.’Bendikttookasipofwine.Grübercouldnottellifhewasbeingmocked.‘UrsarkarE.Creed,’hesaid.Bendikttookasipofwine.‘Ah!Yes,ofcourse.’‘Whatdidyouthink?’

‘Veryimpressed.’‘Really?’Grübersaid,andtookanothersipofwine.‘I’vealwaysfoundhimalittleoverrated.’

Creed did not show up that night or any other. Bendikt made his excuses toGeneralsGrüberandLynchandleftearly.HespentthelastfulldayofwaitingfordisembarkationinHab-Hangar07-85,playing Black Five with a pair of captains from the Fighting Jackals, Cadian883rdRifles.TheFighting Jackals had got fat and complacentwith their last posting on asettledworldnamedAndromeda.Bendiktdidn’tlikebeingawayfromthefrontline, on principle. Downtime made men soft, and he’d found from personalexperiencethatitgavemensomethingtohopefor:alifethattheywouldneverachieve.ItwasBendikt’sdutytorelievethemoftheircoin.InordertodistractthemhekeptpromptingthementotalkofAndromeda,butthemoremoneytheylostthelessglowingtheirstorieswere.‘Well,’oneofthemsaidashewatchedBendiktshufflingthecards.‘There’dbeenaregimentofCatachanstherebeforeus.Theywerestillputtingtheplacebacktogether.’Afteranhourtheywerelookingunhappy.‘Anothergame?’hesuggested.They shook their heads.Bendikt tipped the coin onto the table and began tocountitup.Notbad,hethought.ThislotshouldkeephimgoingforafewdaysinthebarsofKasrTyrok.Aspectacularnight,ifthatwasallhehad.Bendiktslidthecoinsintohispocket,rosequicklyandputouthishand.‘Goodluck.’

Nextmorningshrillalarmsrangout,andonebyone,downthelonghangar,thethreerowsofstriplumesflickeredtolife.‘Movingout,’SergeantTysonsaid.‘About time,’Bendiktsaidashepushedhimselfupfromhisbed.Beforehimstretchedhalfamileoffiguresrisingfromtheirbunks,packingthelastoftheirbelongingsintotheirbackpacks.Tyson took in the empty bottle ofArcady Pride in the bin. ‘Good night lastnight,sir?’Thememoriesofhiscelebrationcamebacktohim.Bendiktnodded.‘Notbad,’hesaid.Hethrewthesheetsbackandreachedforhisuniform.Hisflakarmouron thebottom,Cadiandrab jacket foldedneatlyon top.HewasstillaCadian,evenwhendrunk.

‘So,apparently,ourordershavechanged.’Tysonofferedthelatestordersheettohim,butBendiktwasn’tinterested.‘Doesitsaywherewearegoing?’Tysonshookhishead.Their orders had changed at least six times in the journey. They would bemanning an orbital defence platform. They would be a mobile reserve. Theywould be the spear-tip of a massive armoured column and sent to the outerplanet ofKasrHoln as a first lineof defence.Bendikt sighed.Sounded like atypicalmilitarymess.‘Seeifyoucanfindsomeonewhoknows.’‘Yes,sir,’Tysonsaid.

Bendikt was up and dressed when his Colour Sergeant, Daal, came forwardsmartlyandsaluted.‘Everythingpackedandready?’Bendiktasked.Daalgrinned.‘Intruth,sir,they’vebeenreadysincetherecall.’Itwastrue.Assoonasthey’dheardthattheywerereturningtoCadiathemenof the101sthadgoneover theiruniformsandequipment,polishing, repairing,sewing,fixing,sharpening,cleaningeverybutton,web-pouch,blade,seamanditemthattheyowned.Itwasallheexpected.Theywereacrackunit.Eliteoftheelite. They barely needed leading, at times. Theywere like a sharp knife.Alltheyneededwaspointingintherightdirection,andalittlebitofpressure.Theydidtherestthemselves.‘Good,’Bendiktsaid.Daalwas so excited he couldn’t hold himself back.A fewmoments later, astheystoodovertherecaffpot,hesaid,‘Gavesecondplatoonabitofadressing-down.’Bendiktnoddedbutsaidnothing.Hisheadwashurtingless.‘Theygotalittlefreshlastnight.’‘Metoo,’Bendiktsaid,andtookasipofthelukewarmrecaff.Thislongintoavoyageandtherecycledwaterstartedtotasteofoilandsterilants,andevenwithrecaff this strong, you couldn’t mask the flavour. He put the cup down. Hecouldn’tdrinkanymoreofthestuff.‘When’sourslot?’‘Zeroninehundredhours,shiptime,’Daalsaid.‘Isshiptimesynced?’‘No.We’resixhours,fifty-threeminutesaheadofplanettime.Apologiesfromthecaptain.TherewasnottimeintheflightfromtheMandevillePoint…Hasteandallthat.’

Bendikt nodded and looked at the empty bottle in the bin. Next drink, hethought,wouldbeinthefleshpotsofKasrTyrok.Hecouldnotwait.

As debarkation alarms rang, the ballast deck lights of the Fidelitas Vectorflickeredon, illuminating thousandsof tanks and supportvehicles, parkedandwaiting.Forthejourney,theirmachine-spiritshadbeenstilled,butaslongfilesofmarchingGuardsmenmovedslowlydowntowardstheTroopProcessorAlpha4,thearmourwasloadedstraightontolandersandferriedtotheplanet.TheFidelitasVectortrembledasvastdecksfilledwithnoiseandfumes;LemanRuss tanksreversed towards the lander ramps, followedbyvast trackedammocarriers that creakedunder theweight ofman-sizedBaneblade shells, armour-penetrating rounds and themassive, squat, building-levelling rocket shells fortheBanehammersiegecannon.Rysewas the first to leave the ship, on board the governor’s personal barge,withhisstaffandtheSacramentum.‘Like rats,’ Tyson said as they watched the governor’s barge diminishingtowardstheplanet.

The honour of following the Warmaster went to the Cadian 774th, ‘TitanKillers’,with theircomplementof threeancientShadowswords.Nextwere theCadian993rd/57th,the‘Bluecaps’,athousandandtenveteranwarriorswhohadspent the last three years fighting greenskins at close quarters on the jungleworldsofSemyonPrime.Bendikt’s101stwerescheduledtoloadontoadrop-shiplatethatmorning,buttheirappointedtimecameandwentwhiletheywerestillwaitingontheFidelitasVector.Theywerestandingonavastdescentramp,tiltingsteadilydownwardstotheloadingdecks.Bendiktkeptcheckinghischronometer.He’dbeen inqueues like thisbefore,wheretheAdministratumhadcockeduptitanically,andthey’dspentdaysintheexitcorridors,waitingfortheirslottocomethrough.‘LookingforwardtoCadia?’Tysonasked.‘Well,IthinkImissedoutonthebarsofKasrTyrok.Buthome.Tobehonest,no,notreally.’Hisadjutantlookedalittlecrestfallen.Bendiktsighed.‘I’llfeelbetterwhenItouchdown,I’msure.’‘Sureyouwill,sir.’Bendiktnodded.‘Stillthelittleworseforwear.’‘I’llgetyouanotherrecaff,sir.’

‘Yes.Pleasedo.Andmakethisonestronger.’Bendiktwas stillwaiting forhis recaffwhenat last thequeueaheadof thembegantomove,andtheGuardsmenstoodupandstartedwalking.Fortwohoursthey fileddown through long,wideaccess ramps, still fuzzywithpromethiumfumes,intothetroopprocessingplant.

It took three hours for their lander, a three-tiered ferry, to fill with theircomplementof inductedGuardsmen, tanks,ordnanceandequipment,andthen,withadullmetallicclang,thevoid-chambersweresealed,air-supplypipesandmagneticclampsdisengaged,andthefat,ungainlylandingcraftfelltowardstheplanet.The atmosphere inside the lander was cramped and close. There were nowindows.Nothingbutthehunchedshapesofmenandequipment,andanairoftense apprehension. For most of their lives, being in a lander meant a newwarzone,andtherewasnothingwithinthecrowded,stuffyinteriortodistractthemind.Most of hismen sat in rowson the floor, their kneespulledup to theirchins,headsbowed,helmetson,eyesshut.Bendikt’s stomach lurched as the lander dropped from the battleship towardsCadia,butthentherewasthesenseofreleaseandoffalling.Hefeltheoughttoseehowhistroopsweredoing,andpulledhimselfupwithonehandonthemetalwall.Hemadehiswayalongthelinesofwaitingtroops,swappingbriefwordswithhismen.Hepickedoutoneyounglad.‘What’syourname?’‘Georg,sir.’‘HowlongsinceyouleftCadia?’‘Ayearandahalf,sir.’‘Betyoudidn’tthinkyou’dbereturningsosoon.’‘No,sir.’‘Gotagirlbackhome?’Georg’scheeksturnedcrimsonashegrinned.‘Well.Yes…’Healmostforgottoadd‘sir’.‘Shedrewtheplanetarydefenceforce.’Bendiktnodded.‘Goodluck,’hesaid.Bendiktwasabout topassonwhenGeorgfumbledinsidehiscoatandpulledoutawell-thumbedpictofayounggirlinCadiandrab,herhairtiedbackfromher face. Bendikt took it. It was what you did when a man showed you hissweetheart.‘Shelookslikeafighter.’Georggrinned. ‘Shewas, sir.Galina.Fought against thedraftdecision.Went

right up to Cadian High Command…’ The sentence trailed off, and Bendiktfinisheditforhim.‘Buttherewasnothingtheycoulddo.’Georgnodded.‘Nothing.’Bendiktreturnedthepicture.‘Ihopeshe’snotforgottenyou.’ButthenCreed’swordscamebacktohim.Hopepavedtheroadtodisappointment.

LasttimetheCadian101sthadfallenplanetwardsthey’dbeenrockedbyflakkfirefromtheopposinggreenskins.Ithadbeenaterrifyingdescent.Butthistimetherewasnothunderofwar,noevasivemanoeuvres,nopingofshrapnelringingontheouterhull.They came in from the north, passing high over the ice-capped peaks of theRezlaMountainsandbankinggentlytotheright.Slavedservogunstrackedthedrop-ship as it burned off speed on a long descent over the northern polarregions, following the prescribed flight path that had been punched into thecommandconsolesofitsservitordockingcrew.Thedescenttookthebestpartoftwohours.Itwasalong,slowparabola,andbythetimethelandinggearwasengagedandtheyfeltthelanderslowtoahoverbeforefinallytouchingdown,themen’smoodhadturnedalmostjubilant.Whenthefardoorsopened,theystartedtolaughandjokeandtherewasagreatcheerwhenthevastlandingrampsslammeddownandthelightandairofCadiasweptin.

Bendiktstoodonthetopofthelandingcraftrampandbreatheddeeply.BeforehimwasthevastmilitarytransitcampthatwasTyrokFields.CadianHighCommandhadrecalledallCadianunits.Nooneknewwhenthishadeverhappenedbefore,andnow,ashestoodthereandlookedoutacrossthemilesandmilesofTyrokFields,hewasstruckbythebuzzofmillionsofCadianShockTroopers.The enormity of it hit him, and he stood amazed, like a feral world savageseeing his first orbital craft. The vast flat plain had been turned into a city oftents,parkedarmour,pilesofordnanceandrations,andsupplementarysupplies.BendiktcouldnotevenbegintoguesshowmanyGuardsmenwerecampedhere.Theystretchedawayonallsides,asfarashecouldsee.Thehumoftheiractivitywasaconstantroar.Therehadtobeamillion,atleast.Andonthefarhorizon,likeabeastontheveldt,aLeviathanblareditshornsinsaluteasamanipleofWarlordTitansstrodesouthwards.

TheTitansansweredwithatrumpetblastandrolledslowlytowardshim,likeagatheringwave.Bendiktgrinned.He foundhimselfhuggingTyson, slappinghimon thebackand laughingoutloud.Theywerehome.

Lookingback,Bendikt regrettedhowhespenthis firstdayandahalfbackonCadia.He passed up the chance to visitKasrTyrok andwentwithColour SergeantDaalandhissupportstafftoreportintothelocalMunitorumofficetosortouttheirorders.TheMunitorumofficewasalowsandbaggedshackinthecornerofCamp889.Theytookaticket–D9973–fromaservitor-stationandwaitedtheirturn.Thewaitwas long,but thiswasCadia, so itwasorderlyanddisciplined–and theroomwasfullofotherShockTroopers.Theyspentthetimefindingoutifthey’deverbeeninthesamewarzone.When their ticketwas finally called, theywere brought to a low camp desk,where aMunitorum clerk rested his hands on the table before him, onwhichtherewererationpacks,asheathofneatpapersandaheavymetalaquilastamp.‘Cadian101st,’hesaidbywayofgreeting.Bendiktnoddedandsat,restinghishelmetonhislap.The clerk checkedhis papers. ‘MajorBendikt?Good.Mygreat-unclewas inthe101st.’‘Whatwashisname?’‘Oh, you wouldn’t know him,’ the clerk said. ‘He was killed in his firstengagement.CrashedValkyrie.’Bendikthadheardahundredstorieslikethat.Hewastiredandwantednothingmorethantobesittinginabar,puttinghismoneytogooduse.‘War’sharsh,’hesaid.TheMunitorumclerkwasanoldmanwithwide-setroundeyesandamannerof cockinghis head that remindedBendikt of an eagle.Buthewaspolite andefficient and supplied themwith their ration books and chits for ammunition,winterboots,medicalsuppliesandeverythingelsethatanarmyneeded.‘Rationslookthin,’BendiktsaidasDaallookedatthedailyfoodallowance.TheMunitorumofficialturnedhisheadandstareddownathim,beforecockingittheotherway.‘Siegefooting,’hesaid.‘Already?’Daalsaid.

Theclerknodded.Bendiktputhishelmetbackon.He thoughthewouldcheck theirorders. ‘Sowe’resupposedtobejoiningupwithourtanksandthe74thArmouredBattalionofNorthernCommand.’The official looked down at the scroll of servitor script that he was using.‘Hmm,’hesaid.‘Yourordersseemtohavechanged.’‘Again?’Theman cockedhis head again and looked at him. ‘Yes.Yourunit has beenpostedtoObservationPost9983.’‘Where’sthat?’‘I don’t know.’ The clerk’s cheeks coloured. He clearly did not appreciatesurpriseslikethis.Notonhiswatch.‘Hmm,’hesaid,andfrownedforamomentashe looked for themissingdata.At last,he lookedupwithanexpressionofwearyresignation.‘Thatis,Ifear,classified.’‘Sohowdowegetthere?’‘I’mafraidIdon’tknow.’‘Andourarmourandequipment?’‘I’mafraid–’‘Youdon’tknow.’Themancockedhisheadtothesideandnodded.‘Exactly.’

BythetimeBendiktgotbacktotheircampthetransportshadalreadysetouttoKasrTyrok.‘Icoulddriveyou,’Tysonoffered.‘Howlongwouldittake?’‘Sixhours.’Bendiktseriouslyconsidereditforamoment,butitdidn’tmakesense.Iftheyleftnowthey’donlyhavetimetogetthereandthenturnbackroundintimeforembarkation.‘Kindofmakesthewholeideapointless,don’tyouthink?’‘Iguess,sir.’Bendiktcursed.Thelightsofthecampstretchedoutinalldirections.Helookedupattheluridpurplestaininthesky,andtheEyeofTerrorglaringdownathim.‘Iforgothowbrightitis,’Bendiktsaid.Tysonnodded.‘Frekkingugly,isn’tit?’‘Yes,’Bendikt said.He’dmissedCadia, buthehadnotmissed thenight sky.TheEyeofTerrorwasbrighterthanheremembered.Itsgreen-and-purplelightcastashadowontheground.Itmadehimsicklookingintoit.

Never,hethought.Aninstinctiveresponse.Never.

A staff Centaur arrived at Bendikt’s HQ tent an hour before dawn. ‘Are youMajorBendikt?’aterritorialofficeraskedashemadethesignoftheaquilainabrisk,perfunctoryway.‘Yes.’‘Yourtransportiswaiting.’‘Good.ToObservationPoint9983?’‘No.AirBaseAlpha443.’‘Tyson,haveourordersbeenchangedagain?’Tysonblushed.‘No.’‘AirBaseAlphaisatransithub.’‘Wherearewegoing?ToObservationPost9983?’Themancheckedhispapers.Therewasapause.‘Idon’tseewhere,I’mafraid.’Bendikt’s temper was starting to rise. ‘We were told we are being sent toObservationPost9983.’Theotherofficer’scheekscoloured. ‘Idon’tknow,but Ihave tomakespace.There’sanotherlandercomingintomorrowduringtheparade.’‘Whatparade?’‘VolscaniCataphracts.There’sanofficialwelcome.’Bendiktwaspissedoff.‘Neverheardofthem.’

THREEOBSERVATIONPOST9983

AGuardsmanhadfewexpectations,yetattheleasthewantedtoknowwherehewasgoingtowar.ButnoonehadheardofObservationPost9983andthe101sthad a deflated air about it as the men of the regiment gathered their kit andmarchedthedistancetoAirBaseAlpha443.In the skies above Tyrok Fields fliers were swooping down, constantlyemptyingandrefillingwithregiments,assomemadetheirwayout to thekasrfortressesalongten-lanearterialhighways,whilevastplanetarylandersbroughtinfreshregiments.‘Anyideawherethisobservationpostis?’ColourSergeantDaalaskedastheysawthelinesofValkyrieswaiting.‘None,’Bendiktsaid.Histemperwasstartingtofray.Theyhadn’tcomehometoobserve.Theywere the101st, forThrone’s sake.A figure ranout from thesidedoorofoneoftheValkyries.Hehadadata-slateinhishandandlookedatitbeforesaying,‘MajorBendikt?’‘Yes.’‘We’rereadyforyou.’‘Knowwherewe’regoing?’Themanpulledaface.‘Sorry.’

‘Whataboutourtanks?’Themantiltedhishead.‘Sorry.Abovemyrank.’Bendiktcursedunderhisbreath.‘Daal.Getthemenonboard.’Theyclimbedupontotheaircraft,platoonbyplatoon.‘That’sthelot,’DaalsaidasthelastGuardsmenclamberedaboard.Bendikt looked about him one last time and nodded. ‘Right. Let’s find outwherethehellwe’reheading.’

They left their Valkyrie’s side doors open. Bendikt and Sergeant Daal stoodstaringoutoverCadia.IttooksixhourstocrossthecheckerboardofTyrokFields,andthentheywereover moors, with armoured regiments crossing the wilds like herds on thesavannah.Thewindwascoldontheirfaces.Itmadetheireyeswater.Theyhadtoshoutovertheroaroftheturbines.‘We’reheadingnorth-east,’Bendiktsaid.Forwhatitmattered.‘SomuchforthedrinkingdistrictofKasrTyrok,’Daalsaid.Bendikt stood in the leeof thedoorwayand lookeddown.Homecomingwasoverrated,hethought.Whateverthisobservationpostwas,therehadbetterbeadamngoodbarnearby.ArowoftenLeviathanswasmakingitswayacrosstheplainsbelow.Eachonewasahundredyardstall,ahunchedbeetleofceramiteandgunbarrels,trundlingslowly along on massive tracks, with an honour guard of Baneblade tankslookingdiminutive next to them.Theywent in single file like a herd of giantgrox.TheirValkyrie tippedto thesideas themencrowdedin tosee,squintingintothewind.TheValkyrie did a little salute and the signals officer of one of theLeviathansgaveashorttootoverthebroadcasterstoacknowledgethem.And then theValkyries turnedsouth towards theCentralMassif,and the landbeneaththemwaswhitewithsnow.

TheylandedatabustlingbasehighupinthemoorsofCadia’sNorthernMassif.Itwasaboutascoldandbleakaplaceasyoucould imagine,but therewasnotimetogetout.TheValkyriesrefuelledandthensetoffagain,headingsouth.Theyflewthroughthenightandgotwhatsleeptheycould.Nextmorningtheengineswerewheezinginthethinatmosphere.‘Arewelost?’Daalasked.Bendikt opened the doors a crack. They were halfway up a craggy blackmountain with snow-capped peaks, heading towards a vast vertical cliff face

underthesummit.Clingingtothesideofthecliff,two-thirdsofthewayup,wasa tiny landing pad with a rockcrete parapet, a pair of slaved servo-bolterstracking their approach, and the tarpaulin cover of a Hydra platform, belowwhichwasametaldoor.TherecouldnotbeamorebleakanddesertedpostingonCadia,anditwastherethattheywereheading.‘Idonotbelievethis,’Bendiktsaid.Heglancedatthefacesofhismen.Noonelookedhappy.

The landing pad was only big enough for one Valkyrie at a time. It was adangerousapproach,withmountaingustsbuffetingthemastheyapproachedthecliffwall.EachValkyriehoveredasthetroopsdisembarked,andthentheemptycraftfellawayasthenextinthequeuemovedforward.ItseemedtotakeanageforBendikt’scrafttogetitsturn.Astheywaited,theco-pilotcamebacktobriefthem.‘Wearelowonfuel!’heshoutedoverthewind.‘Getyourmenoffquick.’Bendikt nodded. He was tense as they made their approach. The black clifffilledhisvisionastheirValkyriemovedin.Theco-pilotwavedatthemthroughthecockpitwindow.‘Ready!’Daal shouted, and stood at thedoorway as they toucheddown.Themenjumpedoutwithalltheirkit,stillperfectlypresented,andranovertheice-slicksurfacetotherampthatleddowntotheparapet.Sergeant Dykene of Second Platoon was there, offering a steadying hand.‘Careful!Don’tslip.It’sthreethousandyardsuntilyouhitthebottom.’Bendiktdidn’tneedahand.Hestrodealongthenarrowparapet,andinthroughthemetalblastdoorsintoavastreinforcedchamber,wheretheairwaswarmanddry.Hestrodeforward.Aftertheroarofwindandengines,theinnerspaceseemedalmostsilent.Hepausedand listened. In thestillness, therewas thedistinctivelowhumofmaintenanceengines.Helookedabout.Ontherockcretewall,inchalk,werethecrossedflagmuralsofalltheregimentsthathadbeenquarteredthere.Thenamesstretchedawayintothedistantgloom.ThelastsaidCadian290th‘SteelFists’.‘Whatthehellisthisplace?’Bendiktasked.He turned and looked about at the cavernous chamber, and spotted aman incivilianuniformmakinghiswaystraighttowardshim.Hehadneatlycombedgreyhair,bushyblackeyebrowsandbrightvioleteyes.

‘YouareMajorBendikt?’thenewcomerasked.‘Yes.’The man’s voice was light. ‘My name is Rivald. I am the caretaker here.WelcometoObservationPost9983.’

ObservationPost 9983was littlemore than an icicle-clad parapet and landingpad, clinging two-thirds of theway up amile-high granite cliff face, under alooming overhang of thickwhite ice. The parapet hugged the contours of themountain, with loop-holes and firing ports staring out into two-thousand-yarddrops,andanancientHydraplatform,drapedwithtarpaulins,justvisibleunderthesnow.Itwasableak,coldplace,withoutroadoraccess,apartfromthelandingpad,whichwassubjecttotreacherousupdraughtsandonwhichonlythemostskilledpilots would dare land. Why anyone would want to place a base here wassomethingthattroubledthemall.Bendiktsummonedhisvoxoperator,Mere.‘MadecontactwithNorthernCommand?’‘Yessir,’Meresaid.‘There’sanoldvoxrelaysystemhere.Beastofathing.’Helaughed.‘CouldprobablytalktothecaptainoftheFidelitasVector.’‘Well,thankhimforhishospitality,’Bendiktsnapped.‘Butfirstgetsomeoneincommand.Findoutwhat thehellwearedoinghere,andwhat thehellwearesupposedtobeobserving.’‘Yessir.’‘Tyson.HasArmitagescoutedoutthisplace?’‘Yes.’Tysonsniffed.‘There’ssixfloorsthatweknowof.Allgoingdownintothemountain.’‘Six?’Bendiktsaid.‘Thatyouknowof?’‘Well,Armitagesaystherearedoorsonthethirdfloorthathecan’topen.’Bendiktcursed.‘Where’sthecaretaker…What’shisname?’‘Rivald,’ Tyson said. ‘He appears to live in a series of officer habs, on thesecondfloor.’

WhenBendikt found him,Rivaldwas praying at a little shrine on the secondfloor.Thedoorsof the shrinewereopenagainst thewall; from the flameofastubby red candle, light flickered on the image of the Omnissiah, and freshlibationsofoildrippedfromtheshallowsacrarium.RivaldputupahandtosaythatBendiktshouldwaitforamoment,andwhenhefinished,hewipedtheoilfromhishandsontohisapron.‘Themachine-spirits

hereareveryold,’hesaidasanapology.‘Theyneedspecialcare.’Bendikt’stemperhadbeenrisingwitheachmomenthehadtowaitandRivaldseemedasafepersontoventiton.‘Listen,’Bendiktsaid.‘Idon’tgiveafrekkaboutthemachines.MymenhadtocrossthegalaxytogetbacktoCadiainherhourofneed.’HefeltlikeWarmasterRyse,waxinglyrical,andhisirritationgrew.‘We’reatankregimentandwe’vebeenstuckhalfwayupamountaininthemiddleoftheCentralMassif.Doyouknowwhatthehellthisplaceisandwhywe’rehere?’Rivaldhadalookinhiseyethatseemedtoimplythiskindofconversationhadhappenedbefore.Hefoldedthemetaldoorsbackontheshrineandsaid,‘No.’‘Nothing?’‘Ihaveguesses,’Rivaldsaid.‘Cometomychamber.’Rivald led him to a disused wing with brass fittings and polished nalwooddoors.‘Thiswasoncetheofficers’lodgings,’hesaid.‘Themainbarracksareonthethirdfloor.There’sroomforthreethousandmenhere,atleast.I’vecountedthebeds.Itkeepsmebusybetweenmyduties.’Rivald led him through a pair of double doors, markedwith the sign of theaquila,andintoalongcorridor,litbyasinglestriplume.Theairhadamusty,dryfeel.Thecorridorswerecleanandneat,andinoneoftherooms,alightwasshining.‘Thisway,please,’Rivaldsaid.‘Thisismyroom.’Bendiktfollowedhiminside.Itwasaneat,plaincell.Therewasacampbed,athree-drawereddresser,aposterofaredaquilaandtheboldtext:Theenemyislistening…Keepittoyourself!Thefurniturewasclearlymuchnewerthantherockcretefittings,whichhadanancient,baroquefeeltothem.Rivaldmotionedtohimtositdownonaplainwoodenchair.Bendiktremainedstanding.‘Whatisthisplace?’‘ObservationPost–’Bendiktcuthimoff. ‘Quit thegrox-shit.Clearlynot.Whydo theyneed threethousandmenhere?Whatistheretowatch?We’rehalfwayupamountain.’‘Ican’ttellyou,I’mafraid.Icameheretwenty-fiveyearsago.’‘Andwhatdoyoudo–exactly?’‘I keep the place running. I pray to theGoldenThrone. I keep themachine-spiritscompany.Sometimesunitscome.Likeyours.’‘When?’‘Ayearago.TheyweretheCadian9034thAirborne.Theywerenothappytobe

here.’‘Icanbet.Howlongdidtheystay?’‘Sixmonths.’Bendiktfeltsickatthethought.‘Isthereanywayoffthisbase?’Rivaldshookhishead.‘Theremustbe.’‘No.’‘Canwescalethemountain?Orgodown?Arethereropes?’‘Otherstried,’Rivaldsaid,andfrowned.‘Ihaveseenit.Thereisnothing.Onlythelandingpad.’‘One landing pad. Three thousand men. There must be something here. Myscoutssaidtherearedoors.Onthethirdlevel…’‘Yes.Theybearthename“Salvation9983”.’‘Whatdoesthatmean?’Rivaldshookhishead.‘Idonotknow.’‘Canyouopenthem?’‘No.’‘Areyousure?’Theoldmannodded.‘Well,frekk-allusetheyarethen.’There were footsteps in the corridor outside. Bendikt put his hand to hislaspistol, but it was Tyson.Hewas breathless.He saluted as Bendikt slid thesidearmbackintoitsholster.‘Sir!There’sbeenanincident.’Hetookinadeepbreathandthewordsspilledoutallinone.‘TheGovernorofCadiaisdead.’‘Dead?’Tysonnodded.‘There’sbeenanoccurrenceatTyrokFields.’‘Abattle?’Tysontriedtoexplain.‘ItwastheVolscani,sir.Theyturnedtheirgunsonthegovernor.At the landing site.’He took adeepbreath, and it all cameout in asentence. ‘Some are saying, well, sir, it seems that the Volscani have turnedheretic.’

FOUROBSERVATIONPOST9983

WithoutfactsalltheCadian101sthadwasspeculation,andthatwasnotgood.Withoutevidence,aGuardsman’smindturnedtotheworstpossibleeventualitiesasachildinthedarkwillimaginemonsters.Bendiktdidnotcarewheretheenemywere.Whattheyneededwerefacts.Anenemy’slocationandstrength.Howbesttokillthem.Bendikt ran through all the units he could think of and tried to get a linkthroughtothem,butthechannelswereoverloadedwiththebellowingofmeninbattle.ThemenandwomenoftheCadian101stlistenedinstunnedsilencetothevox communications from the fields of Tyrok. Panicked shouts of surroundedunits.Commandersdesperatelytryingtolocatetheirmen.Alltheconfusionandterrorofwar.Itsoundedlikehell.Bendikt punched the wall in his fury. ‘Powerless!’ he hissed, pacing up anddown,tryingtofindanexplanationforwhatwashappeningastherumbleofwarshookTyrokFields.‘We’refrekkingpowerless!’Hadsomehotheadgonerogue?Aperceivedinsult,perhaps?TheEyeofTerrordrovemenmad.Butastheylistened,athreadofcalmbegantoestablishitself.Itwasoneman’s

voice, cutting through the shouting and the screams. He gave commands.Calmedterrifiedmendown.HestartedtobringthescatteredsurvivorsofTyrokFieldstogetheragainintoanarmy:foughtchaoswithorder.‘That’sCreed!’Bendiktsaid,andstoodwithonehandonthevox,asifstandingnext to thegeneral. ‘That’sUrsarkarE.Creed!’he shouted. ‘GetCreedon thevox.No,sendhimamessage.TellhimMajorBendiktandthe101starestrandedatObservationPost9983.’Meretried,butthevoxchannelswereoverloaded.Afteranhouroffailing,heraisedhishand.‘There’sgoingtobeanannouncement,sir.’Thewhole101stgatheredinaroughhorseshoeaboutthevox.‘MenandwomenofCadia.’ItwasCreed.Hewasspeakingintimately.Itwasasifhewereintheroomwiththem.Theyfelthiscloseness;itwaspartofhismagic.‘We lost many today. Friends. Sons. Mothers. Daughters. Comrades. Wewithstood fire, bombardment, treacheryand cowardice.Andwedidnot flinch.Wedidnotturntoaskifanotherwouldstepupandtakeourplace.Westood,wefought,andwestrodeforwardintobattle.’Therewasthesoundofdistantcheersthroughthevox,andBendikt’sstomachached. Ifonly theycouldhavebeen there, in thebattle.Hepictured thescene,thevastTyrokFields stretchingaway, firesburning,medicaeunits looking fortheinjured.Creed’sbullishsilhouette,withagreatcoatslungoverhisshoulders,cigar-stubinhishand.‘TodaytheHighCommandofCadiahaveaskedmetoserveasLordCastellanofCadia.’Thereweremore cheers.The atmosphere in the roomwas soquietyoucouldhearamanbreathe.BendiktcouldimagineCreed’sknuckles,whiteonthepodium,waitingforthecrowdtogosilent.Creed’svoicecameagain.‘Ihaveacceptedthehonour.’BendiktandDaalexchangedlooks.Therewasalongpause,asthecheersofTyrokFieldsrangout.Creed was waiting. Bendikt imagined him putting up his hands for silence.‘Whathappenedtodaywasnoaccident.Itwasnochance.Thiswasorchestratedbyamindthathasplannedandplottedforthousandsofyears.TheDespoiler.‘It is thehour thatwehave long foreseen.Thechance toproveourselveshismatch.’Morecheers.‘I offer you nothing but blood and battle. This is our part in awar that haslasted ten thousandyears–and today,brothers, todaywe–you–havewona

greatvictorythatwillberememberedforanothertenthousandyears,oraslongastheImperiumofMankindshalllast!’ThesoundofcheeringwasdrownedoutbyamilitarybandplayingFlowerofCadia.Thebroadcastwasclearlyover.‘Turnitoff,’BendikttoldMere.Therewasstunnedsilence.Bendiktstoodbythevoxandlookedintothefacesofhissoldiers.‘YouheardwhatCreedhadtosayandIknowthatyoufeelthesame as me. We should be down there. Instead, we’re here, in this Throne-forsakenobservationplatform. I’mgoing todo all I can to sort thismessout.You’llallhaveachancetostrikeablowagainstourfoes.Ipromiseyouthat.’

Thenextdaydawndidnotcome.The skies ofCadia turnedblack as the great fleets of ImperialNavydefencemonitors andorbital defenceplatforms– theprouddefences that hehad seen,justdaysbefore,fromthedecksoftheFidelitasVector–weresweptasidebythevast fleet of the Black Legion.Massed cruisers, landers, crash-pods, thewar-hostsoftheDespoilerfilledtheskies.Weeks turned to months, and the attitude changed from anger to despair;Creed’s pronouncements over the vox became more impassioned. ‘People ofCadia…’eachspeechwouldbegin.‘WehavesmashedanarmouredcolumnatKasrRelon.TheenemyhaslandedonCadiansoilingreatforce.Wearethegenerationuponwhoseshouldersliestheheavydutyofsendingthemalltotheirdeaths.’Creed’sdeepvoiceremainedaconstant,evenwhenhehadbadnewstoshare.‘People of Cadia. The walls of Kasr Batrok have been breached, but I amassured that themen thereare fightingwithgritandresolve,and it cannotbelong before the enemy are trapped and isolated, and their forces entirelydestroyed.’‘People of Cadia, hold strong! We are the barb that holds the foe.Reinforcementsareontheirway.TheHighLordsofTerracommendyouforyoursacrifices.Holdtheline!Repeltheenemy.Donotgiveground.’

Eachnight,clotsofblackcruisersdroppedflocksoflandersthatfellplanetwardslike flocks of carrion birds.Theydisgorged their full payloads, spewingout adisorganisedsprawlofrituallyscarredcultists,daemonenginesandchampionsoftheDarkGodswhokilledtheirwaytopower.Feral and hiveworlds had been emptied of populations and loaded into vast

hangars,andnowtheyspilledoutinmaddenedsquadsnumberingthousandsineach,charginginwildjubilation,screamingunholynames,losingthemselvestoprayer and abandon. They spewed out in such numbers that even themassedbrigadesandarmouredcolumnsoftheCadianShockTroopers,thefinesthumanwarriors in the galaxy,were slowly driven back: trench by trench; redoubt byredoubt;andfinallykasrbykasr.Day after day, hour after hour, tons of ash coiled snake-like into the upperatmosphere,turningtheplanetdark.

Eachday,MajorBendiktstoodonthehighparapetofObservationPost9983andwatchedindesperateimpotence.On the thirtiethday,he tookouthisscopes towatch theBlackFleetmass itspoweragainsthishometownofKasrHalig.His tri-domehelmetcastaslantedshadowacrosshis faceas thebroadsideof lancebatteries strobed thenightofCadiawith longbarsof incandescentwhite light.The lightningstormwentonforhours,smotheringtheplainindustandash,andstitchinganirregularpatternof mushroom clouds up into the high atmosphere. Kasr Halig was taking afearfulpunishment.Daybydayitsvoidshieldsflickeredblueandthenyellow.Theywerestrainingtothelimits.‘Sir?’Bendiktturned.SergeantTysonwasmakinghiswaytowardshim,stillpullinghisthick,ice-worldgloveson.BendikthadbeenleaningfarovertheparapetandhepulledbackasTysonjoinedhim.‘Howdoyouthinkit’sgoingdownthere?’Tysonasked.Thelance-lightningstrobedtheirfaces.‘They’retakingahellofapounding.’Tysonnodded.‘Itwon’tbelong,’Bendiktsaid.Tyson’sexpressionsaiditwouldnot.Hepuffedouthischeeks.‘Youshouldgetsomerest,sir,’hesaid.Anotherfuriousbroadsideagainstthecityrolledlikethunder.‘I was born in that city,’ Bendikt said. ‘I know her switchback streets andarmouredintersectionslikethebuttofmylasrifle.’They stood, lightning casting stark shadows across their faces as the orbitalbombardmentcontinued.Themountainbeneath their feet trembledasa titanicexplosion on the plains lit the clouds from within, like a distant, red nebula.There was a series of gathering blasts, each one big enough to show yellow

through the gloom, and Bendikt felt his guts knot themselves together as theboom!rolledacrosstheplaintowardshim.The debris rose miles high: chunks of rockcrete, bastions, armouries anddefenders,likedust,risingintotheupperatmosphere.KasrHaligwasnomore.The very fate of the Imperium of Man hung in the balance, and there wasnothingheorhisCadian101stcoulddo.‘Wecanstayready,’Tysonsaidbywayofconsolation.‘Stayfresh.Wecankeepourselvessharp.’Bendiktmadenocomment.Hehadnomorewords left.Hewasstuckon themountainfastness,andCadiawasdyingbeforehiseyes.

Ontheonehundredandtenthdayofthewar,Bendiktwasstrippedtothewaistdoingpress-upswhenthevox-unitcrackled.Hefumbledforamoment,dustedhishandsoff.‘Tyson?’Theotherman’svoicewasindistinctwiththegalethatwasblowingoutside.‘Say that again.’Bendikthad to raisehisvoice tobeheard. ‘Again,’he said.There was a long pause as his words echoed in the vast empty chamber. ‘AValkyrie?Areyousure?’‘Yes,’Tysonsaid.‘Cominginnow.’Bendikt cursed as the link was dropped. He pulled his undershirt and flak-jacketonandstartedtohurryupthroughtheemptyhangars.Thevoxlinkwasre-establishedasheexitedthestairwell.Tysonwascallinghisname.TheurgencyofhisvoicesentachilloffearthroughBendikt,thesoundofhisfootstepsgatheringspeeduntilhewasrunning.‘Bendikt!’ Tyson said. ‘You have to come. He’s here!’ Tyson was practicallyshoutingintothevox.‘Who?’Bendiktdemanded.Tysoncouldbarelycontainhimself.‘It’sfrekkingCreed!He’shere.’

PARTTWOTHEWARFORCADIA

ONEKASRMYRAK,CADIASECUNDUSDAY107OFTHEWARFORCADIA

Onthescuffedblackboardof theruinedschola the lessonfor thedaywasstilldrawninchalk.Donotwasteyourtears;Iwasnotborntowatchtheworldgrowdim…For the students of Schola 5,GuildQuarter,KasrMyrak, teaching hadendedwhenthewarforCadiahadbegun,rightthereinmid-sentence,butMinkaknewtheendofthequote.EveryCadianknewit.She’dspenthoursasachildrecitingherQuotesImperium.Shepaused.Minkahadbeena studenthere just fouryears earlier.Hermind’s eye lookedback into her own past: the hall full of young cadets, girlswith their hair cutmilitary-short,boys leaningby the lockerdoors, the tall,beardedschola-majorstandingwithonearmbracedstraightagainstthewall,talkingarmouredtacticswithaslight,blondecadetinponytails.Minkaallowedherselfasecond’sindulgence:shesmelledthecarbolicsoaponherfreshlypressedclothes,themetallicscentofgunlubricantonherhands,thethrillofanhourabouttobespentintheImperialchapel–butshecouldfeeltheimpatience of her partner, Yegor – the last survivor of the 93rd MordianIronguard.Medi-packs,guns,ammo,batterypacks,food–therehadtobesomethinghere

ofuse.Minka barely noticed the stink as she picked herway around the room, theninto theofficers’mess.Lockerdoorshungopen,booksandfilesandscrapsofpaperlitteredthefloor.Therewasabloodstainonthepolishedtiles,thepuddlesmearedwherethebodyhadbeendraggedaway.Three bodies lay half buried under the fallen roof-girders at the end of thecorridor.They’dbeenthereforweeks.Thehollowsoftheireyeshadfilledwithdust,assnowfilledawinterfootprint.Shecheckedthepocketsofthedeadmenandgothalfalho-stickandahand-wornaquilacharm.‘Anything?’theMordianasked.‘Justthis.’Sheheldouttheaquila.Shewasn’tanidiot.Shekeptthelho-stickforherself.

FightingbrokeoutonEuphratesStreet.Therewasaflashofaflare,thecrumpofamortar, then thedull-rattleburstsofadistantautocannon.Neitherpaused.Youonlyheardtheshellsthatweremeantforsomeoneelse.Minka led themthroughadoorwayinto theenclosedsquareof thedrillyard.Therockcreteslabsweremarkedwithwhitelines.Someonehadsetupawaterstand,butthemetaldrumwasriddledwithauto-riflerounds,andthebottomwasempty.Minkapointed.‘Look!’Yegorcouldn’tseeanything.‘There,’shesaid,andtookhisarm.‘Agunbarrel.Canyouseeit?’Yegorsquinted.‘Coverme,’hesaid.Minkacrouchedinthecorneroftheyard,lascarbinetohershoulder,asYegorcarefullypickedhishand-andfootholds.Heslippedbackalittleashemadehiswaytothebrokenwindow.Theironshuttershungbyasinglehinge.Yegorhadtoworkhiswayroundtotheexposedsideofthebuilding.Minkacaughthislookandmovedacrosstheyardtocoverhim.Apairofcorpseshungfromthecast-ironstreetlightsatthefrontoftheschool.The dead bodies revolved slowly on their axis. They had not been thereyesterday.Minkaslidher lascarbine forward.Shegavea lowwarningwhistle,andYegorpausedandpointed.Heretic,hissignalsaid.Minkanoddedandputhercarbinetohershoulder.Itwastimetokill.

The captains of Battlefleet Cadia had kept their ships at the highest state ofpreparedness.

TheyhadbatteredtheBlackFleetonitsapproachtotheplanet,untiltheterribleunderstandingcametothemthattheyhadbeentryingtofendoffonlyasinglesquadronofAbaddon’sgreatarmada.WhenthefullstrengthoftheDespoilerhadarrivedatCadiaithadsmasheditswaythroughtheveterandefences,orbitalandfleet-based,andithadturnedtheskiesofCadiablack,blottingoutthesunandstars.Landers,battleships,tankersanddrop-shipshadclusteredoverCadialikefliesonacorpse.Orbitalbombardmentshadbroughtnightasdebriswasthrownintothe stratosphere, then the first landings brought millions of cultists onto theplanet.Where theycamefromorwhat thesefanaticscalled themselvesMinkadidn’tknow or care. The cultists were undisciplined, untrained, unable to hold theirownagainst theeliteCadian troops.All theyhadwasmadnessandferocity. Itwaslikefightingrabiddogs.InKasrMyraktheloyalistshaddubbedthem‘theUnnamed’.

MinkalettheUnnamedcomeforward.Hewasgaunt,hive-worldpale,hishandsshaking.Therewasbloodabouthismouth.Itdidn’tlooklikehis.Hehadnotseenher.Minkabracedherself.Thelas-bolthithiminthegutandhe went down like a wounded spider, bent double, legs and arms scrabblingwildlyintheair.Thesecondshothithimhighinthechest.Thistimehisbodyfellbackagainsttherockcreteroadslabs,andbloodbegantopuddleabouthim.

MagisterHouselayinUnnamedterritory,threeblockssouth,betweenEuphratesStreetandStatueSquare.RatlingsniperBelaggGrakklayontheseventhfloorandwaited.Hehadbeenbehindenemy lines for threedaysnow.The fightinghadswilledaroundandthroughthebuilding,andpassedonagain,likeatornado,oratidalwave.Andnowhewasamongthem.Itwashowhefought.Asmall,secretshadowwaitingforhismomenttostrike.Amortarteamhere,anofficerthere,justenoughtokeeptheenemydisorientedandwary.Eightfloorsup,withlas-batteriesforahundredandfiftyshots.Ahundredandfiftydeadheretics.Belaggcrawledforward.AnUnnamedwarpartywasmakingtheirwayalongChapelStreet,hunchedlike theywererunningintoastorm.Belaggpickedouttheleader.Heworeacommissar’sgreatcoatandhadapairofheadshangingathisbelt,aswordinhishand.Theheadswerefresh.Onelookedlikedemo-expertDrawling. The other like his bomb-maker, Eddard. Belagg didn’t waste timechecking.Heflippedthesafetyoff,suckedinafewlongbreaths,andaimed.

Nothing scared men more than a sniper shot, but the Unnamed didn’t evenpause.Theydidn’tduck.Eventhemanhehadshot.Thelas-bolthadhithimlowin thebackandhis legsweregone.Buthewaspumpedfullofstimmsandhemovedlikeatwo-leggedlizard,armsdragginghimalongthestreet,asmearofbloodontherockcretebehindhim.

Minkaheardashout.MoreUnnamedwerecoming.ShehissedupatYegortobequickandhecaughttheendofthegunbarrelandyanked.Astreamofrockcretedust slid down as he pulled himself higher. ‘It’s jammed,’ he hissed back andliftedanirongirdertoyanktheammofeedfree.Thesquaremetalboxsetoffanavalancheofrubbleanddust.Ithitthegroundwithafullthudofstubberrounds.TheMordianputhisshoulderunderthegirder.Theshoutswerecomingcloser.Theymusthaveseenthebody.‘Comeon!’MinkacalledandYegorputahandunderthegirderandgaveitashove.Thefizzofafusegaveherabaremoment’swarning.ShecaughtYegor’seye.Itwasclearheunderstood.Thebombwentoff.

CaptainRathSturmhadseeneverythingthegalaxycouldthrowathimandhadthescars,metalskull-plateandaugmeticeyetoproveit.He’dearnedhisveteranstripesonArmageddon.Amanwho’dfoughtgreenskinswashardtoscare.He was the commander of the survivors within the city. He’d risen to thatposition,notbyrankorpromotion,butbecausehelookedaftereachandeveryoneofhisfightersasiftheywerehisownfleshandblood.As the Unnamed hunted for survivors of the explosion, he came at a run,vaulting a sandbagged doorway, heavy inward-curved Brimlock kukri in onehand, bolt pistol in the other. The first threeUnnamed spun backwards as themass-reactiveshellspunched into them.The fourthwasuponhimbeforeRathcouldfire.Rathduckedanaxeandcutupwards,slashingtheheretic’sthroatoutwithhisheavykukri,shoulderedthecorpseoutofthewayanddroveforward.He took position in a doorway. ‘Find them!’ Rath shouted to the men whofollowed in hiswake.He did not look behind.He knew theywould hear.HeknewthereweremoreUnnamedtokill.Heshotthemastheychargeddownthestreet.SergeantTaavi foundYegor first.Hewasstillbreathing,butnot for long.Hemovedon.‘Here!’GuardsmanGunnelsaid.Therewasabootstickingoutfromtherubble.Taavipulledat theblocksand

threwthemaside.IfonewasYegortheotherhadtobeMinka.‘Isshedead?’Gunnelsaid.‘Idon’tknow,’Taavihissedashepulledtheblocksofrockcreteaside.

Therewasrockcreteinhermouthandnose.Minkakickedagainsttherubbleasthehandsreacheddowntofreeher.Theydraggedherup.Shespatthegritfromhermouth, stood unsteadily on her feet, carbine still in hand, and blinked hervisionclear.Someonewasholdingherface.ItwasTaavi–hiswideblueeyesstaringather.Hismouthwasmoving.Theexplosionwasstillringinginherears.Shereadhislips.‘Getback!’hewasshouting,butshecouldnot.Taavi seemed to understand. He pointed. The blast had reshaped the rubblebeforeher.IthadreshapedYegortoo.Hisarmendedinatornandraggedmessofclothandflappingflesh.Hislegswerewrong;hisbodywasfoldedintwo.‘Getback!’Taavishouted.Oneofthehereticshadanautogunwitharoundbarrel.Itflashedasitsprayedthewallaboveherhead.TaavishovedherbutMinkawouldnotleave.‘Yegor!’sheshouted,butitwastoolatefordebate.She was thrown over a shoulder, her ribs bruising as whoever carried herjoggedalong,andfoundherselfstaringdownattheground,eightfeetbelowher.

TWOKASRMYRAK

WhenthewarforCadiahadbrokenout, thedefenceofKasrMyrak lay in thehandsofGeneralStahl,atypicalhigh-rankingCadianveteranofahundredandfiftyyears’service.Drawnfromthearistocracy,hewaswelllikedandeffective,andputthedefencesintogoodorder.After the treachery at Tyrok Fields, Cadia was quickly swamped by traitorforces andKasrMyrakwas surrounded by awarband of perhaps tenmillion,who’dgatheredlikeinsectsontheplains.Theywerearabble.Theirassaultshadbeenhaphazardandlargelyineffectiveagainst the superior Cadian training and discipline, and their manner of wardisgusted the defenders. It was heedless, disorganised, relied on bodies, nottactics,andatfirstthehopesoftheCadianshadbeenhigh.KasrMyrak’sturnhadcomeontheforty-seconddayofthewarforCadia.After the void shields of their larger neighbour, Kasr Halig, had beenoverloaded, thevast fortresshadbeen tornapartbya seriesofexplosions thatwentfrommagazinetomagazine.Finally, the atomic reactorwent critical, and chunks of the citywere thrownupwardsbytheforceoftheblast,leavingacraterhalfamiledeep.Ahugepartofthesiegearmyhadbeendestroyedintheexplosions,buttheeliteforces–Iron

Warriorsanddisciplinedbandsoftraitorguard–hadalreadystartedmovingout.It had taken three days for the siege armies of the heretics to surroundKasrMyrak.TheCadianshadenduredarelentlessbombardment,partlyfromorbitingspaceships,andpartlyfromthevastarmiesontheplains.TheShockTroopershad retaliated with wall-mounted Basilisk batteries and vast tower-mounteddefence lasers.Theyhadpummelled theforcesof thehereticswithgreatblue-whiteboltsofenergythatstabbedoutintothegloom.Each day the Unnamed attacked like rabid dogs: snarling and slathering,bounding on without fear or pain or order, deploying massed armoured andinfantryassaultsmadeupofuntrained,inhumanscum.On the fourth day of the assault, spotters reported the first sight of iron-cladSpace Marines towering over the heretic hordes. Just the rumour of IronWarriorshadbroughtasolemnairtothemesshallsandguardchamberswithintheouterbastionwalls.TheIronWarriorswerehere;everyGuardsmanknewthatthefightforlifehadbegun.OvernightthehereticSpaceMarinesraisedgreatearthworksandbegantopushtowards the outer walls, keeping up their momentum despite the approachingbarrage.Tech-priestsdetectedthetremorofmole-minesexcavatingponderouslytowards them,while a stormof lance strikes raineddownon thevoid shields,makingtheairfizzwithozone.For aweek the fightingwas ferocious and bloody.During the day flocks ofarrow-shaped black bombers rained vast spiked frag charges and incendiarycanistersdownonthecitystreets.Atnight,theskieswerebarredwiththebeamsof streaming search lights and the red tracer fire ofHydra defence platforms;eachdawnbroughtthesightoftheIronWarriors’earthworkscreepinggraduallyclosertotheouterwalls.Demolition squads rushed out of armoured sally ports in up-armouredChimeras, their multi-lasers spewing out searing bolts. The Cadians threwthemselvesattheIronWarriorsbuthadtofighttheirwaythroughcultistslaves,whobluntedtheiradvancewithmeltabombsanddemolitioncharges.Few Cadians returned from these missions, but each attack slowed therelentlessassault forprecioushours.On the fifthday, troopson theWestGatefelt the tremor of mole-mines approaching the walls and teams of Cadianciviliansdugcounter-mines.TheCadianssentindemolitionsquadsoftheirown,thenfloodedtheIronWarriors’tunnelswithtoxicslimeandradioactivecoolants.

Itwason the afternoonof the fifth day that the first IronWarriorsmole-mineexplodedundertheNorth-EastBastion.Theblastwasimmense.Awholesectionofwall liftedintotheairandthencrasheddowninruins.Withahowl, tensofthousandsof cultists charged.Thenumber and furyof their charge rocked thedefendersbackandbroughtthemrightuptothecliffsofrubble.Afewcultistsstartedtoclamberupthesacredwallsofthekasrbeforetheblizzardoflasandautocannonroundscutthemdowninheaps.Onthesixthday,twomoremole-minesexplodednearthesouthgate,andtherewasferociousfighting,thistimehandtohand,asthehereticscrestedtherubblewallsandhadtobedrivenbackwithflamerandbayonet.The battle went on into the night, with repeated assaults of daemon tanks,hereticsandkill-teamsofBlackLegionAdeptusAstartesthatswoopedin,boltpistolsbarkingwitheachshot,chainswordssprayingbloodandgoreacrossthewalls.Ontheseventhday,wholesectionsoftheouterwallswerereducedtoashandrockcreterubble.Rath’s94thkasrkinhadheldthelinethatnightandtheenemy’sgrandassaultbeganafterdawn–afrenzied,howlingchargeofmutantsandhereticsandthosedriveninsanebytheviolenceandthedarkness.TenthousandUnnamedmadethefirstcharge.Theydiedtoaman,cutdownbyscathingsalvosofdisciplined lasrifle fire,witheringsupport fromheavybolterand autocannon squads, and precise shots from the surviving gun turrets andbastions.Thehereticslayinheapsten-deep,whenatlasttheyfellback,mewlingandhowlingcursesatthedefenders.Thateveningamole-minepenetratedthemagazine,deepinthebowelsoftherockcretebastion.Thearmouredwallsactedlikeasealontheexplosion,whichventedoutthroughthedoorsandloop-holesbeforeittoretheancientrockcretefortress apart. The void shields flickered and fell. Under a barrage of orbitalbombardmentsandmassedassaults,thewallshadbeenattackedatallpointsatonce,hemmedintothesouthbanksoftheMyrakRiver.Onthemorningoftheeighthday,thewarbandoftheBlackLegionchampionDruxusBalebatteredthedefenderswithclose-rangeVindicatorshells.OncetheCadians had been driven back, Druxus’ warbands charged across the opengroundinLandRaidersthatmountedtherubblecliffs,shruggingoffablizzardoflas-fire.Flamersgoutedoutunderthesmoke-filledsky.Assaultrampsslammeddownas bolters killed the last Guardsmen, then power armour-clad Black Legion

warriors stormed out, the mass-reactive shells of their bolters hitting thedefenderswith unerring aim, punching through carapace and flak armour andexplodingtheCadiansfromwithin.Thesudden,preciseandoverwhelmingassaultsweptthedefendersawayfromtheSouthernGatesanddownintothecity.Thehand-to-handfightingwasfierceandbrutal,astensofthousandsofhereticsswarmedupbehindthemanddrovetheCadiansback.General Stahl led the defence in person, a bodyguard of elite carapace-armoured kasrkin about him. For a moment they had thrown Druxus back,knockingBlackLegionTerminatorsoff thewalls, but then theChaosWarlordhadshovedhiswaytothefore.Hewas agiantwarrior inbaroquewarplate, baldhead coveredwithobscenetattoos.InthehandsoftheChaoschampionwasacracklingswordofbluefire.HesingledStahlout.‘For Cadia!’ the general shouted, and threw himself at the enemy. He hadfencedwiththefinestintheCadianShockTroop,andwithanheirloompowerswordandfaithintheEmperor,hefeltsureofvictory.His firstblowscoredadeepgroove in theTerminator’spauldron, the seconddrovethroughthelayersofablativearmour–afineblowthatdroveDruxusbackforamoment.ButDruxuswas ancient longbeforeStahlwasborn, and it tookmore than apowerswordtolayhimlow.Hecaughtthebladeinhisopenhandandbrokeitinhalfwithacrackleofenergy.Stahlrefusedtogiveway.Hedrewhishot-shotlaspistolandstoodhisground.‘InthenameoftheGodEmperorofMankind,’heshouted,asDruxuslaughed.‘TheFalseEmperor,’theChaoschampionsnarledashetossedawaytheshardsofthepowersword.HecaughtStahlbythechestandthrewhimtotheground.Stahlstaggeredbacktohisfeetashiskasrkinrantohisside.DruxuskilledthemallwithasweepofhisaxethatcutStahlinhalf.

Withthebreachinthewallandthedeathofthecommander,KasrMyrakhad,asfar as the forces of the Black Legion were concerned, fallen. Iron Warriors,BlackLegion and elitemortal unitsmoved on to the next siege and leftKasrMyraktobeplunderedbythemaddenedhordesofhereticsandcultists.Hopelessly outnumbered, the Cadians were driven back, block by block,exactingmassivecasualtiesontheenemy–butlossestheycouldaffordtotake.RathwasontheWestGatewhenthatlastassaultbegan.Hisregiment,the94th,

‘Brothers ofDeath’,massed heavy bolters that cleared broad kill zones abouttheirbastion.‘Never!’ he shouted shortly after the heretics’ grand assault began. Theirmanner of war disgusted Rath. It relied on insane, bestial ferocity. It lackedtraininganddiscipline.Andworstofall,itwaswinning.The next assault came minutes later, with the same result. Rath cursed andshoutedastheenemyfiredwildly,casuallysquanderingsupplies.Thedeadlaysix-deep before the eastern gate, where Rath stood with his men when newsbrokethatthesouthernwallshadbeenbreached.

Cadiawas not a planet; itwas a fortress built on a planetary scale, its naturalgeography reshaped to allowdefence in depth. Its cities, known as kasr,werefortresseswithresidentgarrisonsofhundredsofthousandsdesigned,notforthecomfortoftheirinhabitants,buttobedeathzonestoinvaders.Marketplacesandstreetcornersweresetwithbunkersandredoubtsandemplacements.Theyweredesigned to be defended for months, or years, if necessary. The long-deadarchitectsoftheImperiumhadmadenoconcessionsforcomfortorfashion.Anyattackwouldbemired in tunnels,switchbackroads,blockhousegroundfloors,overhangingbuildings,withpill-boxes andgun emplacementsbuilt into livingrooms,publicauditoriumsandmesshalls.Therewereammodumpsdeepinthebunkersofbakeriesandhab-blocks;hab-blockswith reinforcedbuttresses andvision slits forwindows; and therewerebastions with landing pads on their roofs, and roofs so thick with reinforcedrockcretethattheywerepracticallyinvulnerabletoanythingexcepttheheaviestbombardment.‘Take to the city!’ his commanding officer had shouted toRath. ‘Make thempayforeveryinch!Understand?’ItwasthelastorderRathhadbeengivenbyasuperiorofficer.Hewashisownmasternow.Nooneelseknewhowtodrivehimharder.

THREESTATUESQUARE

Forthelastsixdays,Rath’scompanyhadmadetheirbasealongthesouthsideofStatue Square. The monumental buildings there offered good cover from airattacksand theyhada symbolic significance.TheCadiansheldon,despiteallattacks.Thefieldhospitalfilledthenarrowgapbetweenthemuseumandtheveterans’hall.MoragGeran had to turn sideways to enter the gap.He setMinka downwithagentlenessthatbeliedhissize.Before thewar, allMinka had known about ogrynswas that theywere giantabhumans whose strengthmade up for a lack of intelligence. But Geran wasanythingbutstupid.Hiswidemouthandbluntbrownfangsdidnotworkwellonahumanlevel.SpeakingGothicseemedlikeagreateffortforhim,asifheweretranslatingeverythinghesaidfromgruntstowords,buthismismatchedeyes–onebrown,oneblue– spoke louder thanhisvoice.Hekept sayinghername.‘Ninka.Ninka.’Hisbrowsknotted,andhestareddownather,fullofcompassionandworry.‘I’m fine.’Minka pushed herself up gingerly.Her bodyhurt all over. Imagescamebacktoher:theexplosion,thedarkness,Yegorcrumpledinthedust.‘Frekk,’shesaid.‘Therewasastubber.’

Geranlookedalmostbashfulasheshowedherthestubberwithitsammofeed.‘Igotit,’hesaid.Hepulledtheboltback.Itpingedwithasatisfyingsoundofaround being loaded into the firing chamber. He grinned blunt brown teeth.‘Works!’hesaid.Minkaforcedasmile.Itseemedapoortrade.‘IkillforYegor,’Geransaid.‘Good,’shesaid.

ThesixhundredmenandwomenofRath’scompanywereallthatwasleftofthehundredandthirtythousanddefendersofKasrMyrakwhohadstartedthesiegea hundred and eight days earlier. Six hundred fighting men, women andchildren–at the lastcount,whichwas twodaysbefore.Twodaysofconstantretreat,whentheyhadfallenbacktothesouthernsideofStatueSquare.TheywereShockTroopers,mostlyofthe94th,45th,772ndandKasrMyrak’sown 87th. But there were others too,Whiteshields likeMinka, civilians, andsurvivorsofotherunitswhohadcometofightonCadia–regimentswhoserollcallshadoncenumberedinthethousands,butwerenowonlyabarehandfulofnames.On thatmorning theyheld all the ruins betweenStatueSquare and the river,where the tightly packed habs and warehouses and gantries lined the banks.Theyhadaboutamonthleftoffightingbeforetheywereallwipedout.Less,iftheUnnamedkeptupthisrateofattack.TheUnnamed had been attacking solidly for fifteen days now, thewaves ofhereticsrisingandcrashingandfallingback,likethewavesofthesea.Thetidewas rising asMedicae Rone clearedMinka and she dusted herself down andpickedherwaytothebarricadesonthesouthsideoftheblockadedstreet.ShelookedoutfromthesandbaggeddoorwayastheUnnamedcamedownthebroadthoroughfareofImperialParade.Minkawincedasshepulledhercarbinetohershoulder,whichhurt.Twenty,thenfifty,andsuddenlytherewerehundredsofthem,awallofbodieswithaxesandclubsandserratedknives.Sheaimedandfiredandwinced,andaimedagain.AllaroundherRath’scompanytookuptheirpositions.Theylaybehindloop-holes,knelt insandbaggedwindowsanddoorways,perched in theruinsas theUnnamedchargedintotheopen.They howled as they charged, andweremowndownby enfilading fire fromheavy-weapons teams hidden in the flanking buildings on Gold Street andMuseum Street.Minute afterminute, hour after hour, they kept coming, until

Minka’s shoulder was agony and her trigger finger ached, and she willed –prayed–forthistobeover.‘Holdfire,’Rathshoutedsuddenly.‘Holdyourfire!’Minkapaused,andonebyone thefightersabouther lowered their rifles.ButtheUnnamedwere still falling, andMinka suddenly sawwhatRath had seen.Theirenemieswerefallingtoshotsfiredfrombehind.‘Thinkourreliefhascome?’SergeantTaaviasked.Rath gave him a withering look. There was no relief. ‘The forces of Chaosunderstand only force. What this means is that there’s something bigger andtougherpushingtheUnnamedforward.Andweneedtoknowwhotheyare…’HegaveTaaviameaningfullook.

Fiveminutes later Sergeant Taavi was crouched in the sewerwith five hand-pickedmen.He loosenedhisknife in itsboot-sheathandnoddedto therestofhismakeshiftsquad:Theo,Malfred,UlantandDelunt.‘Youshouldhavekeptyourmouthshut,’Deluntsaid.‘Shouldhavenever joined theGuard.’Taavi laughed.He’dgrownup inKasrMyrakandifhewasgoingtodieitseemedfittingthatheshouldbebackheretodoso.Heknewthesewerswell.Ithadbeenpartofhiscadettraining–toknowthecity above andbelowground– andbefore thewar,Taavi hadknown a prettyyoungcadetwholivedinoneoftheseblocks.They’dhungaroundinthesewerstogetheruntilhewasshippedoff-world.Alyonawashername.Hersmellcamebacktohim,foramoment,despitethestinkofsmokeandashesallabouthim.Taavicheckedthegrenadeonhisbandolier.He’dtakenitfromafellowCadian’scorpsethatmorning,andhepatteditforluck.Rath’ssignalcame–asimpletap-tap,tap-tap-tapofafingeronavox-bead.Taavigaveeachofhissquadacurtnod.Hisshotgunwas loadedwithall theshellshehadleft.HemadeasilentprayertotheGoldenThroneandthrewthewoodencoverback.

BeingsmallhadneverbeenaproblemforBelaggGrakk.Notallerthanahumanchild, the ratling could clamber through holes that no man could ever getthrough.Hepulledhimselfup,floorbyfloor,toabedroominwhathadbeenawell-appointedhab-blockonthesouthernsideofStatueSquare.Thebroadpalewoodfloorboardswerestrewnwithpagesofbooks.Therewereclothes–greywith ash and dust – lying beside a split drawer. Therewas a hole in thewallwhere a missile had impacted, and a charred stink of explosives. He threw

himself down on the floorboards by the window, crawled forward, breathingheavily,andpulledhislong-lasupbesidehim.Belowhim, the streetsas farasEuphratesStreetwere filledwithcolumnsofhereticfighters.Heusedhisscopetofindatarget.Anenemytankcommander,at the back of a column, standing in his turret, signalling to the driver behindhim.Belaggthenpulledinthreelong,slowbreathstosteadyhisaim.Helineduptheman’shead in thecentreof the target.Thedistant torsobuckedforwardas theroundhithim.Thecolumnslowedasthetroopsscannedforthesniper.Belagg picked out a sergeant, marching alongside the tanks, gesticulatingwildly to hismen. He fired again, a head shot that dropped the heretic in aninstant.Thecolumnhadstoppednowandhepickedanother.Andfired.

Taaviwasupandoutinamoment,crouchingintheentrancehallofahab-block.Therewasashape in thedarknesswhere thedoorsused tobe.Hefired twice.Heardalowgruntofpain,pulledthegrenadefree.Keptmoving.Shots rangout in the street outside.A shadow leaped at him.Hewason thefallen man in a second, smashing the butt of his gun into the heretic’s face.Bonesandteethshatteredunderhisblows.Taavi ducked shots that hit the plaster above his head. Heretic voices wereharsh and foreign. He threw himself against the hab wall and stole a glancethrough the empty window. Lasrifle shots sprayed the wall outside. Woodensplintsflewupastheframessmouldered.Taavifelttheimpactsthroughthewallathisback.Hebitthepinandcountedtofive,tossingthegrenadeoutintothestreet.‘Krak!’ he shouted an instant before the explosivewent off, filling the streetwithshrapnel.Taavileapedthroughthewindowandlandedinthestreet.Hefiredone-handed,hitting a heretic full in the face.He ripped the autogun from the dyingman’sfingers.TaaviwasaCadian.He’d learned tostripagunbeforehewas tallenough toreachadoorhandle.ChildrenonCadiadiditblindfolded.Heknewwhatitwasfromtheweightandthebalance.Auto-rifle.ModifiedM40,Armageddonpattern.Roundmagazine.Thirtysolidslugs.Heavyhitter.Taavi’s finger was already on the trigger as he swung round. He fired shortbursts,knockingthreehereticsbackagainst thefarwall.Abodyshot tookone

out,aheadshotslammedanothersideways.Taavikeptlow,firingasbulletsandlas-boltsstitchedtheairabouthim.A red-uniformed fighter appeared round the corner and ran at Taaviwith anaxe.Taavilettheauto-riflebuckinhishandsasthesolidslugsslammedintotheheretic’schest.Thehereticdancedlikeapuppetonitsstrings.Itwasagloriousmomentofexcess.Thehereticfelldeadafewfeetaway,black-spikedhelmetringingoutagainstthe rockcrete floor.Taavicroucheddownandpulled thebodyover.Thecollarbadgewasstitchedwithtwoentwinedletters,VC.‘Rath,’hehissedintothevox-bead.‘Contact.Guesswho’sintown?’‘TheSistersofOurMartyredLady,’Rathsaid.‘Youwish.VolscaniCataphracts.’Rathlaughedhumourlessly.‘Great.Nowgetbackhere.’Taavibundledhismentotheseweropening.Theo was last back in. Taavi was about to follow when he felt vibrationsthroughhisboots.AtthefarendofImperialProcession,thedistinctiveshapeofaLemanRuss appeared from a side street, exhaust puffing black promethiumfumes. It turned for amomenton its tracksand faced the street.Thenanothertankappeared,andanother,theirbannersofhumanskinflappingwetlyastheyacceleratedtowardshim.‘They’vegottanks,’hevoxed.‘Howmany?’‘Well,Isawsix.’Rathcursed.‘Thiswillbefun.’

Atthesouth-easterncornerofStatueSquarestoodtheruinsofahab-block.Therest of the row was made up of monumental edifices: the vast hulk of theVeterans’Hall,andnexttoittheMuseumofResistance,withtheinbuiltchapeltoStHallows.Thebuildings lookedoutonto thesquare,andup the triangularpedimentofthemuseumthewhitemarblefiguresofCadiansoldiersmarchedinstep.ThevastbuildingshadgiventheCadiansasolidhundredandfiftyyardsofwallto defend, but it was different resisting tanks. The high ceilings and massiveblockswouldoffer littledefenceagainstordnance.Oneshotand theweightofthe walls would crash down. That did not hold them back; the defendersscrambledforpositionastheVolscaniarmouredcolumnscameon.Minkaranupthebroadstepsof theMuseumofResistance.Theinnerhallof

the museum was dark and empty and scattered with paper, ration boxes andchipsofstone.Fromeachofthethreedoorways,galleriesopenedupaheadandtoeitherside.Theexhibitsoftanksandequipmentandmedalshadbeenlockedawayinthecellarsorscavengedforthebattle.Allthatremainedweretheemptypedestals,theuniformedmannequins–nowbundledupagainstthewall–andthebattle-scarredbannersofKasrMyrak’shomeregiments.Shecouldheartheshoutsfromtherearofthemuseum,whereloop-holesandwindowsgavefinefieldsoffiresouth,towardstheVolscaniattack.ShetooktheCastellanHall,wheretwoofKonn’ssquadwereloadingamissilelauncher.Therest had taken up position at the barricaded windows – standing to fire, thenduckingbackagain.Geranwasat the far endof thehall,hunchedover theheavy stubber, tonguebetweenhisteethasheconcentratedonloadinganewammobeltintoit.‘Needhelp?’Minkashouted,buttheogryngrowledashefinallygotthefiddlyshellstoload.Heheldthestubberone-handed,hosedthestreetwithroundsandgrinned.‘Youstandwithme?’Minkanodded.She took the opposite side of thewindowand risked a quicklook.Volscanitankswerecomingdowntheroadinsinglefile.AttheheadwasaChimera,itsmulti-laserturnedforty-fivedegreestotheleft.Shotsflaredoutinshortburstsofredbolts.Thetankcommanderwasstandinginthecupola.Minkafired three times. Her aim was out. She cursed and fired once more, but herchargewasrunningout.Frekk,shecursed.Butasshe fumbled foranewbatterypackamissilearcedoutfromthemuseumwindowsandhittheChimeraonthenose.Therewas a blast ofwhite smoke, and then a pause before the turret of theChimerawasrippedoffwitharoarofyellowflame.Minkaslammedanewlas-batteryintoplaceastheburningChimerawaspushedaside,andthedistinctiveshapeofaDemolisher-patternLemanRussfilledthestreet.Thetankturnedforamomentonitstracks,swivellingitsfixedguntowardsthebackwalloftheMuseumofResistance.Volscanisquadsstartedtocharge.Geranunloadedhisripperguninafuriousfusilladeoflead.Therewasaping!asthemagazineranempty.GeranlookeddownconfusedandthentherewasalowroarastheLemanRussfired.Theshellhit theStJosmanewing.Throughtheopengalleries,Minkasawtheshouldersofthebuildingseemtoshrugforamomentbeforethewholefacadecollapsedintothestreetbesidethem.The smoking Demolisher barrel swung towards where Minka stood as the

Volscanistartedtoscrambleupinto themuseum.ShehadtograbGeran’sarmwithbothhands.‘Comeon!’sheshouted.‘Quick!’

FOURTHEMUSEUMOFRESISTANCE

Belagg knew he should be falling back, but the Volscani standard-bearer wasoblivious, and the oblivious made the most satisfying targets. He aimed andfired, and paused to watch the round hit. The banner fell behind the raggedsilhouetteoftheruins.Therewasagirderwalkbetweenthisbuildingandthenext.Heputonearmouttobalanceashecrossedthebriefpatchofopensky,thenfellbackbehindcoverintothenextbuilding.Hecarriedon,droppingdowntwomorefloorsintoaruinacrosstheroadfromtheVeterans’Hall.Hewaswalking quickly now, through a long hallway deepwith papers as aforestinautumniswithleaves.Belowhim,hecouldheartheroarandshoutsofbattle.Itdidn’tconcernhim.Asniperwasseparatefromallthat.Hekilledfromadistance.Hewasbarelyseen,andthenhewasmovingoncemore.Belaggsuddenly felt thathewasbeingwatched.He turned–nothingbut thelong empty hallway, open to the sky. There was a staircase that led down tostreetlevel,buttheVolscaniweremakinggoodprogress,andhedecidedtotakeanotherhigh-beamwalkwaybackintoHabTyrok.Thatfeelingagain.Heturned–quickerthistime–nothing.

ButBelagghad instincts,andnowhisheartwasbeating.Hewiped thesweatfromhis palms, crouched down and looked all about him.He started forwardandranstraightintoagiantboot,insmoothblue-blackplate.Howanythingthislargeandheavyhadcreptuponhim,hecouldnotguess,buthehadseenenoughoftheImperiumofMantoknowpowerarmourwhenhesawit.HehadwitnessedtheAdeptusAstartesoncebefore,fightingonaworldnamedHargalPrime,whenhe’dbeenlyingintheupperbranchesofacoraltreeastheskyfilledwithburningcontrails.Adroppodhadlandedfiftyfeettohisright.Ithadsmasheditswaydownthroughthestonebranchesoftheforestandscoredalongblacklinedownthetrunkofthecoraltree.Onedoorwouldnotopen,buttheresthadslammeddownandtengoldenarmouredSpaceMarineswereoutinamoment,splittingintotwosquads,andkilling.Belagghadwatchedinawe.TheAdeptusAstarteshadshruggedofftheimpactsfromaxeorcrudeballisticweaponry.Hehadalmostcriedwatchingthebeautyof their warfare. Then one of the warriors had turned towards him andpinpointedhisposition,bolteralreadyraisedtofire.Belagg had gone stiffwith terror, knowing that hewould die.But the SpaceMarinehadpausedandnodded towardshimas if to say,youand I areon thesameside,littlewarrior.ThatmemorypassedthroughBelaggashelookedupat thevastshapebeforehim, from greave to knee plate, groin, piping, chest and head. Images werecarvedtherethatwerehardtosee,buthesawthepalewetskin,slappedoveronepauldron,andknewfromtheholesthereinthatthisthinghadoncebeenhuman.When his gaze reached thewarrior’s faceBelagg immediatelywished that hehadnotlooked.

The Volscani Cataphracts swarmed through the holes in the museum wall,clearing each hall with flamers and grenades before storming on to the next.Minka was with Konn’s squad and Geran as they retreated back through thegalleriestowardstheentrancehall.Geranusedthestubberasaclub,buthewasbleedingfromadozenwoundsashebroughtuptherear.ThelastMinkasawofhimhewasstandingintheruinofa double doorway when suddenly the room was filled with long plumes offlamingpromethium.TheVolscaniwereonlyyardsbehind.Ashotgrazedhershoulderarmour.Shethrewherselfthroughadoorway.ThedarkshapeofaVolscanitrooperwassilhouettedbyflames.Minkaduckedandran at him.Desperationdroveher harder than she had ever thought she could

fight.Sherammedherbayonetintohischest.Ifhecriedoutshedidnothearit.Agrenadeskitteredtowardsher.Konnwasshoutingather.Shethrewherselfdownonthegroundastheexplosionwentoff.Thepainwassuddenandhotandsharp.Sheputherhandupandsawherownblood.A lowwhoosh and then a titanic explosion in the gallery she had just beenstanding in. There were flames and dust.Minka had no idea which way wasforwardorback.Afigurecamethroughthesmoke.ItwasRath.Hepulledhercloseandshoutedintoherear.‘Getbackacrossthesquare!’Anothershell impactedthirtyyardstotheright.Shewasdownagain,spittingdust from her mouth. Rath dragged her back up. She hung in her oversizeduniformasRathheldherinonehand.Helookedherintheeyetomakesurethatshe understood. ‘Get back! Go!’ he shouted as another shell hit the museumwalls.

TheSpaceMarinestareddownatBelagg.Thegiantworeabluntbluehelmet,withornatebrassfittings,wheezingpipestrailingofftoeithersideandflickersoflightplayingoverthedarkbluearmour.Itseyeswerered,theredofcoalsinadarkened room – intense with the heat of hatred and cruelty. Belagg’s handsbegantoshake.Hedroppedhislong-lasanddesperatelyscrambledback.He knew that he was trapped. He had a better chance of survival throwinghimself off the building than staying here with this monster. Bestial, primaryinstincttoldhimthathisimpactwouldbeaswifterandeasierdeath.The giant reached out towards him, but Belagg was small. He twisted andturnedawayandflunghimselffromthebuilding.HehadabriefglimpseofChapelStreetrushingtowardshim.Partsofhislifeflashed through hismind as he fell. He regretted that he had not killedmoreheretics inhis time.Heregrettedmany things.Butmore thananythingBelaggfelttriumphthathehadescapeddeathatthehandsofthisterriblemonstrosity.From eight storeys high, impactwith the ground below should be brutal andinstant.ForalowlymemberoftheAstraMilitarum,theprospectofacleandeathwasalmostthebestthatawarriorcouldhopefor.That fact consoledBelagg in the seconds as he fell.Hewas oblivious to thephysicsofhissituation.Hedidnotcarethatthedensityofaplanet’satmospheredeterminedhow fastyou fell.Speedwasdeterminedby themassof anobjectanditsresistancetoair.Heavierobjectsfellfasterthanlighterones.Allthiswasofpassinginteresttotheratling.Inmoments,hewouldbedead.

Speedwasdeterminedbythemassofanobjectanditsresistancetoair.

It was a lesson that the Night Lord, Asseb Krieg, had learned thousands ofyearsinthepast.Hewaswaitingfor theratlingat thebottomof thebuilding,asachildwouldwaittocatchatoythatwasdroppedfromahighwindow.Hecaughthiminonehandandheldhimup,closetohisface.Insidethehelmet,hisNightLord’sliplessmouthsmiled.‘No,’AssebKriegsaidastheratlingscreamed.‘You’renotdead.’Therewasalong,deliciouspause,astheNightLordadded,‘Yet.’

Taavidrew in adeepbreath as thehab-blockwall explodedoutwards into thestreet. The Volscani armour was smashing its way towards them from threedirections at once. Through the cloud of dust and debris came the blunt,scratched andheavily armoured front platesof aLemanRussDemolisher, theturret traversingtowardsthebunker.Hissquaddidn’thaveanythingthatcouldhurtthisbeast.Notunless…‘I’vegotitworking,’GuardsmanRawlinhissed.Hehadameltaguninhishand.Itwasonethey’dfound,butsomeheretichaddoneafrekk-jobonitwithaRyzaammochargethatwasnevergoingtofit.‘Yousure?’Rawlinpulledaface.‘Sure,’hesaid.‘I’mwithyou,’Taavi said.Fromabove therecame thepatterofheavybolterfirestartingagain.Short,precisesalvos.Conservingammo.TheDemolisher’sbluntsnoutappearedagain.Rawlinthrewhimselfdownontotheground, aimed, and fired.The air rippled as the super-chargedbeam racedout.Taavifelttheheatonhischeeks.Itmeltedasmall,neatholeinthearmourplates,throwingmoltenslagintothecrampedinterior.The explosion blew thewall downon top of them.Something slammed intoTaavi’sleg.Itfeltlikehe’dbeenhitbyasledgehammer.Throne!Hetriedtopullfree.Therewerefootsteps,strugglingthroughtherubble.Volscani. Taavi scrabbled for his lasrifle.Of all theways to die, he thought.Pinnedtotheground.Thehunterstoodoverhim.‘Youstayingthere?’avoicesaid.‘Rath?Wheredidyoucomefrom?’‘Icouldn’tletyouleavethis,couldI?’Rathheldupthemeltagun.‘Rawlin?’

‘Dead.Canyougetout?’‘Ifyoumovethis,’Taavisaid.Rath put his shoulder under themetal spar and lifted. Taavi dragged his legfree.‘Broken?’‘Idon’tthinkso,’Taavisaid.‘Good,’Rathsaid.‘Here,takemyshoulder.’

Rath’s company fell back across the square as best they could. Someof thempicked their way through the side streets, others tried to use the avenues ofblackenedtreestumpsforcover.Sergeant Taavi limped back. He took shelter halfway across the square withabout fifteenother troopers, in the ruinsof apublic latrine.Hekickeda loop-hole through thewall togivehimaviewup to thesouth-eastcornerofStatueSquare.Volscaniwere picking theirway through shell holes and barbedwire,overdeadbodiesandblackened,half-buried tanksand transports, sand-baggedwindows,doorwaysandseweroutlets.Taavi firedabriefsalvoofshotsas theVolscanistartedtochargeacrossthesquare.They let the Volscani come on into the killing zone then opened fire witheverythingtheyhad.Forafewhundredfighters,thefirepowertheyputoutwasdevastating. Statue Squarewas alight with las-bolts, autocannon shells, heavyboltershotsandgrenades.The combined firepower ripped through theVolscani,mowing themdown inheaps.The Volscani foot-sloggers came on twice more, and each time they werepunished.Rath’scompanyhadknownthattheywouldbedrivenbackacrossthesquareandhadpreparedforjustthateventuality,soastheVolscanitankspushedinto Statue Square they were ready. The lead tanks were ripped apart withlascannonsanddemocharges,andafterafuriousfirefightthearmouredcolumnsgroundtoahalt.

Nextmorning the front lines had been shunted up to the north side of StatueSquare.MedicaeRonehadlaidouthisequipmentandwassweepingthedirtfromhisnewfieldhospitalasTaavientered.Itlookedasifthemedichadagedtenyears.‘Sergeant,’hesaidbywayofgreeting.‘Howdoyoulikemynewfacility?’Taavi tookinthelineofdirtymattresses,salvagedfromtheruins, laidoutonthegreymarblefloor.Ronegesturedtoapaddedvelvetarmchair.Taavisat.His

handscuppedthepolishedendsofthechair’sarms.‘So,’Ronesaid,seeingthebloodandthewound.‘Yourleg.’‘Yeah.Awallfellonme.Ididn’trealisethatsomeonehadshotmeuntilIsawthehole.’Thelas-roundhadburnedaneatroundhole,agenerousthumb-sizeindiameter,intothefabricofhistrousers.‘Noideawhen,’Taavisaid.Heunbuckledhistrousersandslidthemdownasfarashisknees.Hisownskinlookedpaleagainstthedarkofthecrustedbloodandscorchedwoundmark.Ronesuckedabreathinbetweenhisteeth.‘Looksclean,’hesaidatlast.‘Justmissedthefemoralartery.’Taavinodded.‘ThinkI’lllive?’Ronelookedupandlaughed.‘Well,youwon’tdiefromthis.’Themedicdidn’thavemuchtobindthewoundupwith,buthegaveitadustingwithcountersepticpowderandthenbounditupwithastripofboiledclothcutfromaCadiangreatcoat.‘There,’RonesaidasTaavipulledhistrousersbackup.‘Goodasnew.Nowgetbackoutthere.’

Taavipickedhiswayout intothestreet.Exhaustedsurvivorscrept throughtheruinsasgreylightspreadoverthecity.Rath’s company had made their new front line along the north side of thesquare,wherearockcreterevetmentliftedthefoundationsofthefinehab-blockstwenty feet above the floor. The captain had made his command post in thecellarofaretiredgeneral’soak-lineddrawingroom.Thewallswerehungwithancientportraitsofmilitaryfigures,abrokenmirrorhungoveranornatebrassfireplace, and the leather sofa had been torn open, pale hair stuffing strewnacrossthefloor.TaavifoundRathonthefrontline,asthecaptainlookedoutacrossthesquare.TheVolscaniwerenowdugintothebuildingsthathadbeenhometwenty-fourhoursearlier.Onehalfofthemuseumhadcollapsed.TheVolscanihadtorntheaquila from the facade of the Veterans’ Hall and themarching figures on themuseumpedimenthadbeenprisedfromthewallandlaysmashedonthebroadstairs.Taavicouldseetheredfigures.Therewerehundredsofthem.‘Whydon’ttheyattackagain?’Rathdidn’tknow.‘TheforcesofChaosareeasilydistracted.’Therewasalongpause.Taavi’seyeswerewideandstaring.‘Howmanydidwelose?’‘Ahundredandforty-six.’

Taavihadfearedthey’dlostmore.Rath listed the missing squads. ‘Rendal and his men got crushed in themuseum.Childe’s squadwere trapped in theVeterans’Hall.They cameonusfasterthanI’dfeared.’Hepaused.‘How’stheleg?’‘I’lllive,apparently.’Rathlaughed.‘Haveyoueaten?’Taavi shookhis head.He hadn’t even thought about it, but nowhis stomachrangempty.Rathturnedtohim.‘Goeat.’

MinkacouldsmellthefoodasGunnelandMalfredgotapotofslab-stewtotheboil.They had set up the canteen next door, in the panelled library, the tomes ofmilitary history making a ready supply of fuel. Gunnel had lost a hand. Thestumpendedhalfwaytohiselbow.Ithadbeenbandaged,andhewasclearlystillgetting used to themissing limb, swearing profusely as he tried towork one-handed.OlivetwassettingthevoxupinRath’sHQ.Hewasayounglad,andlikeherhadstartedthewarasaWhiteshield.Olivetlookedup,sawMinka,andseemedatalossastowhattosay.‘So,’hestarted.‘Yegordied?’Minkanodded.Olivetpulledaface.‘I’msorry.’Minka looked down. Yegor’s death felt like an age ago. She couldn’tunderstandwhyhewasstilltalkingaboutit,thenrealiseditwaslessthanadaysinceshe’dbeenpickingherwaythroughtheruinedschola.Sheshookherself.OlivetwastuningthevoxintotheLordCastellan’schannel.‘Howlong?’shesaid.Olivetcheckedhischronometer.‘Fiveminutes.’Shenodded.‘I’lljustsitdownhere.’Shecroucheddownandleanedagainstthewall.Ashadowpassedoverher.Rathtappedheronthehelmet.‘Cheerup,’hesaid.Minka pulled her helmet down lowover her face.FlowerofCadia began toplayoverthevox.‘Turnitup,’Rathsaidas thenotesofFlowerofCadia fellawayandCreed’svoicefilledthesilence.‘PeopleofCadia.Brothersinarms,warriorsallofyou.YouaskmewhatIwantfrom you. I shall tell you.But first, good news.Our forces aremoving across

manyfronts.Wearedrivingtheenemyback…’Creedlistedunitsandbattlesandlittlevictories,reportsofenemyretreats,brigadesdestroyed,objectivesreached.‘Butbrothersandsisters,Ineedyourhelp.‘We face a monstrous evil with resolve, with courage, with the faith of theunconquerable Imperium of Mankind! We have trapped the enemy upon ourbarbs–letusholdhimhere,whiletheImperiumpreparesthecounter-strikethatwilldestroyhimutterly!’At theendof thebroadcast,Creedspokewithrousingdefiance. ‘Iaskofyouthis.Iaskyoutodefytheenemywithallyourmight.Fightthemtothelast.Donotgiveground,unlessyoucaninflictmorepainuponourfoes.Donothope,forinhopeliesdespair!’Attheendhisgravellyvoicegroundouttwowords:‘Cadiastands!’Minkamouthedwithhim.But if the forcesofCadiaweredriving theenemyback,why,then,werethedefendersofKasrMyrakfightingwithoutsupport?Itdidn’tmakesense.ToMinka,itfeltliketheywerelosing.Badly.ShelookeduptoseeRathstaringather.Hisaugmeticeyeglowedwithadullredlight,asbalefulastheEyeofTerror.

TheElysionFields

ZufurtheHermeticdidnotcarethattherestofhiswarbandwerefightingaboutthewallsofKasrKraf.Theirangerandfurywashedoffhim,likeoil,oranotherman’sblood.Atleast thatwaswhathetoldhimself,but throughhishelmetheheard their shoutsandcurses, theirblood-curdlingoaths, thebarkof theirboltshells,andhefelthisheartsquicken,hispulsebegintopound,thebestialangerrisingwithinhimlikeafloodingwell.‘Whereareyou,Zufur?’SikaitheThricebornhailedhimoverthevox.IthadtakenSikaisixhourstorealisethatZufur’swarriorswerenotthere,onthebattlefield.Zufurcouldhavetakenoffenceat thelengthof timeit tooktheBlackLegioncaptain tonoticeZufur’swarbandwerenot slaughtering theirway through theruins of Kasr Kraf’s third ramparts. He heard the moan and throb of Sikai’schainaxe,themomentaryslowingofthebladeasitsnaggedonbone.‘AmIneeded?’Zufurresponded.‘Weneverneedyou,Hermetic!’Sikailaughed,andtherewasthesoundofhisbladechoppingagainandagainintodeadordyingmeat.Zufurignoredtheinsult.‘Iwillleavethekillingtoyou.’Sikailaughedoncemore.‘Youalwaysdo.’

In his mind’s eye, Zufur could see Sikai’s fanged mouth open in a smile.FightingonCadiawaspleasurable inawaythatnoneof themhadappreciatedbeforehand.Itwasjoyful.Exultant.Victorious.Zufurfelthisfistclench.Killingwas an itch that had been growing in intensity.He swatted the thought away.Zufur the Hermetic had deeper desires he had come to Cadia to fulfil. Theculminationofalifetime’sstudy.‘Ihavemoreimportantbusiness.’‘Whatcanbemoreimportantthankilling?’Sikaidemanded.Throughthevox,Zufurheardtheotherwarrior’schainbladeroaritsapproval.‘Youkillwithanaxe, Iworkwithsubtlerweapons. I think, ifyoucounted, Ihavemurderedmillionsmorethanyou.’‘You are always talking, Zufur. Put an axe in your hand.Wade through thebloodofyourfoes.’Zufurwasirritatedwithhimself.‘Youwade.Iwillswimthroughtheirblood.’Ashespokehesawtheforestappear.‘There,’hesaid.Thethingthatpilotedhiscrafthadbeenhumanonce.Zufurhadforgottentheman’sname,buthehadbeenperfectforZufur’sneeds.Allhe’dneededwereafewmodifications.Silencewasoneofthem.Thepilothadnotwillinglyconsentedtothealterations.Butthatdidnotmatter.Zufurdidnotlikehisslavestospeak.Nowribbedpinktubesranfromthepilot’smouthandeyes,his legshadbeenremoved,hishandsendedinfleshy tendrilsthatdisappearedintotheflightdeckconsoles.‘Bringusdown.’Thelandershudderedasitmadeitsdescent.‘There,’Zufurpointed.Thepilot’stendrilstensed.Therewasawetsloshoffluidsmovingthroughhisbodyand the tubesofhismouth rattled.SometimesZufur imagined that therewerewords in thewet sounds.He shouldhavehad theman’s larynx removedtoo,hethought.Thelandersettled.Thewetgurglesfromthepilotwenton,eventhoughtherewasnoonetohearthem.Zufur’swarbandwasalreadysecuring thearea.Heclimbeddownthecockpitladders.Hehadwaitedtenthousandyearsforthis.ZufurtheHermeticjumpedthelasttenfeetandlandedwithathudonthethingrass.Hehad lost count of thenumberof planets hehad set boot upon.Eachworldhaditsowntextureunderfoot,butnonewasquiteassatisfyingasCadia.Itwashard,butnotbrittle.Softenoughtoallowhumanstolive.He strode forward. The soil seemed to shrink at his touch. Its horrorwas assatisfyingasthestrugglesofhispilot.Zufurpausedforamomentandlookedup.

There,abovehim,amidthepurple-and-greenstainoftheEyeofTerror,washishome. Standing in this place was a delicious transgression. He felt like animprisonedslavewhofinds thedoorofhiscell leftopen,walksoutand looksbackontheholewherehehasbeenshutupforsolong.AnditwasnotjustbeingonCadiathatcounted.Hewashere,inthisparticularplace.Theverykeyhole,as itwere,for itwasnot theplanetofCadiathathadheldthewarpback,butthesestones.He turned togazeon them.Thestructures rosebeforehimlikea forest:eachoneunique,sublime,perfect.Thingsofbeauty,yes,but tormentalso,for thesewereAbaddon’sshackles.ZufuroftheBlackLegionhadstudiedthepylonsfortenthousandyears,buthehadneverhadthechancetotouchone–untilnow.Hestrodedowntherampofhis lander, the tubes in his nose filling his lungs with a sweet and sicklystimulant.Thepylonwaspalegrey, likemarble.Itstretchedupbeforehim,afour-sidedspike,ahundredyardstall.Justoneofthousandsthatfilledthevastplainsabouthim.Butthisonewascracked,andapiecehadshearedawayfromthespire.Zufurstrodeforward,lookingfortheone.Atlast,hefoundit:untouched,unscarred,perfect.Zufurremovedthegauntletofhissuitofpowerarmour.Thesepylonshadheldthewarpbacksince longbefore theHeresyofHorus.Fools likeSikai tried towinthewaragainsttheImperiumofManbykillingGuardsmenonebyone.Itwasashopelessastryingtoholdtheseabackwithyouropenhands.HumanitybredasquicklyasmenlikeSikaicouldkillthem.Zufurwasnotsofoolish.HehadbeenoneofthefirsttothrowinhislotwithAbaddon,oneofthefirst to join theBlackLegion.Abaddonhad seenwhatneeded tobedone.Hehad an understanding – a vision – that none of the others possessed. ZufurflatteredhimselfthathehadavaguesenseofwhatAbaddonsawclearly.Whentheyaimeditwasnotat the throatofahuman,oraSpaceMarine. Itwasatacity,aworld,anempire.ZufurhadnodoubtaboutthesuccessofAbaddon’sThirteenthBlackCrusade.ButtheChaosgodswerefickle.Justincase,hewouldbringapylonbacktohisarcho-smithyandlearnthesecretsofthepylonsofCadia.Helookedupattheperfectpylonandpressedhishandagainstit.Throughhisbare skin, a thrill ofwarmth and energy rushed into him.The pylon throbbedwithlife,likeaslow,persistentheartbeat.Itwasstrong,healthy,vibrant;afinespecimen.Hefeltrelief,hatredandthesweettasteofvengeance.Itwastheone

hewanted.Behindhim,fromthelandingramps,hisslavegangwasdescending.He turned to the gang leader, an augmented tech-priest that Zufur had takenfromAgripinaa,thepriest’shoodthrownbackoffhistattooedscalp.Hebowedandspokethroughsharpsteelteeth.‘Thisone,master?’‘Yes,’ Zufur exhaled. Hewatched as the excavators began to reverse off thelander. Teams of mind-slaved ogryn stumped down after it and stood in anuncertainpack,theirarmsslackattheirsides,waitingfororders.‘Careful,’Zufurtoldthepriest.‘Idonotwantascratchuponit.’

Ittookadayfortheexcavatorteamstolocatetherootsofthepylon.Spider-legcranesunfolded.Cablesweresecuredaboutit.Blackgantriesrose,andapairofcrane heads, like the legs of a prayingmantis, slowly unfolded and lifted thepylonstraightfromtheground.Thenextstepwascritical.Itwasnow,astheweightwastakenalongthelengthof the pylon, that any hidden fractures or imperfections could shatter Zufur’sprize.Hestoodtowatchasthelifterslowlyloweredthevastpylonontothebackofthetrackedcarrier.Gang leaders hurried back and forth, shouting, pointing, as the mind-slavedogryn moved slowly and stiffly to tighten or loosen the cables or adjust thepadding.At last, thepylonlaysupineandZufurfelt thepulsesofhisheartsslowoncemore.He had supervised the entire process, not needing to sleep. All the time theangrynoiseofbattlehadbeenfedthroughhishelmetvox.Itwasonlynowthathenoticedit,likeavaguelybuzzinginsectveeringtowardstheear.Theshouts,thescreams,bolters,chainswords,thethunderofordnanceblastingthrougharmour.‘Sikai.Howmanyhaveyoukilled?’Zufurasked.‘Eightthousand,sevenhundredandforty-six,’Sikaivoxed.‘Haveyoutakenthecityyet?’Therewasamoment’spause,duringwhichZufurcouldhearthefaintsoundofslaughteroverthevox.‘Itcannotbelong,’Sikaieventuallyreplied.Zufur laughed to himself. Hand-to-hand combat was such a slow way ofwinningawar.Sikaiandhisilkwerenothingmorethandistractionstokeeptheattentionofthedefendersawayfromtherealdanger.

Ahead,thelandwaspockedandbrokenbythepassageofwar,andallalongtheedgeofthepylonfieldsthevaststonestructureswerecrackedandbroken.It was over the ruins that the grey Land Raider ploughed.Wolf heads wereemblazonedonbothsides,andontheassaultrampsthecraftborecrossedaxes:thepersonalbadgeoftheWhiteWolves.TheLandRaiderledthehunt.Itturnedintothepylonforest,andtherestofthepackfollowed:boundingshapesofgreatFenrisianwolves,andbehindthemtheWulfen,somerunning,otherslopingalonglikehalf-apes,withtheirhandsonthegroundlikepaws.ThecompanyoftheWhiteWolveswasdwarfedbythevastpylonforest.Theyplungeddownintoadeepcrater,ahundredyardswide,overtheshatteredrocksfromabrokenpylon,andthentheysawthefoe.Mountedonasnarlingthunderwolf,OttartheWhitewaschief.Heledthepack,hisgreataxe,Lightbringer,shiningwith itsowninnerwhite light.Beforehim,between theavenuesofpylons,hecouldsee thebrassandblackof theenemylander.Thehereticshadpulledapylon from theground. It lay likea fangwrenchedfromitssocket.Ottarsneeredattheenemy.‘Lookatthem!Theywanttoremovethe pylons one by one! Fools! That will not help them! Forward, brothers.Forward!’Behindhim,hiscompanyhowledwithbattle-joy.The black power-armoured heretics reacted quickly. Precise bolter fire flaredtowardshim.Bolt-roundsricochetedoffthepylonedges.Ottarfeltthemimpactagainst his chest-plate, but the Black Legion fell back as the ogryn guardsstumpedforward.Thefirsttomeethimhadacrudeguninonehand,buzz-swordintheother.Thesolid shells punched againstOttar’s grey chest-plate.Warning runes litwithinOttar’shelmet,buthewaswildwiththejoyofthehunt,andhebaredhisfangs,lettingoutawordlesssnarlofangerandfury.IftheogrynthoughttoslowtheSpaceWolf’scharge,hehadnotmettheSonsof Fenris before.Ottar’swolf closed its giantmaw on themassivelymuscledforearmoftheogrynguard,snappingthrougharmandfistandfirearm,rippingthemcleanoff.Theogryn’smomentofhorrorwascutshortasLightbringercamedownonhisthick-skulledhead.Therewasanice-flashofwhiteenergy,thecruderivetsofhishelmburstingopenastheaxecrashedthroughsteel,skullandbrainmatter.Theogrynguardscame forward.Awallofbodies and rippergunsandbuzz-

saws.Ottar led the charge, limbs and heads and grisly lumps of torso flying off toeither side as he cut hisway through them, hiswolf riders close behind him,their chainswords buzzing furiously as they protected his back. The chargepuncheddeepintothegutsoftheenemy.Even asOttar’s thunderwolfwas killed beneath him, the assault ramp of theLandRaiderGhost ofFenris slammeddownandTerminator-armoured figureschargedout,warcriesringingoutunderthehellishsky.Momentsaftertheyhit,theWulfen caught up and drove all before them, howling and tearing ogryn,hereticsandChaosSpaceMarinesapart.Ottarleapedfreeofhisslainwolf,thejointsofhispowerarmourgratingasheaccelerated toasprint.Lightbringerflashedoverandoverashedrove throughtheenemy.Mind-slavedlabourersflungthemselvesathiminaninsanewave.Hekilled them just as quickly. They fell one on top of the other, the bodiesmoundingabouthimasheslowedalmosttoahalt.

TheBlackLegionnairesofZufur’swarbandhadwaited for thismoment.NowtheSpaceWolfleaderhadbeenbroughttoahalt,theycharged,cuttinghimofffromthewarriorsbehindhim.Thetwo-headedaxeheldthematbay,butthedamagehadbeendone.AstheSpaceWolfchargedameltagunflared.Theshotpunchedaholethroughthewarrior’sarmour,andcameouttheothersidewithahissingsteamofsuper-heatedbloodandviscera.The bearded SpaceWolf staggered for amoment as if his axeweighed himdown,buthewouldnotfall.Notuntilhewasdead.Zufurstrodeforward.His warband had done their job. The melta shot would have killed mostwarriors,buttheSpaceWolvesfoughtharderthananyothershehadknown.Thesuitofwarplatewasscratchedanddented,therewereoilyfluidsleakingfromitsjoints,andthewarrior’sleftlegwasslowingasthepowerarmourbegantofail.TheSpaceWolfremovedhishelmet.Zufurwasnotsofoolishastoreturnthehonour.‘Youcan’ttakeeverypylonfromtheplanet!’theancientwarriorshouted.‘IamOttartheWhite,andIwillripoutyourthroat!Iwill tearyourgutsoutandtieyoutothepylonwiththem!’ZufurlettheSpaceWolfswingathim.Eachtimehesteppedaside,leadingtheSpaceWolfon.Then,quitesuddenly,hesteppedwithinthearcofthegiantaxe

and plunged his sword through the grey chest-plate. The move was sudden,unexpected and deadly. The blade he carried tore through the Space Wolf’sceramitearmourasifcuttingthroughcloth.Itrattledinhishand,likethemouth-tubesofhispilot,asitfeastedonhisenemy’sinsides.ThelookonOttartheWhite’sfacewasoneofpainandhatredasZufur’sswordsuckedhissoulfromhim.AtlastZufurpulledthebladefreeandOttartheWhitefelldead.

FIVEOBSERVATIONPOST9983

Thekasrkinburstintotheroom.Therewasblacksnowontheircarapacearmour.They moved with tough, precise, well-drilled movements, fingers poised ontriggers.The men of the 101st kept well back. The kasrkin colour sergeant wore aCadian-issuepower fist; itcrackledwithwandering threadsofblue lightasheran a stern eye about the room. He wore a vox-bead on his chest. ‘Safe,’ heannounced.Fivemorekasrkinsweptin,powerswordsdrawn.Therewerestaffofficersandadjutants.Andthenheentered.Creed appeared not to have shaved for weeks. He seemed both smaller andharder.Itwasasiftheweightofcommandhadcompressedhim.Hishandshakewasfirm,hisgazeintense.‘MajorBendikt,muchhashappenedsincewestoodontheobservationplatformoftheFidelitasVector.’‘Lord Castellan!’ Bendikt said. He was lost for words. ‘There’s been amonumentalcock-up.We’vebeenstuckuphere…’Creed listened with a careworn and weary air, then put up his hand. ‘Don’tworry.Thereisaplan.Mine,infact.’Bendiktstammered.‘Butthewar.Wehavesathereandwe’vedonenothing!’

‘Yes,Iknow,’Creedsaid.HepattedthebackofBendikt’shand.‘Don’tworry,weareabouttochangethat.’

Creedfilledanyroomhewasin.Alleyeswereonhimashepacedupanddown.Hewasmore than their commander. Hewas everything to Cadia: leadership,inspiration,hope.ForBendikt,hewasalsotheprophet.‘Youknewthatsomethingwasafoot,’thecommanderofthe101stsaid.Creed paused. His eyes were bloodshot. The skin beneath was heavy andbaggy,butwithinthemafiercelightshone.‘Yes.ButeventhenIdidnotforeseethemannerorthemethodofattack.TyrokFields…Well,wewereallsurprised.Forawhile.Butplanshadbeenmade,againsttheunforeseen.Evenso,thebattlehasbeen…’Creedpausedashelookedforthewordhewanted.‘Hard,’hesaidatlast.‘Weheard,’Bendiktsaid. ‘Butall this timewewerehere,helpless.Wecouldnotdoanythingbut listen.We’vebeen listening to thevox trafficdyingoff…Wefearedthatallwerelost.’Creednoddedslowly.Heputhiscigarstub tohismouth. Itappeared tohavegone out, but he puffed on it anyway. ‘It is not lost. In fact, things have notlooked so good for a long time.’ Bendikt looked surprised, and Creed smiledbriefly. ‘Wehaveweathered thestorm.Theenemyhasnothing left to throwatus.Itistimeforustocounter-attack.Theswingisinmotion–Cadiaisreadyinghercounter-punch.The101starepartofthat.’‘How?’‘You’reatfullstrength?’Bendiktnodded.Theyhad takenonacompanyofWhiteshields threemonthsbeforeembarkationbacktoCadia.‘Prettymuch.’‘Good,’Creedsaid.Hewasclearlypreoccupiedwithsomething.Bendiktspokequickly.‘Excuseme,sir.ButIdon’tunderstand.Wehavebeenwaiting here,withoutword or command.How canwe help you?Wehave notanks.’TherewasanamusedlightinCreed’seyes.‘Youdon’tknowwhatthisplaceis,doyou?’‘No,’Bendiktsaid.Hetookaguess.‘It’snotanobservationpost?’Creed shook his head. ‘No. It is not an observation post. This is Salvation9983.’‘Whatdoesthatmean?’Creedpuffedonhiscigar.‘Letmeshowyou,MajorBendikt,andthenIthink

youwillunderstand.’

Theyfoundtheoldmanprayingattheshrine.Rivaldstoodandtookinthesquadof kasrkin about Creed. Hemade the sign of the aquila and bowed. It was asimpleandelegantgesture.‘Wethankyou,LordCastellan,forallyouhavedoneforourplanet,’theoldmansaid.Creednoddedbutkeptmovingbrisklyforwardtowherethegreatdoorsstoodindarkness.The name ‘Salvation 9983’ was dimly visible from the distant lights at thestairwell.‘Kell,’Creedsaid.Thecoloursergeantlookedup.‘Handmethemasterkey.’Creedtookalongbrasswaferfromhiscoloursergeantandwalkedtowardsthelockingpanel.His fingers found the opening andhe slid thewafer into place.Theeffectwasinstantaneous.Allaboutthem,sleepingmachine-spiritswokefromtheiramnioticandengine-oildreams.Themountainbegan tohumas long-dormantmaintenanceenginescame back to life. There was the distant sound of clangs and wheezingmachinery;thesoundofliftshaftsrattlingbehindthequarriedstone;themuffledautomated speech of servitor-lifts; slow winding cog-wheels; the slow andsteadyhumofimmensegeneratorsstartingup.Atthefarendofthevaultedhall,striplumesblinkedbacktolife.Creed’sofficestafflookedupandaboutinwonderasthechamber’scathedral-paintedceiling,whichhadlainindarknessforanage,wasrevealed.Theviewwassublime.MuralsshowedtheyearsofCadia’sfoundingbeforethekasrwerebuilt,withopencitiesofwideboulevards.Aplaceofpeaceandsafety.Apictureofadifferentageandadistantmind-set.Theystoodinwide-mouthedwonder.‘Whatisthisplace?’Bendiktasked,andasifinanswerthedoormechanismsbeforethemunlockedwithadullclunk.Analarm rang, the ground beneath their feet started to tremble, then the vastceramitedoorsbegantomove.Theword‘Salvation’splitslowlyandinevitablyapartaseachpanelslidintomountainrecesses.Lightshonethroughthetoothedintersection, throwing a slab of widening light onto Creed, Bendikt and theothers.Therewasagaspofairontheirfaces,likethatofalong-sleepingmancomingsuddenlyawake.Warmyellowlightspilledthroughthewideninggap.ThesightwithintookBendikt’sbreathaway.Creedgrinned.‘Igiveyoutanks!’

Bendiktwalked through the opening and saw row upon row of LemanRussbattle tanks. They were painted in Cadian drab, unused, apparently fresh offsomeancientproductionline.He looked about. Most were main-line variants, but there were many rarerExecutionersandVanquishers.Colour Sergeant Daal walked around the side and knocked the promethiumdrumsatthebackwithhisknuckle.‘Thefueltanksarefull,’hecalled.Onebyonetheywentalongtheline.‘They’reallfull,’Daalsaidinwonder.Bendikt did not quite believe it.Hepulledhimself uponto onemachine andfoundthecabinhatchopen.Hepeeredinside,halfexpectingtoseeacrew,buttheLemanRusswasempty,thoughthesystemswerealive.HegaveDaalalook,then slipped inside and tried the controls.Fuel tank full, batteries charged.Heleanedbackfromthedriver’sseattothecabinsatthebackofthecrampedspaceinside.Themagazinedoorslidback,andthereeachshelllayinitstube.Fragononeside,krakontheother.Allthroughtheroomtankcrewswereselectingvehiclesandclimbingin.Thenoiseoftheirlaughterechoedwiththeroarofpromethiumenginesbeingstarted.Hepulledhimselfup,sliddowntheside,landedonthefloorandspunaroundin astonishment. There was everything an armoured company could want, ordreamof:supportSalamanders,Trojans,Atlasrecoverytanks,Samaritan-patternChimeras,fueltransports.Ancientsuitsofcarapacearmourhunginrowsagainstthewall.Vaststacksofneatlyorderedlasrifles.Batterypacks,wintercamosuits,boots, belts, webbing, dry rations, backpacks stuffed full of musty-smellingmedicaesupplies:sutures,bandages,phialsofpaleblueliquid,syringes.Creedslappedhimontheback.‘Happy?’‘Speechless,’Bendikttoldhim.‘Buthowdowegetthemoutofhere?’‘Don’tworry,’Creedsaid.‘It’salltakencareof.’‘We’renotflyingthemout?’‘No.You’renotflyingout.’Colour Sergeant Kell stood by the door. He was getting impatient. At thatmomentheputhishandtothevoxreceiverinhisear.‘GeneralCreed.They’recallingforyou.’Creedcheckedhischronometerandpulledaface.‘Sorry.I’mneeded,’hesaidtoBendikt,andstartedwalkingtowardsthestairsthatledtothelandingpad.Hetalkedallthewayaboutthebattle,thewar-fronts,commanderswhomtheybothknew.

Bendikttookitallin.Inlessthanaminutethelifthadbroughtthembacktotheparapet level. The door to the outside was open. Flecks of black snow wereblowinginside.Valkyrieengineswerewarmingup.BendiktfollowedCreedandKellupthestepstothedoorway.Bendikt could no longer hold himself back from asking: ‘But what is thisplace?’Creedpaused.‘IntheearlydaysoftheImperiumofMan,greatmindsforesawamomentsuchasthiswhenwewouldbealoneandfightingthefullmightoftheenemy. They ensured Cadia should always have a second force that could behidden away, fully supplied, until their strengthwas needed. This is one suchfacility.Cadiaisseededwiththem.‘Youandthe101starepartofareservearmy.Wehavetakenallthattheenemycanthrowatus,andnowIamabouttounleashyouonourfoes.’With thosewords,Creedduckedoutside, andBendikt followedhimout ontotheparapet.TherewasnothingdistinctiveaboutCreed’sValkyrie.ItwaspaintedwithplainCadian drab, a standard pattern armedwithmulti-laser and two yellow-tippedHellstrikemissiles slung under eachwing. The black hose lay on the landingpad,withasmallpuddleofpromethiumdribblingoutontothefloor.Ithadjustbeenrefuelled.Themaskedfacesofthetwocrewmenwereuplitbythe green dashboard as they looked down to the consoles before them. Theywererunningthroughthelastinstrumentchecks.ColourSergeantKellledthemalongthenarrowparapettothelandingpad.Thegustsofwindweregaleforce.Bendiktputhishandtohisheadtokeepthewindfromblowinghishelmetoff.TheValkyrie’ssidedoorswereopen.Thesponsonheavybolterswerecoveredwitha simple tan tarpaulin.Thegunnerswere standingwaiting.Anorderly intheplaingreendrabof theCadian8thplacedasetofstepsunder theValkyriedoor.Creedignoredthemandusedthehandletopullhimselfupintoit.Hestoodin thedoorwayandhad to shout tobeheardover thewhineof theengines. ‘Inearlyforgot.’Creedpulledsomethingfrominsidehisjacket.‘Here!’Bendiktgrabbedthetightlyboundclothandpresseditagainsthischest.‘There’sfifteenregimentswho’llbejoiningyou.Takecommand.Understand?’‘Yes–’Bendiktstarted.‘Strike south towards the Elysion Fields. Engage the enemy with extremeviolence.’Creedgrinned.‘IhaveothermenthatIamcallingon.Ihadtocomeandseeyouinperson.Butfearnot,we’regoingtodealthemsuchablowthattheirteethwillrattle!’

ThewhineofenginesgrewsoloudBendikt’swordswerealmostdrownedout.‘Thankyou,sir.Butwhyme?’Creedpaused.‘IsawyoufightonRelionV!’TheValkyriedoorwasthrownshut,andBendiktstoodaloneforamomentasthe flier liftedup from the landingpad.Therewerea fewsecondsas thepilotstruggledagainstthewinds,thenheengagedthethrusters,turnedthegunship’snoseawayfromthemountain,andshefellintodarkness.ThelightsofCreed’sValkyriequicklydwindled.Bendikt threw the door closed behind him. In his hand was the bundle thatCreedhadgivenhim.Hehelditup,wonderingwhatitcouldbe.Blackcloth.Heunwrappedit.Goldbraid.Helookedup.OnlyMerewasthere,sittingbythevoxandstartingtopoweritdown.MeresawtheexpressiononBendikt’sface.‘Whatisit,sir?’Bendiktshowedhimwhatheheldinhishands.Merewalkedtowardshim.Hiseyeswidened.‘Well.Congratulations,sir!’‘Whatdoesitmean?’‘Looksprettyplaintome.He’sjustpromotedyou.’Creed had brought him hope. Bendikt held it in his cupped hands, protectedfrom the storm.He started towards the stairs, butMere said, ‘You should putthoseon,General,sir.’Bendiktfeltfoolish.‘Here,I’lldoit,’Meresaid.Heremovedthemajor’sepauletteswithduecareandreplacedthemwiththoseofthegeneral.‘There,’hesaid,andhelduptheredsashtoputitoverBendikt’sshoulder,butBendiktlaughed.‘Let’swastenomoretime.Thereisworktobedone.’

Within an hour the entireCadian 101stArmouredRegiment had selected andnamedtheirvehicles,andeachcrewwasloadedupandready.Bendikt’s Executioner tank moved forward, down the vast ramps thatzigzagged into the rootsof themountain, andbehindhim, in threes, the101stArmouredRegimentmovedtowardstheirsallyport.GeneralBendiktstoodinthecupola,redsashwithgoldbandacrosshischest,andbroadcastonallchannels.Ourenemiesthinktheyhaveknockedusdown,hethought,butCadiahasstoodbackupagain.Allfightsarewonbythemanwhorefusestoliedown.

PARTTHREECOUNTER-ATTACK

ONEBASTION8,17THARMYHEADQUARTERS,MYRAKRIVERFRONT

Therewere few places onCadia still under the direct control ofCadianHighCommand. Bastion 8, on the Myrak River Front, was one such. It was stillresisting, even though half of the 17thArmyGroupwere pinned down in theMyrakSalient,indangerofbeingcutoff.Forthreeweekstheneckofthesalienthad been drawing closed, like a noose.Now, it seemed to the fighters on thisfrontthatthemomentofdecisionhadcome.ThemanwhohadledthedefenceofthisfrontwasGeneralGrüber.Hewasthekindofcommanderwhobuilthisnameonthebonesofhissoldiers.Hewouldspend the life of every Guardsman under him if it got him further up thecommand chain. He had held his front with a mixture of discipline, bloody-mindednessanda stubborn lackof imagination.Grüber’s strategywas simple:defenceindepth,andforhim,thatmeantthirtymilesofminefields,artillerykillzones,anti-tankstrongpointsandtrenchupontrench,supportedbyhundredsofheavyweaponemplacements.Formonths,hereticassaultshadstalledwithinthismire.Theforemostunitshad lappedupagainst theMartyrWallsofBastion8,thenflaggedandstalledandbeenthrownback.Hisbloody-mindednesshadstoodhimingoodsteadinhishundred-and-fifty-yearcareerwithintheImperialGuard.Butthiswasnotnecessarilyaqualitythat

allowedhimtoperformthetaskhenowknewhehadtoachieve,whichwastomountadazzlingseriesofattacks.ButCreedhadissuedhisorders,andGrüberhadtoobey.Nowhestoodinthecommandbunkerandstareddownfromtheraiseddais,hisaquila-tippedcaneofoffice tuckedneatlyunderhis arm.Therewasa strainedsilence as the brigade commanders filed in.His units had been defending andretreatingforsolongtheyhadanumb,beatenairtothem.Grüberknewhehadtopulloffthespeechofhislife.Hehadnoideawherehewasgoingtostart.Hewaitedforthedoorstobeclosedbeforeputtinghishandtohismouthandeffecting a brief cough. Therewas silence as he stepped forward, his smartlypolishedbootsclip-clippingonthewoodenplanksofthedais.‘Fellow warriors,’ he announced. ‘The time we have been waiting for hascome.’Hiswordsweremetwithadullsilence.Grüberpaused,themetalfanshutterofhisaugmeticlenswhiningasitfocusedonprominent faces about the room.He felt he needed to saymore. ‘Wehavefacedanassaultfromearthandsky.WehavefacedthewrathoftheArchenemy,andwearestillalive.Wearestill fighting.That isavictory in itself.’Hetookhalfapaceforward.‘Westillhavefaith.’Silence,again,thegeneralnoted,thoughhecouldtellthattheywerewarmingupalittle.Hetookanotherpacetotheside,clippedhisheelstogether,removedthe staffofoffice fromunderhis arm, rested the silver aquila inhispalmandpaused,lookingdownatthefacesofhiscommanders.Hehadtheoddsensation,not for the first time, thathismenwere looking for something thathedidnotpossess.Creedwas theproblem.Theyoungupstart had, in the short time thathehadbeenLordCastellanofCadia,changedthewaythatCadiansexpectedtobeled.Beingauthoritative,beingprofessional,beingstern–thesethingswerenolongerenough. Cadians wanted a commander to inspire them now, and MaximusOctavianGrüberIIIhadnever,ever,inhisentireonehundredandeightyyearsoflife,beenaccusedofbeinganinspirationalleader.Hereflectedonthisforamomentashestood,staringdown.‘Weshallrocktheenemyback.Weshallhit themsohard that their teeth rattle!’hesaid, shakingtheaquilaintheair,copyingapaintinghehadonceseenofMacharius,butevenwhen he quoted Creed’s own words he did not seem to have the knack ofdeliverythatCreedmostclearlyhad.Thiswas a sadness thatGrüberhadbeen strugglingwith in thepasthundred

days,when everything he had known, the solid ground that he had placed hisbootedfeetupon,hadprovedtransitory,ephemeral,uneven.Hislongcareerhadbeen based on assumptions thatwere no longer relevant, and a young orphanupstartnamedUrsarkarE.Creedhadrisentotheheightofmilitarypower.Grüberstiffenedanddrewhimselfupalittlehigher.Hetookinadeepbreath.‘Thismorning,IspoketoLordCastellanCreed.’Just thementionofCreed’snamewaslikeamagiccharmthatsummonedhisspirit.Inan instant,he felt themoodof the roomchange.Officerswhoseshouldershadstartedtoslump–fromexhaustion,orboredom,orageneralwar-weariness,ground down by death, lack of supplies, the constant pummelling from theenemy–satalittlestraighter,theirshouldersthrownback,theirchinsliftedhigh,eyesbrightwithhopeandexpectation.Thechange rippleddown the room.Grüber found,much tohisownchagrin,thatevenhewasstandingalittlestraighter,ifthatwasatallpossible.Hefoundstrangeemotionsrisingwithinhim.Hepursedhis thin lipsforamoment, thentookanothersteptothecentreofthestage.HerepeatedCreed’snameandchangedthesentencetoputhimselfatitscore.‘LordCastellanCreed calledme thismorning and askedme how your spiritswere.Itoldhimthatyouwereeagertoassault.Thatyouweredesperatetotakethewarbackto theenemy.I toldhim,menof theSeventeenthArmy, thatyouwerereadytobeginthelong-awaitedcounter-attack.’Hecouldsee theirattentionbeginning towane,andknewhehad to return toCreedagain.‘TheLordCastellancommandedme,commandedusall,tolaunchattacksupontheenemy.’There was a ragged cheer that started at the back of the room and rippledforward.‘Todayisthatday!’hedeclared,andputhishandoutforsilence.‘Creedwantedme to relay his ownwords to you.His very ownwords.’Hepaused as he looked down at the paper in his hand and began to read. ‘“ThefutureofCadiahangs in thebalance.Weare tomakewarupontheenemy.Tobring destruction and death to each and every one of them.” I am to lead theSeventeenthArmytotheElysionFields.’Hepaused,hislastwordsdrownedoutastheofficersintheroomallleapedtotheirfeet.Thefightbackhadbegun.Bastion8 lay ahundred and thirtymiles from the first pylonsof theElysionFields.Inthatgap,therewereatleastsevenarmiesoftheenemy,andyetCreedhaddemandedthathereachtheElysionFieldswithinthreedays.

‘Gettherewithallhaste,’Creedhadtoldhim.Grüberlikedtofightinaplodding,ponderous,unstoppablemanner,typicalofgeneralsoftheAstraMilitarum.‘Icannotgettherewithinamonth.’‘Ineedyouthereintwodays.Twodays,Grüber,understand.Twodays!Thatisanorder.’‘Iunderstand,’Grüberhadsaid,even thoughheknewthatwith the troopshehad, the supplies that theydidnot have, and the strengthof the enemybeforethem,therewasnowaytheycouldfulfilCreed’swishes.GrüberlookeddownathiscommandersandwonderedifheshouldgivethemthetimelinethatCreedhadgivenhim.Itwasimpossible,heknew,andhefearedthataskingtheimpossibleofthemmightbreaktheirfragilecourage.The general wavered in a rare moment of indecision. He had promised, hereasoned, and so he should honour his word. He coughed to clear his voice.‘LordCastellanCreedneedsthestrengthoftheSeventeenthArmyattheElysionFieldswithinnightfall,twodaysfromnow.’Theycouldneverdoit.Hefeltthattheirmoralewouldbreakasheaskedthisofthem,butthereactionoftheofficersastonishedhim.A thrill went through the room. They were being asked to achieve theimpossible. They smiled and laughed and turned to each other with wrycomments.IfthatwaswhatCreedaskedofthem,theywoulddoit.Grübertookinadeepbreath.‘Twodays,menofCadia.TwodaysandweshallbeintheElysionFields!’Therewasaroarasthecommandersrosetotheirfeet.‘Twodays!’theyshoutedback.Grüberfoundhimselfsweptupwiththemoodintheroom.‘TotheElysionFields!’Andthenshoutsof‘ForCreed!ForCadia!’and‘Cadiastands!’GeneralGrüberbreathedthismomentindeep.Hehadspokentohiscommanders,andtheywereinspired.

TWOTHEMYRAKSALIENT,HIGHWAY4

His orders were to move forward at all speed and engage the enemy withferocity, butColonelLarsHeni of theCadian662ndMechanisedBrigadewashours from his starting point and already his column was bogged down onHighway4,tenmilesshortofBastion8.Hepunchedthecupolainfury,slidfromthecabin–cursingtheawkwardnessofhis augmetic leg– andmarchedup to thehalf-track in frontofhim. In theglareoftorchlight,hesawarowofgap-toothedabhumanslookingdownonhim,theireyes litwithacrudemixof frustrationandanimal intelligence.He threwopen thedriver’sdoor.Theair stankofmuskandcheapgun lubricantbut thedriver’sseatwasempty.Heshonehis torcharoundtofindsomeone to talk to.‘Whatthefrekkisthehold-up?’Larsshouteduptotheabhumans.One of the ogryns roared back. If there were words there then Lars didn’tunderstandthem,buthecouldtelltheyfeltasannoyedashedid.Thepistonsinhis augmetic leg hissed as he limped forward. The queue of armour stretchedbeforehimasfarashecouldsee,theirshadedheadlampscastinglowspearsoflightinthegloom.Twentytanksup,therestoodayoungCadianataroadblock,arguingwiththedriver of the front ogryn half-track. ‘We’ve been stuck in this queue for three

days,’hewas saying. ‘I’vegotogrynhere. I don’tknowhow long I cankeepthemcalmfor.’‘No,’theofficersaid.Larspushedforward.‘I’mMajorLars,662ndMechBrigade.’TheofficertookLarsin,fromhisaugmeticlegtohisleanbuildandbrasshonourgorget.‘We’retobeatPointSixty-Seveninthreehours’time.Creed’sorders.’The officer looked at him. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Theway is blocked. I havemyorderstoo.’‘It’s imperativethatweare let through.’Larsshowedhisrankbut thewarriorwasunconcerned.‘Theway is closed,’he said. ‘Nothing I candoabout it.Orders fromGrüberhimself.’Larscursed.‘Creedcalledmepersonally thismorning.HeinsistedthatI leadthisattack.’‘Yeah,right,’theothermansneered.Lars’fistcaughthimsquareonthechin.Asound,solidblowthatfeltexquisiteto deliver.Any normalGuardsmanwould have gone down under a blow likethat.ThemanLarshadjusthitshookhishead,putahandtohislipandhelditout tocheck if therewasblood. ‘I’llgiveyou that shot free, colonel,butnexttimeI’llforgetyourrank.’Larsdidn’tliketodothis,butitgotthingsdone.Hepulledthegorgetasideforamomenttoshowhismedals.Medalsworkedbetterthanshoutsorthreats.Theofficertookthelineofhonoursin.Thetripleskullbadge,theMeritofTerraand,lastly,thegoldbadgeofaWardofCadia.Theotherman’smannerchanged.‘IwishIcouldhelp,’hesaid.‘Butlook.Youcansee.Everyoneismoving.Thebigattackiscoming.I’lldothebestIcan.’Lars gave theman a look. ‘Thanks,’ he said, but hewas already looking foranotherwayoutofthismess.Hedidn’tthinktheofficer’sbestwasgoingtobegoodenoughforhim.

Larscursedasheclimbedstifflybackuptohistank.‘We’renotgoingtomakeit,’hesaidashedroppedintothecommander’sseat.‘Atleastnotthisway.’His crew looked tired. Their eyeswere rimmedwith dust, their cheeksweredirty.‘Theroadsaheadareblocked.’Thedriver,Hesk, tookout two lho-sticks andofferedone toLars.Hehadn’tsmoked for years, but sometimes nothing else quite worked. He pulled out aMunitorum-issue igniter, flicked itopenand litboth. Itwasunlucky to light a

third.The time it took to lighta third lho-stickwasall thata sniperneeded toaimandfire.Heblewouttheflame,flickedtheigniterclosedandslippeditintohisbreastpocket.‘So,’Hesksaid,puffingsmokefromhismouthandnostrils.‘We’llhavetogooff-road.’Larssighedandnodded.Themapwasunfolded.Itwastoobigforthecrampedspaceinsidethetank.HeskpositioneditunderthelightsothatLarscouldreaditclearly.Larsputhis fingers to themap,markingout linesbeforehim.Creed’sorderswereall inhishead.Creedhad insisteduponthat. ‘Thereare toomanyspies,’Creedhadwarnedhim.‘Butbethere,’hehadsaid.‘Promiseme.’AndLarshadpromised.‘Sowhichway?’Hesksaid.Larscheckedthecoordinatesinhishead.‘Here,’hesaid,pointingtotheplace.‘We’rerelievingKasrMyrak.’‘Ithoughtithadfallen.’‘Apparentlynot.’‘You’resure?’Larsgaveashortlaugh.Hewasn’tsureofanythingexceptthatCreedhadgivenhimpersonal instructionsand theywereall inhishead.Larssmoothedout themapandrefoldedit.‘Ifwegooff-roadwecouldgoalongtheMyrakValley.’‘Aslongaswedon’trunintotheenemy.’‘Theideaisthatwedorunintothem.’Hesktookthemapandopeneditupagain.‘It’sroughgroundthere.’Hespokewithauthority.‘Ididmywintertrainingthere.’‘Gotabetterideathen?’‘Yes. If the landhasnotbeenbrokenup toobadly.There’sa lineofdry landdownhere,inthevalleybottom.’Larsnodded.Itwasroughterrainbuthedidn’tseethattheyhadanychoice.Heclimbed up into the cupola.His driver got themachine-spiritwarmed up, andthenslammedtheLemanRussintogear.‘Right,’hesaid.‘Heregoes.’Larstookhisvox-controlastheyslewedofftheroad.‘Allcrews,’hecalled.Hegave the coordinates and each of the squadron leaders confirmed, all thewaydownthelineoftanks,supplyvehicles,fuelcarriersandammotrucks.ThegroundbegantotrembleastheentirebrigadeswungroundandturnedoffthehighwayintothetracklesswastesofCadiaPrime.Theyheadednorth-east, boundingover theploughed-up tracksofwhat could

onlybeLeviathansandthedistinctivemarkofWarlordTitanfootprints.Itwasexhilaratingtobemovingagain,withthewindintheirfaces.Theypassedburned-outtanks,thecraterinwhichaWarlordhadexploded,thescatteredshapesofdeadmen, lyingwhere theyhad fallen– inheapsat times,fiveorsixdeep.Thebodieshadbeendeadformonths.Asthetanksrolledoverthem they bobbed and bounced on the corrugated surface. The stench of old,burnedhumanfleshwashorrible.Onlythecoldkeptthefliesdown.Whoknewwhethertheywerehereticsorloyalists–thetanksranstraightoverthem,barelypausing:warhadcome toCadia inall its scaleandhorror.Larshadseen itasbadasthisbefore,butnotmanytimes.Asthelandlevelledout,Heskchangedupthegearsandpressedhisfootontheaccelerator.Larsfelttheenginebegintohumastheychangedoutofthirdgearforthefirsttime in threedays.Despite the stink, itwasgood to feel thewind through thewindows.Good to bemoving at speed oncemore.Good to be delivering thecounter-blow,atlast.

WhentheyreachedPoint67,LarsHenibroughthiscolumntoahalt.‘Thisisit,’hesaid.Heskopenedhishatchandlookedout.‘Sowhatdowedonow?’Larscheckedhischronometer.‘Wewait,’hesaid.Hesksniffed.AllofCadialookedprettymuchthesamethesedays:aburned,barrenwasteland.Allthatdifferedwasthewrecks,whichshowedwherebattleshadbeenfought.‘Howlong?’‘Twohours.’‘Andthen?’‘Weattack.’Hesknodded.Therewasalongpause.‘Whatifyougetkilled?Whatdowedothen?’Larsgavehisdriverastare.Hepattedhisaugmeticleg.‘They’vetriedkillingmebefore,’hesaid.‘Itdidn’twork.’Heskhalfsmiled.‘No,really.Whatwillhappen?’‘Keepmovingforward,’Larstoldhim.

Point874,TrenchSystemB,MyrakSalient

The sandbagged bunker had a well-stamped earth floor, a simple field chart-table,andarackoflasriflesstackedinthefarcorner.ColonelJanVetterofthe

CadianEarthshakerspacedbackandforth.HecursedbetterthananyoneinthecombinedregimentoftheCadian290th/340thArtilleryandhewasinfullflowasherageddownthevoxattheMunitorumclerkinchargeofresupply.‘Wherearemyshells?’heshouted,andaddedalonglineofexpletives.‘We’vehadnothingfortwodays.Myentirebattery,silent!’Heslammedhisopenpalmdownonthechart-table.Therewasapausebeforehestartedagain.‘Youtoldmethatyesterday!Ineedshells.Theassaultissupposedtostartintenminutes,andIstilldon’thavemyshells!’One of his staff officers, Yastin, touched his elbow and pointed. Headlightswerearcingthroughthegloom.ItwasaChimerachassis,Salamandercommandvehicle.Vetter’sstafflookedhopeful.‘Ithinkthey’vearrived,’Yastinsaid.‘They frekking better have,’ Vetter cursed as he climbed up out of hissandbaggedbunker, standingupand raisingahandsohecouldbe seen in thegloom.The five-hundred-mile-long and three-hundred-mile-wide Myrak Salient hadbeen gradually shrinking back as Volscani armoured divisions had thrownthemselvesagainst thebaseof the salient, attempting to entrap the17thArmywithin.Six miles ahead, in the last lines of trenches, there was a terrible slaughtergoingon.Youcouldsmellsmokeandcorditeandrottingbodiesevenhere.Vetter’s regiment had been pummelling the attacking columns until theirsuppliesofordnancehadrunout.HighCommand,asalways,seemedoblivious.They had issued new targeting coordinates and a strict deadline for thebombardmenttostart,andJanVetterhadbeenswearingeversince.Onthevox,to his staff, and in a long and one-sided conversation with General Grüber,whichhadgoneonmostlyinhishead.‘Maybetherumouristrue,’Vetter’sadjutant,Yastin,saidastheywaitedfortheSalamandertoarrive.‘Maybewe’regoingtoattack.’‘Well, we need frekking Earthshaker shells first,’ Vetter said. ‘We can’t fireorders at the enemy.Throne take them all! IfCreedwas here hewouldn’t letsuchashamblesgoon.’ThethoughtofCreedmadethemallfeelalittlebetter.TheCentaur’slightscastlongbeams,illuminatingtheswirlingdirtandashthatswilledcontinuouslyup in thebreeze. ‘Here!’Vetter shouted, thoughhecouldnotbeheard.HewavedhistorchandtheCentaur’stracksslewedittowardshim.Beforeithadevenstoppedacommsofficerwasout,runninglowtotheground.

‘Areyouthe–’theofficerstarted,butVettershoutedoverhim.‘Yes,’hecalledout.‘You’relate,andthisfrekkingbombardmentissupposedtostartinfiveminutes.’Theman’s face showed amixture of apology and resilient defiance. ‘It wastough getting through,’ he said. Vetter didn’t look for an explanation, but themangaveitanyway.‘AmanipleofWarhoundsbrokethrough.’Vetter had seen the explosions and felt the earth tremors. He’d guessedsomethinglikethathadhappened,butthatwassomeoneelse’sproblem,nothis.‘Well,I’vegotanartillerybarragetosend!’Theothermannodded.Fightingwasstartinguptothewest.Hecouldfeelthetremors through his Cadian-issue leather boots. ‘Right!’ Vetter said. ‘There’sfourhundredBasilisksalongthisline.They’rethreedeep…’hestarted,butthecommsofficerknewhisbusinessaswellasVetter,andalreadyhissupplytrainofhalf-tracksandTrojanswerepeelingoffandfindingthedug-inBasilisks.Withinlessthanaminutethefirstordnancetruckswerereversingintopositionbehindthedug-inBasilisktanks.Neatlinesofartilleryshellswerestackedfivedeep.Theammocarriagesgroanedundertheweightofhighexplosivesandcastmetal.Crude clawed servitor arms slowlybegan to pile theEarthshaker shellsonto thegroundbehindeachgun.Thewhineofhydraulics seemedalmost tooloud.‘Comeon!’Vetterurged,butthesupplycrewswerealreadyatwork,liftingthewooden pallets of Earthshaker shells into position. ‘Grüber’s going on theoffensive!’‘Ithoughthecouldonlywalkbackwards,’ayounggunnersaidbetweenbreathsas he slid anEarthshaker shell into the loading breech. Just the idea that theywere going to go on the attack at last. It was intoxicating. There was giddybanteramongthemen.Vetterrealisedhehadn’theardanyonejokefor…well…months.‘Yes indeed, Guardsman!’ He grinned. ‘Grüber wants us to move forward.We’llbeinKasrKrafbymidnight.’His vividly violet eye ran over the activity as the empty ammo trucks pulledawayandothersreversedintotaketheirplace.Awhistleblew.Vettercheckedhischronometer.Therewaslessthanaminutetogo.‘Load!’heshouted,thoughthebreecheswerealreadyloaded.Herealisedhe’dbeengrippingthetorchtootightly,andflexedhishand.Thenervesweregettingtohim.Hecursedhimself.Human,butCadian.An air raid alarm sounded. At the end of the line, his anti-air turrets were

swivelling to thewest. Vetter couldn’t seewhatwas coming. The first Hydrastarted up, four lines of tracers streaked up into the sky.A direct hit into thismass of ordnance could blow them all to theGolden Throne. The fact didn’tscare him. Vetter had seen death on thirty-seven planets and despite the steelplates inhis femur and scapula, and the ache inhis left shoulder, nothinghadquitemanagedtofinishhimoff.Anotheralarmstarted.TheothertwoHydrasopenedup,thetwelvelighttrailsseeming almost to bend as the automatic targeting sensors traced somethingflyingtowardsthemhardandlowandfast.‘Enemyfliers,’Yastincalledout.Vetternodded.Hewascountingdowntozerohour.A fireball curved off towards the south and impacted in a dull orange blast,hazythroughthesmokeofwar.Vetterliftedhischainsword,thumbedthestudtosettheteethspinningforamoment.‘Makeready!’heshouted.Theguncrews reactedwith swift, effective, practisedmovements.Vetterhadcomefromthe340thRegiment,butthetwohadbeenmergedsolongitwashardto remember which of the old crews was from which unit. The months offightinghadthinnedtheirranksdrastically,butthenewrecruitswereshapingupwell.Vetter held his arm aloft as another alarm sounded and this time theHydrasswung round to the south-east. Soon all their twenty anti-air platforms wereengaged,fluidlinesoftracerfiretrackingtheenemy.‘Makeready!’Vetterordered.Hecounteddowntheseconds.Eight,seven, he countedas a longmetallicneckofbrass andwires appearedfromthegloombeforethem,soottrailingfromitsnostrilslikeadragonofold.Betweenthecountsofsevenandfive,thehelldrake’ssinuousbodyemerged.Ithadwingsofsteel,andwhenitssnoutopened,itgaveascreamliketearingsheetmetal.Four!Therewas a ripple ofmovement as the gun crews stood to, signallingtheywereready.Thevoxofficer,Dresk,wasstandingnexttohim.Vetterdidn’tevenwaitforthequestion.‘Yes,’hesaid,‘we’reready!’Three.Dreskturnedtopassonthemessage.Two.

Vetterallowedhimselfadeepbreathinthattastedofashandbattleandsmokeanddeath,putthewhistletohislipsandraisedanarm.One.Thegunsfiredontime,fourhundredBasilisksroaringasone.

It took five seconds before the next salvo rang out. Breeches were opened,clearedandre-armed,slammedshut,andfiredagain.Notbad,Vetterthought,buthismencoulddobetter.Bythesixthround,hiscrewswerewarmingup.ThebarragebecameaconstantroarofthunderandsmokeandrecoilingEarthshakerbarrels.Inchbyinch,guncrewsadjustedthebarrels,forcingthebarrageforwardatthepaceaLemanRusscould drive. Suddenly Vetter remembered the flying daemon engine that hadbeenbeatingtowardshislines.Helookedaboutandsawnothing.Haditpassedoverhead?hethought,andlookedup,whereithadlastbeenseen,flappingintothefaceoftheguns.Bitsofmetalwerefallingfromtheskylikefeathers.

THREEMYRAKSALIENT

IntheshatteredbunkersofKasrKraf,theSouthPolarOrbitalArrays,theislandkasroftheCaducadesArchipelago–allacrossCadia,wheredefendersstilllivedand fought, Guardsmen sat waiting by their vox-units, their faces tense, theireyesdowncast,astheyranthroughtheupcomingassault,andtheirpartwithinit.Atzerohourthevox-unitscrackledtolifeandCreed’svoicegroundout.‘Thefightbackhasbegun…’hetoldthem.‘Havefaith.Havecourage.Havenomercyuponourfoes.’Thenwhistlesblew.Theorderwasgiven.Itwasdoordie.Decimated regiments that had been fighting for months had been throwntogether according to availability, logic and chance. Infantrywere pairedwithtank brigades; drop-troops with armoured fist squads; scout regiments withartillerycompanies.Thefewmassiveline-bustingBanebladesandtheirilkwerepulledtogetherintosquadronsandcompanies.There had been heated arguments and fights as regiments with proud andindividual distinctions were merged with young regiments that lacked a longpedigree.The lieutenantof theCadian3rd,whowereoneof thefoundingregimentsoftheCadianGate, had refused to serve under the commandof a colonel of the

Cadian 4002ndRifles – a unit thatwas itself an amalgamation of three otherregiments, oneofwhichhadbeendecimatedby theCommissariat after it hadbrokeninthebattleforGestalHeights,intheScarusSector.Amajorof theCadian99thLancershad resignedhiscommission rather thanserveunderthecommandofaninfantryofficer.Heledhisroughridersquadinthe first chargeon theNexusGate,had twomounts shot fromunderhim,andwaslastseenleadingthesurvivorsuptherampartstowardstheenemy.But Cadian units followed the same professional codes of conduct and war.Theyallfacedthesameenemy.

UnknowntotheenemyandtheCadiansalike,Creed’shiddenarmyweremakingtheirwayoutof thesafetyof theSalvationoutposts.Thescaleof thecounter-attackwasvast.On the far-flung continent of Cadia Tertius, servitors loaded squadrons ofThunderboltsandMarauderdestroyerswithHellstrikemissiles.Hiddenlaunch-baydoorsopened,andsquadronaftersquadronsoaredout,tocleartheskiesofCadia.OntheplainsofCadiaPrimus,infantryregimentslinedupattheundergroundarmouries as quartermasters unloaded hellguns and lasrifles, flamers, grenadelaunchers,demolitioncharges,heavybolters,autocannonsand lascannonswithwell-oiled tripods.ThespeechesofCreedrangoutover thevox-relaysand thefury of the warriors, who had chafed at their isolation, became as cold andmercilessasafreshlywhettedblade.It took some rifle regiments two days tomake the climb to the sally points.Under the hills of Cadia Secundus, armoured unitswere brought up from thedepths by vast lift halls that carried awhole squadron of tanks at a time.Theclosertothesurfacetheycame,thestrongerthescentofashandburning.Then,atlast,theystoodbeforetheclosedsallyportsandthetrampofbootscametoahalt.For someof the troopswaitingat thedoors, itwashoursof standing.Othersarrived only moments before the scheduled opening of the Salvation gates.Generals,majors, colonels, lieutenantsandsergeantsallmade their speeches–somelonganderudite,othersshortandcurse-filledandtothepoint.AcrossCadia Primus andSecundus,millions of eliteCadianShockTroopersgripped their guns tighter, ground their teeth, cursed the enemies of theImperiumofManandreadiedthemselvesforwar.

ThatmorningCadiafoughtback.

InthetrenchesoftheMyrakSalient,whistlesblewandwholeplatoonsmovedupoverthetopintoahailofheavystubbersandbolters.Armouredfistsquads,loadedintotheirChimeras,chargedacrossno-man’s-landincolumnsfivewide,their turret-mounted autocannons and multi-lasers tracking for targets. Tankregimentswithhonourrollsthatstretchedbackeightthousandyearsmovedout,battlecannonssmoking.Airborneunitsliftedoff,packedintoValkyriesthatflewlowtotheground,sidegunnersscanningfortargets.For someunlucky regiments the timearrived, thecodeswere tapped into thelocking panels, and nothing happened. The earth had been so transformed byorbital bombardment that the doors of their bunkers would not open, and theunitsrealisedthattheyweretrapped.Butmostwho chargedout onCadiaPrimus found a landdevastatedbywar.The land theyknewwasnowanunfamiliarmazeofcraters.Proudcitieswereburnedandemptyshells.Vasttankgraveyardsshowedwherebattleshadragedonthesurfaceand the landhadbeen turnedblack,as ifawildfirehadcrossedtheentireplanetandscorchedeverythinginitspath.Eachunithadcoordinatestoheadto,objectivestoseize,butformanyofthemthe battles had already been lost, the kasr they were meant to be relievingalreadyplundered.‘Therehasbeenawildfire,’GeneralJustusdeclaredtohismen.‘ItistheArch-heretic.ItisAbaddon.Heisresponsible.Itishimwehate.Andallwhofollowhim.’

OntheburningplainsofCadiaPrimus,manyunitsfoundthemselvessurroundedby Iron Warriors. The lead tanks of the Cadian 652nd Armoured Brigadesuddenlyeruptedinflame,andastherestofthecompanytriedtomovearoundthem, theywere also taken outwithwell-aimed lascannon shots. The columnground to a halt as tank commanders made desperate attempts to move theburningwrecks out of theway,whilemore andmore of the columnwas tornapartbyanenemytheycouldnotsee.Afewtankcommandersattemptedtofireback,butitwasahopelesstask,andsoonIronWarriorsranamokthroughtheparkedcolumnsuntilthewholebunkerwasaroilingmessoffumesandfire.As the scale of slaughter onCadia Primus grew in horror and violence, foulsorcerieswereunleashedandtheboundsthatheldtheimmateriumbackbegantoweaken.Amidtheblackandsmoke,luridandimpossibleshapesappeared.Redpacksofvicious,hornedmonsters tore tanksapartwith theirclawsandunholy

swords.Vastwingedshapes loomedup,withbattle-axes thesizeofaSentinel,snarlingandgnashingandhowlingforblood.Menwerestruckdumbwithterror.Theimmensedaemonscrushedtankswithasingleblowoftheiraxes,orastampoftheirred,hoofedfeet.Althoughtheyweremillionsstrong,theforcesofCadiafound themselves outnumbered andoverpowered.But despite everything, theyresistedwithalltheirstrength.Proud regiments,who had carried victory across the ImperiumofMan, eachfound a hill or amound, planted their banners in the burned earth, firing andbayonetingatthewavesofheretics,inchbyinchbeingslowlyoverwhelmedlikeanatollbeingswallowedupbyarisingsea.

ThecontinentofCadiaSecundushadbeenhitlesshardthanthosetothenorth,andhere theforcesofCadiahadfaredbetter.ThereweremanyplacessuchasBastion 8 where command and control retained a firm grip. The defenderschargedout,andmanyofthemsharedthesameexperienceasLarswhenheledhistankcolumnforward.‘Contact!’hevoxed.Hisgunswere loaded.His targeterwas alreadywindingthebarrelround.‘Tanks,’Larsvoxedtohisunit.Hewasgoingtosay‘dozens’buthecouldseethat he was wrong. There were a hundred tanks, at least. More and morestreamingup from thegroundbeforehim. ‘HolyThrone!’he said. ‘Holdyourfire.They’reCadian!’Thetwocolumnscametogether,leadtanktoleadtank.Larsshookhisheadinamazement.‘Bendikt,isthatyou?’

FromtheSalvationoutpostswholearmiesappeared,freshandreadyforbattle.The tideofwarbegan tochange,andacross thecontinent,Cadian forces feltthesuddeninjectionoffreshtroopsrockthehereticforcesback,andmanymadeswiftprogress.AtthePrimus-Junction,the79thArmouredRegimentcrashedthroughasectionofthelineheldbytheVolscaniCataphracts,firingplasmagunsfromthebackofthe Chimera transports, killing the heretics in their thousands. The992nd/328th/674thScoutRegiment had a combined forceof over six hundredSentinels armedwithmulti-lasers and autocannons, and fiftywith lascannons.Underthecoverofashort-rangeartillerybarragefromthetwohundredMedusasofthe1911thArtilleryRegiment,theScoutSentinelsmovedforward,ledbytheveteranSentinelpilotLieutenantEsterVathe.As they approached the trenches of the enemy, the phalanx of walkers

accelerated into a loping run, heavily-armouredSentinels screening the lighterunitsbehind.The Sentinels came under sustained enfilading fire from heavy bolters andlascannons,andlostoverfiftywalkersinamatterofminutes.Foramomentitseemedthatthechargewouldbethrownback,butthenEsterVathechargedthelinesoftheenemy,singingImperialhymns.ThemassedSentinelcolumnhitthetrenchesandthefuryoftheVolscanifootsoldiers.Therewasabriefand furious fightas theSentinelskickedandstomped theirway through the foe. They would have stalled, until a sudden white lightappearedintheskyanddrovetheenemyback.Someclaimedtohaveseenabrighthumanshapeinthesky.SomesawCreed.Eitherway, themomentary shock it inflicted on the enemy allowed the heavyflamer-armedSentinels to rushup andbathe the heretic trencheswith burningpromethium.Darkshapes leapedabout in thetorrentofburning,andthentheyfell, submergedandovercomewithsmokeand fumes,and theSentineldriversstampedonanythatmadeitout.Therewasafuriousbattleofmanandmachine,and then, in less than half an hour, they were through, into open ground,wreakingaheavycostonthesupplytrucksoftheenemyandwideningtheholeintheirline.

In some parts of the battlefront, command and control had been hit somanytimesbyBlackLegionterrorsquadsthateventhefamousCadiandisciplinewasstarting to creak under the pressure. The effectiveness of the attacks washaphazardand,sometimes,counter-productive.TheCadian987th/23rdtankregimentsetoffthreehourstooearly.Theirsixty-three Leman Russes and two Hydra flak tanks smashed through the hereticcultists along Sublime Ridge, and ploughed on through six miles of hastilythrown-up defences, Hellhounds scouting ahead and to either side, filling thetrencheswithburningpromethiumandallowingthemainbattletankstokeeponrolling towards their objective, the heights to the north of KasrMyrak. Theircommander, aCadian veteran of only thirty-five years, known asBoldBrasq,sighted an enemy tank formation coming towards them and destroyed it in afirefight that lasted less than two hours, leaving wrecks burning over fifteenmilesoftheMyrakfoothills.It seemedat first that themisstepwouldproveaboldandbrilliantmove,buttheirassaultwenttoofar,toofast,anditwasnotlongbeforetheenemyreactedandthetanksweresetuponbyaflockofmetalcarrionthatcoveredthearmour

inflameandboiledthecrewsaliveinsidetheirvehicles.TheHydratanksputupasoliddefence,buttonoavail,andonceonehadbeendestroyed,thetaskbeforetheotherwastoogreat.Itwaspickedoffbythreeofthe creatures, which came at it from all sides, like carrion birds mobbing awoundedbeast.Withtheirairdefencedestroyedtherestof the tankcolumnwasexposedandisolated. Bold Brasq’s Exterminator-pattern Leman Russ battle tank had beenwingedbyaluckymissilestrikeandwasmakingslowspeedtowardstheshelterof a charcoal forest of bare stumpswhen itwas set on by sevenof the flyingmachines.Brasqwasmanning the turretautocannons.Assoonas theywere in rangehestarted to fire. Spent shells rattled off the tank hull like a hailstorm, and thetracersmadeanalmostcontinuouslineoflight.‘Have faith,’ Brasq had told his crew, and they were Cadian: tough,remorseless, realistic.Hehita flyingcreature in thewing. It spiralleddowntoearth and hit the ground head first. Its backwas broken in an instant. He hitanotherinthebreast,asustainedvolleythattorewingfrombody.Thethirdswirledupintotheairforamoment,managingtostayjustaheadoftheautocannonrounds,astwomoreflewinfrombehind.BoldBrasqhadamoment’swarning,as theroarof theircomingwaslike thesoundofagaleinthehighveldtpines.Amomentwasallheneeded.Hedroppeddownintothetankandpulledthecupoladownbehindhim,onehalf-turnlockingitshut.Foramomenttherewassilence,andthenanotherroarasthemonstersbreatheduponthesealedtank.The heat inside rose alarmingly as the flame torrent continued. Therewas aclunkasoneofthetrackscameloose,acoughastheenginegaveup,andstilltheflametorrentcontinued.‘Frekk,’Brasqcursedasthevisionslitsglowedwithabrightbluelight.Withinsecondsthetemperaturehadrisenevenmorealarmingly.Thinnerpatchesoftheceramiteamourbegantoglowadullredandthenorange.‘We’regoingtocook,’Corterscreamedfromthedriver’sseatastheinsideofthecrampedLemanRusscabinwent fromfrigid toscaldinghot.He threwoffhisleatherstraps.Brasqtriedtospeak,buthefoundhimselfgaspingforbreath.Thefirestormwassuckingalltheoxygenoutoftheair.Thevisionslitshissedastheirtemperaturesoared,andthensomethingdrippedontoBrasq’shandandhecriedoutinpain.

Theblackplastekknobthatlockedthetophatchhadmeltedandwasdripping.Burstrelaypipesunderthefloorsenthot jetsofsteamandscaldingwater intothecabin.Brasqcursedashe tried to flick thedrippingsubstanceoffhisskin.Theairstankofozone.Heusedhisglovedhandtoopenthetophatch.Anotherblackdripfellontohischeek.Therewassmokeinthecabin,anditcaughtinthebackofhis throat.Hekickedashepushedhimselfoutof theLemanRussandintotheflames.

ColonelValentinoftheCadian47th‘Firedogs’hadspenthismonthsinSalvation37AgettingdrunkonatonoffineScarusamasecthathadsomehowreplacedalarge section of their ration supply. When the time came for the lifts to thesurface,theengineofhisHellhoundassault tankwasturningovernicelyasheshared a last shot of amasec with his other commanders, then clamberedunsteadilyupintoitscupola.HewaslargelysoberwhenheledhisunitofHellhoundsandassortedassaulttanksuptothesurface,butwassportingthemotherofallhangoversashepulledhiswhitesilkscarfabouthisneckandwavedhiscolumnforwardintothegreysmogthatpassedfordayonCadia.‘Forward,brothers!’heshouted,notevenbothering tobroadcastover thevoxchannels.Hedidn’tevencheckhiscoordinates.Hedidn’tneedto;itwasclearwheretheenemy trench lines were from the tangle of razor wire and the dull shine ofAegisdefence lines scouredofcamopaintby theweightof fire thathadbeenthrownagainst them.Oneminutebefore theattackwasdue tostart,hiswholecompanyoffivehundredassaulttankswasinpositionattheheadofaforceofovertwothousandtanksthatwerearrangedinbattalionsbehindhim.‘Ready,sir?’hisdriver,Matto,calledup.Valentin’sscarfflappedinthebreeze.‘Can’tfrekkingwait.’Theopeningsalvosofthebombardmentdrownedouthiswords.Theymadetheearthshakeandtheskytrembleastheworldfilledwitharoaringmaelstromofsoundandfury.Valentinputthescopestohiseyesandwatchedthehereticlineseruptingwith fountains of earth and smoke. The precision of the barragewasaweinspiring.Ithitthefrontlinewithalmostclinicaldiscipline,throwingupalineofmudasifalongundergroundchargehadsuddenlybeenignited.‘Holy Throne!’Valentin laughed as his tank trembled. It felt to him that hisvehiclewasalivingthing,eagertogetatthefoe.Itwastheheretics’turnnowtotastehell.

‘Whoelseisspearheadingthisattack?’Mattoshoutedup.‘SteelPunch andCadianStalwarts.’Valentin could see the other assault tankbrigadesmoving into position on either side.He felt a sudden panic that theywouldstartfirst,andstealhisglory.Valentin’s head was still light with alcohol. Their attack details had beenmeticulouslytimedwiththebarrage,butValentincouldnotwait.Halfaminutebefore the bombardmentwas due tomoveon, he signalledhis driver, and theHellhoundtanklurchedforward,camonettingswirlinginthedraughtofitsownpassing.Behind him his whole column started to move forward, tracks spinning anddustrisingintheirwake.Itwashalfamiletothehereticlines.Valentin’sscarfflewoutalmoststraightbehindhimashistankledthecharge.Amidtheruinandthe explosions, he could see shapes desperately trying toman guns, or fallingbackinconfusionasthemassedHellhoundsspedacrosstheopenground,theirtracksskiddingastheykickedupthedirt.

ThebarragecreptforwardastheHellhoundsclosedthelastfewhundredyards.It was a race now for the assault company to cross the ground before thesurvivinghereticscouldmantheiranti-tankweapons.Valentinwashalfwayacrosstheopengroundwhenthefirstshotsbegantoflareouttowardsthem.Tracerfirestreakedtheskyasheavyweaponsopenedupfrompillboxesandemplacements.Helaughedatthesuddenlightshowwhizzingpasthisears.Thefiringwaswildand disorganised. That anyweremanaging to firewith the bombardment thatwasrainingdownonthemseemedremarkable.Hedidnotduck.Hehadneverfeltsoaliveasatthatmoment,withthefuryofthehereticblastingoutathim.‘Take fire to the enemy,’ he called to his crews. ‘Faith in the Emperor ofMankind.’Attheendofhisspeechhecried,‘Cadiastands!’asautocannonshellsrangoutonthearmouroftheHellhound.The range finder spiralled down. At a hundred and fifty yards he tested theflamecannons.ThenozzleoftheHellhoundcannongaveabriefspurtofliquidfire,a thinpressurisedcone that fannedout intoa swirlof flames.Hellhound-gradepromethium filledhis nostrils. It felt good, despite his hangover, helpedhismindfocus.AtahundredyardsValentinslippeddownintothefiringpositionandbegantopantheAegislineontheleftforatarget.ItwasdrapedwiththedeadbodiesofGuardsmen, used as sandbags.Therewas at least one heavy-weapons team in

there,guessingfromthelinesoftracers.AmissilearchedoutandhitthetanktoValentin’sright.Theexplosionunderlitthecloudswithredandyellowasitsfueltankscombusted.Inches-thick ablative armour ripped open like paper.A torrent of fire goutedtwohundredyardsintotheair,andthen,longsecondslater,bitsofburningmetalbegantoraindown.Valentinbarelynoticed it.He tracked,aimedandfired,and theplumeoffuelarced out, feathering with flames. His targeter flared green as the flamesoverloadedthesensors.Helettheflameslingerforamomentonthepillbox.Theliquid fuel poured in through the narrow vents and filled the interior with anincandescentfire.Histankwasalreadymovingontothenext.TherewasathudastheHellhoundhitthewire.Thebarbedcoilsheldforamoment,thetracksspinning.TherewasascreechofmetalasthewiresnappedandtheHellhoundsurgedonwards.Ithitthe Aegis line with a judder that threw Valentin forward. Matto gunned theengine and the tank veered up, belly exposed for a terrifyingmoment, beforetheycrashedbackdownagain,slammingforwardonthesimplesuspension.Valentin swungaround topour fire into theenemy lines.The firstgout filledthefirsttrenchlikeacanalofknee-highpromethium,allaflame.ThenextarcedtowardsthesecondAegisline.Thethirdhitasquadofheretics,rushingforward,bentlow,demochargesinhand.Valentingrinnedasdarkshapestumbledoutoftheinferno.Dance,heretics,dance!Then thedemochargesblewand therewas thewetslapofbodypartshittingthe front of his tank.Matto tracked round.Therewas a dull thud of a humanbeingknockedtothegroundandcrushed,notthenoteofameltaorkrakcharge.Behindhim,Valentin’scolumnwashitting theheretic lines,widening theholethatthey’dpunchedthrough.OnValentin’sright,aHellhound–itmusthavebeenKristen’s–hitamineandslewed sideways. It came to rest in a shell-hole, nozzle-flame still hissingmenacingly. Another lifted up over theAegis defence line andwas hit in thebelly with a close-range melta shot that ripped through the Hellhound andcombusted thereinforcedarmouredfuel tanks. Itwas lifted twentyfeetoff thegroundwith theexplosionand firedburningwreckageacross thebattlefield, ahundredyardsinalldirections.He pressed his vox-stud to all channels. ‘All tanks, proceed south,’ Valentinordered.‘Maximumspeed.Maximumviolence.Cadiastands!’

‘Cadiastands!’wasrepeatedineverytank.They plunged forward, smashing into the second, third and fourth lines ofdefence, the pause in their momentum longer each time before they pushedthrough.Thiswas thecrucialmoment.Theyhad tokeeppressing forward,despite thelosses, forever pushing through for open ground. Hauser’s tank got snared inwireandcametoaskiddinghalt.Amissilearcedoutandhititonthearmouredflanks.Therewasapause,andthenitstartedtoburn.Thedriver’shatchslappedopen,andflamesbegantorisefromwithin.Out,damnit!Valentinwilled,butwhoeverhadmanagedtoget thehatchopendidnotappear.Maybethey’dgonebacktohelpsomeone,Valentinthought.Out,hewilled,punchingthecupolabeforehim,butthenthefiresspreadandthewholetankwentupwithahissofflamesthatbuilttoablowtorchroar.Valentindrewhispistol,shotanaxe-wieldinghereticthroughtheforehead.‘Forward!’heraged,ashisinfernocannonblazedoutoncemore.

FOURBASTION8,MYRAKSALIENT

Bastion8wasarockcretestar,sunkintoadrymoatfiftyyardswide–thelargestof the string of ancient defences that ringed the highlands – excavated withatomic bunkers, barracks, ration stores and munitions depots, and stoutlyfortifiedinthreesteppedlevels,eachoneofferingenfiladingfieldsoffireinalldirections.ItwasfromtherethatGeneralGrüberlaunchedhiscounter-attack.HerodeinaBaneblade named High Lord, a magnificent, brass-worked masterpiece, withfourlascannonsponsonsandaraisedcupolathrone.Ittrundledforward,Cadiansraisingtheirlasgunsinsalute.Theypassedoverthetrenchsystemsandpushedforward through thedetritus ofwar, chasing the front line as it pusheddeeperanddeeperintothegutsofthehereticarmy.TheHigh Lord ripped through the trench systems of the foe, its main gunspummelling any armoured resistance, while sponsons tore the combat stimm-inducedfightersapartwithheavyboltshellsaslongasaman’shand.Thevasttracks barely noticed the tank traps and trench systems that had beenworkedwithsomuchcarebytheenemy.TheBanebladecrossedsixlinesoftrenches.Atmiddayonthefirstdayoftheassault,animprovisedcolumnofassortedBlackLegion tanks was thrown against it. They came rumbling forward across the

burned,openmoorland,blackbannersflappinginthesmoke-darkair.The Baneblade smashed through craters and piles of wreckage. It took fourgunners to man the Baneblade’s main cannon. They assessed the danger,pinpointedaVanquisheratthebackofthecolumn,andswungtheturretround.Ittookthemonlyafewsecondstolinethetankupandfire.TheBanebladeshelltoreahole in thearmourof theLemanRusswideenough for aman toclimbthrough.Itsexplosionrippedthetankintoshrapnel.OntheforedeckoftheBanebladetheDemolishercannontargetedtheclosestoftheenemytanksandfiredarocket-propelledsiegeroundatit.Whenthesmokeclearedtherewasnothingleftoftankorshellbutasmoulderingcraterandafewscrapsofburningmetal.Allunitswerepushingforward.Itwasasifacrackhadopenedinavastdam.Thetorrentwastoofastandtoopowerful,theheadofwatertoogreattobeheldback. The gap opened wider until Cadian units were pushing forward on asixteen-milefront,withinfantryandsupplycraftcomingupbehindthem.All the time their massed artillery regiments were hammering the enemybacklines, preventing them bringing up reinforcements or even mounting aneffectiveresponse.Grübersatinthethrone,sworddrawn.Hisattendantsbeggedforhimtocomedownandprotecthimself.Grüberwasstern.‘Whodarestostandagainstus?’

Across much of the Myrak Salient the earth was pocked with craters, thevegetation scoured away or burned blackwithwar. The prospectwas one theCadians were familiar with as they moved forward by foot, or in armouredtransports.CaptainLation’s114thCadiansmaderapidprogress,defeatingthreesmalltankforces that had been sent to halt him. The first two were units of hereticGuardsmen,manning captured tanks and armoured transports.Theywere easypreyfortheeliteCadianunits,theirruinsleftburningastheCadianspushedon.ButthethirdwasapairofBlackLegionPredatortanksthatfoughtadesperateandeffectivebattle,sniping,fallingback,andsnipingoncemore.LationlostthreeLemanRusstanksandsustaineddamagetotwomorebeforehisgunnermanaged tocatchaPredatoras it spedbetween the ruins,hitting itwithabattlecannonroundtotheweaksidearmour.ThePredatorwasliftedupbytheexplosionandslammedbacktotheground,abrokenandburningshell.Asecond tried to retreat between the rocks, speeding backwards, trailing smoke

intotheair.Lation had fought on the mist-bound moors of Maner and had a knack ofguessingwhereafoewasheading.‘Krak,’heorderedasthegunnerdraggedanarmour-piercing round from themagazine, turned and slid it onto the loadingramp.‘Loaded!’thedriversaid,throwingthegundoorshutandlockingitclosed.Lationelevatedthegunbarrel,addinganotherfiftyfeettotheshot.HemadeaquickprayertotheGoldenThrone,thenfired.The round arced off, leaving a swirling track as it plunged through the ink-black smoke. Therewas a pause as the cloudwound in upon itself, and thentherewasasuddenflashofflamethatshotstraightupintotheairlikeafurnaceblast.Lation led the column forward, checking that the second tank had beendestroyed. The Predator had been hit on the turret, and the armour-piercingroundhadburnedaneatholethroughthereinforcedplatingandexplodedwithinthetank,ignitingthemagazine.ItwasahitthatwouldhaveinstantaneouslykilledanImperialGuardcrew,butoneof theTraitorSpaceMarineshadsurvived,horriblywounded. Its legshadbeenblownawayandhalfitsfacehadbeenburneddowntothebone.Butitwasstillalive.‘Bringusclose,’Lationorderedhisdriver.

Lation’stankstoppedtwentyfeetawayfromthewoundedSpaceMarine.Goldburg,hisgunner,spoke.‘WhatshouldIload,sir?’Lationpausedforamoment.‘Nothing.’The thingwashuge,malformed, inhuman. Itseyeswereyellow,withverticalslits, like a snake’s. When its ruined mouth moved Lation knew there werewordsthere,thoughitwasanaccenthecouldnotunderstand.Hesliddownfromhistankandlandedonbothfeet.‘Idonotfearyou!’heshouted.Hefeltcouragefromhiswords.Thethingsnarledathim.ThesizeofthetraitorbeforehimonlybecameapparentasLationdrewcloser.Its chest was as wide as some men were tall. It was massive, solid, thoughterriblywounded,andstillmovingasitstruggledforbreath.Lationdrewhisservice-issuelaspistol.Hesetthechargetothemax,liftedthegunandsightedthething’sforehead.Thistimeheunderstoodtheaccent.‘Firetrue,captain.’

Lation felt sickat the soundof the thing’svoice.Hishand shookas it staredintohim.Thelightofitseyesturnedorangeandthenred,likearealfireburning.‘Shoot,captain!’thethinghissed.Lationfired.Thefirstshothit the traitoron thesideof thecheek. It scoredadeepburn.‘Again!’ithissedathim.Lation’shandwasshakingnow.Thenextshotmissed.Hesteppedforwardforthethirdandheldthepistolwithbothhands.‘InthenameoftheGodEmperorofMankind,’hecalledout,andfiredathirdtime.

SallyPorts,Salvation9983

It felt good to be driving again. Bendikt stood in the turret of his tank andbreathedthemomentdeep,butevenasheledhiscolumnforward,hewaitedforhisvoxofficertoconnecttoGeneralGrüber.Grüber’svoicewastightanddrawn.‘Whatisyourstrength?’hedemanded.Bendikt knew the figure off by heart. He was leading one thousand fivehundredLemanRusstanks,assortedpatterns.FiftyHydradefenceplatforms.Asquadron of assault tanks. Thirty-nine Knights Errant. A hundred thousandmechanised infantry. Ten thousand kasrkin. Bendikt allowed himself a smile.‘Wemakeupthe207thArmy.’TherewasalongpausethatBendiktenjoyed.‘Youaresureofyournumbers?’Grüber’svoicequeried.‘Allcorrect.’‘Whatisyourposition?’Bendiktchecked.‘PointSeventy-Three.’‘207thArmyisnotonmylist.’‘We’renew.’Therewasanotherlongpause.‘Thatisimpossible.’Bendiktpaused.‘Locationconfirmed.PointSeventy-Three.’‘Youcannotbe.’‘Weare,GeneralGrüber.’Grüber’svoicewascurt. ‘I said that is impossible.Pleasecheckandconfirmimmediately.’Bendiktpausedforamoment.Hedidnotbothercheckingbutbroughtthevox-linkbackuptohismouth.‘Confirmed,sir.’‘You’retwentymilesbehindenemylines.’‘Confirmed.’

‘Leadyourforcestocutoffhostilearmyunits.’‘I’mafraidIcannot.’‘Whatdoyoumean?’‘IhaveordersfromtheLordCastellan,UrsarkarE.Creed.’‘Andwhatarethoseorders?’‘Icannottellyou.’Grüberputonhisofficiousvoice.‘MajorBendikt.YouareaddressingageneraloftheAstraMilitarum.’Bendiktletthemomenthang,andengagedthevox-stud.‘Yes,GeneralGrüber.I am also a general. I have my own orders. I will be following those. Goodhunting!’

A battalion of Volscani defended the pontoon bridges over the Myrak River.Behindthem,inthefardistance,thepylonsoftheElysionFieldsroseupagainstthehorizon.Bendikt used a scope to assess their position. Three Leman Russes and aDestroyertankdugintotheriverbanks.Thehereticunitputupacommendabledefence.Theirinfantrysquadsweredugintofoxholes.Missilesarcedoutfromthemasthetanksfiredatafuriousrate.The89thArmyGroupdemolishedtheminlessthantenminutes,andBendiktled his army out over the Myrak River and past their burning wrecks, theVolscanitroopslyingdead.Intwohourshisarmyhadcrossedtotheotherside.Theypausedtorefuel,re-armandregroup,andthentheywereoffagain,battingawaythreehereticforcesthat were flung at them. It was not until nightfall that they met seriousopposition: a Black Legion column that had been diverted to impede theirprogress.TheTraitorSpaceMarinesbroughtBendikt’sarmytoahaltfornearlytwo hours, as outflanking units enveloped them, and they slowly ground theBlackLegiondown.The battlefield was littered with burning wrecks. They belched black smokeintothegatheringgloom.Bendikt’s tankwas pushing cautiously throughwhenMere called up to him.‘LordGeneral,’Meresaid.‘It’stheLordCastellan.’Bendiktnoddedashetookthevox-linkandstartedtospeak,butCreedcuthimoff.‘Bendikt,’hesaid.‘Whereareyou?’‘We’vecrossedtheMyrakRiver.’

‘Good,’Creed said. ‘Well done.But I needmore.Can you reach theElysionFieldsbydawn?’Itwasfiftymiles.‘Confirmed,’Bendiktsaid.‘We’llbethere.’Creed’svoicesoundedstrainedandweary.Bendiktcouldimaginehimputtinghisfingerstohistemplesandrubbingthembeforehespoke.‘Thankyou.Doallyoucan.Please.You’retheclosesttroops.Please,doyourbest.Cadiadependsonit.’

FIVE17THARMYGROUP,MYRAKFRONT

WarlitCadia.Itwasasiftheplanetburned.On the surface raging firestorms lit upmiles andmiles of battlefront, whileoverhead lightning storms in the high atmosphere illuminated the night sky,punctuatedbyblindingflashesaswarpshipsdiedincataclysmicexplosions,theirplasmareactorsgoingnuclearandtheburningwrecksfallingtowardstheplanetlikevastflareshanginginthedarkness.All waswar, and gleaming above it the Eye of Terror pulsed and bulged asarcane sorceries were invoked. The vast globe swirled with vivid purple andyellow,blotchesofunholylightpulsingandfadinginsickeningpatterns.Under the hell-flames General Grüber’s army hammered relentlessly at thearmiesbeforethem,slaughteringhereticsastheyhowledandshriekedforward.Theforcestheyfacedwerehighonfrenzon.Foradaytheybattledthroughtheendlesstideofscreamingbodies.Lina was on the left wing, with one of the surviving armoured units of theCadian 8th, ‘Lord Castellan’s Own’. She’d been a sponson gunner at TyrokFields,butwithwarandfieldpromotionsshehadrisen tomaingunneron theRyza-patternDemolisher,HammerofTyrok.TheHammerwasatemperamentalbeastofatank,andontheseconddayofthe

assaultherenginestartedtoclangdangerously,thenshegroundtoahalt.In the absence of a tech-priest, it fell to Lina. She was the best at coaxingunhappymachine-spirits.‘It’syoursofthands,’Ibsicsaid.‘Frekk you,’ Lina told him as she lay under the tank, trying to unscrew thedrive-shaftpanels.Tanks filedpast on either side.Commanders had cloths tiedover their faces.Somewaved.Allstared.ATitan-hunting squadron of three Shadowswords trundled past, their servicetanksskitteringabout them.Itwasamagnificentsight,withScoutSentinels,abrigadeofHydrasandacomplementofancillarysupportvehiclesandtanks.InthecentreofthegreatconvoywerethethreeShadowswords,theirfixedvolcanocannons still smoking.Lina let out a long, lowwhistle. ItwasonlywhenyoucomparedthesizeofaShadowswordtoaLemanRuss thatyougotasenseofthe scale of these things. The immense tank crested the rise, the fixed gunswingingtowardsherasitdescended.‘Lookatthose,’shesaid,andstartedlaughingasasecondandthirdbehemothcrested the ridge. Just behind the sponson-weapon cabins, the side hatchessqueakedastheyswungopen.Hercrewspilledoutandstoodbesidetheirtanktowatch.‘HolyThrone!’onesaid.‘Frekk,’saidanother.IttookhalfanhourfortheTitanHuntersquadrontomaketheirwayacrosstheveldt. The sight of a pair of tech-priest Chimeras frustrated Ibsic. It wouldn’ttakeoneofthemlongtofixHammer.Butwitheachminutetheirunitwasracingfartherandfartherahead.Linawasdown there formore thananhour.She finallyslidherselfout fromunderthetank,satupandrubbedlubricantsfromherhands.‘Gotitfixed?’‘Ithinkso.’Shewasclimbingupwhentherewasasuddenflashoflight,andthenarollingboom.Linaducked.‘Whatwasthat?’Ibsichadhisscopesout.‘IthinktheyjustnailedaTitan,’hetoldher.‘Seventydegreeswest.’Linagrabbedthescopes.Thelandscapebeforeherwasflat,markedonlywithwreckage from the sky battle, which stood up from the ground like tufts of

burninggrass.‘Idon’tseeit,’shesaid.TwohourslatertheyreachedtheplacewheretheTitanattackhadbeenstalled.AdeadWarhoundlayonitsback,likeadrunkenmaninadown-hivebar:legswide,andheadtiltedbackinapostureofutterdebasement.Smokerosefromthehole in its chest cavity, a thick, noxious blend of promethium, lubricants andhumanflesh,allburnedtoignitionbytheheatoftheimpacts.‘Lookatthat!’Ibsicsaid.Theirtankslowedtoacrawl.Linapushedherwayupoutofthecupola.Thesizeofthedeadmachinewasbreathtaking.ThepaintworkoftheTitanwaschippedandworn.Thebarrelsoftheturbolaserwereblackenedandheat-stained.TheammofeedofitsVulkanmega-bolterhadbrokenopenandspiltboltshellsacrosstheground.Shetookinthesizeoftheshells.‘Frekk.’Thefightwasstillgoingon.TheflashesstrobedLina’sfaceasshelookedout.‘Keepthegunloaded,’Ibsicwarnedher.‘Done,’shesaid.There was good hunting that morning. In the ferocious battles, the hereticcounter-attackswereheldandthrownback.TheycameacrossthreemoredeadRenegadeTitansinthenextfivemiles.ThelastwasaJackalclass.Ithadbeenknockedoutperhapshalf anhour earlier andhadnot yet been isolatedby thetech-priests. As Lina’s tank approached, a Mechanicus Chimera pulled upalongside thestrickenTitan.Linawatchedasa tech-priestglidedout,octopus-like,onabedofcoilingmechadendrites.ItreachedtheheadoftheScoutTitan.MechadendritestouchedtheTitan’sheadandashudderwentthroughthegreatconstruct,andthentheheadlolledlimplytotheside.Itwas likewatchingafarmerputabolt into thebrainofagrox.Lina lookedaway.‘Let’sgetoutofhere,’shesaid,butkasrkinwereholding the linesofarmourbackasaShadowsworddroveup.Thesuper-heavytankcametoahalt,athinwispofsmokestillrisingfromthevolcanocannon.Thebatteryfanswerestillblastingcoldairthroughthecoolingsystems.Behind thecannon,ahatchopenedandaslim,hawkishmanclimbedup,puthishandtothesideofthemammothtankandsliddownthesideofthefixed-gunmounting.The tank commanderwalked along theShadowsword’s decking, one hand tothegunbarreltosteadyhimself.Heworethemarkingsofatankace.ButitwashispoisethatLinafoundinstantlyintriguing.Itwaslikewatchingapeacock.Hecame down one of the metal ladders, jumped the last ten feet and landed

squarely.When he turned towards her, Lina saw the handsomely scarred mouth andsilvergorget.SheknewstraightawaywhohewasandnudgedIbsic.‘It’sPask!’shehissed,butIbsichadseenatthesametime.Paskpusheduphis peaked cap and strolledover to thedeadTitan.Heput ahandagainstoneofitsvastthree-jointedtoes.Hestrucktheposeofabig-gamehunteronadeathworld.‘Sevenintwodays.Notbad.’Linadidn’tknowwhattosay.‘Thinkwe’vebrokenthem?’Ibsiccalledout.Pask looked up. ‘Hmm. Yes.’ He pointed up to the sky. They glimpsed thelightningflashesofaNavalbattle.‘Terrahasansweredourcall.’Linadidn’tknowwhathemeant.‘The Imperial Fists Chapter have come to our aid. They have brought thePhalanx.’Linanodded,butshedidn’treallyknowwhathewastalkingabout.‘We’ve got them beaten.’ Pask gave a short, weary smile. ‘Nowwe need topunishthem.Makesuretheyneverforgetit.’HeturnedhisbackandreturnedtohisShadowsword.‘Wehavetomakesuretheyneverdareattackusagain.’

FortherestofthedayGrüber’s17thArmyplungedthroughthehereticarmieslikeastilettoblade.Hewasfearlesswhentheystormedtheenemystrongpoints,hisBanebladelendingitsweighttotheattackwheneveritappearedtostall.Hemadeanobvioustarget,andhisarmoursavedhimfromsniperfireanumberoftimes.Hetookashottohisleg,butrefusedtostepdown,andinsistedthatthemedicaedresshiswoundthere,ontopoftheBaneblade.Linawasinvolvedintwobattles:oneagainstacolumnofChimeras,theotheragainstatankbrigadedugintotheslopesofalowriseabovetherivervalley.That day Creed’s broadcast did not come, but there was so much to do theattackspushedonregardless.Creeddidnotbroadcastthenextday,either.Itwas nightwhen the vox-box spluttered into life, an hour before the dawn.Linawascurledupinthebottomofthetank.Herheadwaspressedupagainstthehardmetalofthemagazinedoor.FlowerofCadiastartedtoplayandshefeltaprickleoffeargothroughher.‘Ibsic!’shecalled.Hewassleepinginahammockslungaboveher.Shehadtopokehimwithafingertowakehim.‘It’sCreed.’Ibsicflickedalighton.

‘Turnitup,’shetoldhim.Heturnedthevox-setupbutasthetunecametoitsendCreed’svoicedidnotcome.Therewasnothingbut thecrackleof static.Lina feltherheartbegin tobeatfaster.Somethingwaswrong,butthenawoman’svoicestartedtospeak.‘TheEmperorasksonly thatyouobey. Intolerance isablessing.TheFaithfulDeadwatchoveryou.TheMartyr’sgraveisthefoundationoftheImperium.Theonlycrimeiscowardice…’LinahadtoshakeIbsic.‘What’swrongwithit?Delanty!’Delanty, the driver, had the best touch with the vox. He crawled back andfiddled at the controls.Themilitarymusic came in and out.He gave up. ‘It’sworking,’hesaid.‘It can’t be.’ Lina slammed a hand onto the top of the machine. ‘She’s justreadingfromtheTomeofUpliftingThoughts.Something’swrong.Icanfeelit.Somethingisterriblywrong.’

SIXGUILDQUARTER,KASRMYRAK

InKasrMyrakthebuildingsalongthenorthsideofStatueSquarewereburning.Rath’scompanyhadlosttheirvoxwhenthey’dfallenback.Volscanikillteamshadcomeupbehindthem.Thejawshadsnappedaboutthem,andtoomanyofthemhadbeencaught.Yelena’ssquadhadbeentakenalive.SomehowMinkahadslippedout.Butnotuntilshe’dfoundthebodies.‘Theywerealldead,’Minka told them.She lookedatherhands. ‘Theywereskinned.’Rathwasstillcoveredindust.Hestoodup.Hesqueezedhershoulderwithhishand. She waited for him to say something, but he had no words. Noencouragement.Nothing.Therewere only thirty-odd left. They had their backs to the river. They hadtaken a beating. Therewasmore to come.Minka closed her eyes, but all shecould see was Yelena’s squad, each wet corpse hanging like meat from thelamppostsalongMunitorumStreet.Sheshookherself.‘Nowthere’sjustus,’Taavisaid.Rathnodded.Hehadhisbacktothem.

‘Whenwilltheycomeforus?’Rath turned. His look was fierce. It rekindled Minka’s flagging defiance. ‘Idon’tcare,’hesaid.‘Whenevertheycome,we’llbeready.’Rath had no answers. ‘In the last supply drop, they sent us these.’ From hispack,hepulledarattlingclothbag.Heliftedupahandfulofsmallglassphials.Zasklookedgrim.‘Frenzon?’Rathtookonefromhispalmandhelditup.Taavigavehimahardlook.‘Youthinkwe’redonefor?’‘No.Butifthereisnothingleft…’‘Iwon’ttakeit,’Taavisaid.‘I’maCadian.I’mnopenallegionnairethathastobedruggedintobattle.’Rathlookedabout.Hewaslookingfortakers.‘Maybewe’lltakemoreofthemout,’Zaskstarted.Hewasfindingithardtogethisthoughtout.‘Imean.Ifwekillmoreofthem.Doesitmatter,howwego?’Minkarememberedthehangingbodies.Maybeitwouldbebettertogointothelongnightmad.‘Givemeone,’shesaid.Rathputthephialinherpalm.‘HowdoItakeit?’‘Biteit,’hesaid.‘Whathappenswhenitrunsout?’Rathgaveherahardlook.‘Don’tworry.Whenitrunsout,you’llbedead.’That evening Rath’s company sheltered in a cratered building, half of themawake,staringintothedarkness,lookingforwhatevermightcome.Minka faced south across the ruins. They stood up like broken teeth. Shethought she saw shadows, but nothing came, nothing moved, and she heardnothing,excepttheheavybreathingofOlivet,whowaswatchingthestreetwithher.‘Didyoutakeany?’shesaid.Olivetshookhispocket;itrattledwithphials.Minkahadherphial,butshecouldn’timaginegoingmadintothedarkness.ItwastoomuchliketheUnnamed.‘Thinkyou’lltakeit?’Heshrugged.‘Notuntiltheend.’Shenoddedandfelt for thephial throughthe thickclothofher jacket. Itwassmall,hard,faceted.‘Idon’tthinkI’lltakeit.’‘Sowhydidyoutakeone?’‘Justincase.Iwanttogosaneanddisciplined.’‘LikeaShockTrooper?’Olivetsaid.

‘Yes.It’sallIeverwantedtobe.’Therewasalongpause.‘Thinkwe’restillWhiteshields?’Shelookedup.‘Well,youstillhavethestripeonyourhelmet.’He laughed. Innormal times they’dhavebeenpromoted fromWhiteshield toShock Trooper after they’d killed their first enemy. But these times wereanythingbutnormal.‘Iwon’ttakemine,’Minkasaid.‘Idon’twanttoendmylifelikeamaddog.’

Afterthefirstwatchwasover,MinkawokeTaavi.Hejumpedawake,andshehadtowhispertohimtocalmhimdown.‘Justme,’shesaid.Henodded,andblinkedandpushedhimselfup.Minka took her turn resting, but she found it hard to sleep with the balefulpurple-and-greenlightof theEyeofTerror throbbingin thenightaboveher. Itwassobrightthatitcastashadowontheground.Evenwhensheclosedhereyesshecouldseeit.Shetossedandturned,pulledan old greatcloak over her head and dreamt that she was flying above KasrMyrakandthatbeneathher thecitywasasbrightasasummerday,beforethewar.Shewassafe,sheunderstood,andthatwasafeelingshecouldalmostnotremember.Shewaslight,shewasradiant,andshewassafe.

TwohoursbeforedawnMinkawaswrenchedawake tocoldanddark,and theshoutsoffrightenedmen.ShedidnotneedtobetolditwastheVolscani.‘Where?’shehissed.Taaviwas crouchednext to her.His facewas smearedwith dirt and ash andsweat,andhalflitbydistantgoutsofpromethium.Hegaveheraquickbrief:atwo-pronged attack through the second floor of the hab-blocks overlookingMunitorumStreet.Therewereshouts, thebrightflashof lasrifles,andthenthecrumpofgrenadesgoingoffandsuddenlyaflamerfiringintothenight.Rathwasalreadymoving,slappinghischieffightersawake.‘Quick!’hehissed.‘Come!’Taaviwasup.Minkafollowed.Theyused the sewersandbasements tocomeupat theVolscani frombelow,firing through the broken floorboards, while other teams came at them fromabove,pinningtheVolscanidown,likeananimalcaughtintheupperandlowerfangsofitshunter.The fight took nearly two hours of desperate hand-to-hand combat. RathdispatchedthelastVolscaniwithhisknifeandthesurvivorspickedtheirseparate

ways back to the riverbank ruins. Minka was beyond exhaustion. Her feetdragged.Herbodyached.Shewasparched.Hermouthwasfullofdustandash.‘Allright?’Rathasked.Minkashookherselfandnodded.Shehaddriftedoff.‘Yeah.’‘Sure?’Shenodded,thenrealisedthathershoulderwasbleeding.Shepulledherjacketback.Itwasdifficulttoseeclearly.Rathtookherarm.Hisfacewasexpressionless.‘Looksclean,’hesaid.‘Makesureitgetsboundup.’Minkanodded.Shecouldn’tfindanywords.‘Taavi!’Rathcalled.‘Getherpatchedup.’Minka slumpeddown.Sheclosedher eyes.She fell asleep for a second, andjerkedawakewhentheneedleprickedherskin.‘Weshouldbedead,’shesaid.Taavinodded.‘Aretheyteasingus?’Taavididn’tknow.‘There’slessofthem.Seethelights?’Hepointedvaguelynorthwardswithhischin.Theflickerofbattlewasdrawingslowlycloser.Shethoughtshecouldhearitsdistantrumble.Itwasallshe’dyearnedfor.Allshe’ddreamtofformonths,but now itwas here it seemed as distant and unreal as a desertmirage.Taavisoundedcheerful. ‘I think the relief is coming. I think the enemyare taking apoundingoutthere.’Minkapaused.‘SoKasrMyrakwillberelievedafterall.DoesRathknow,youthink?’‘Heknows.Butevenifthey’recoming,howmanyofusareleft?Idon’tthinkwecanholdout.’ForamomentdespairfilledMinka.Sheteeteredontheedgeofit,andknewitwastheexhaustion.Knewitwaswhatherenemieswanted: tobreakherspirit.Tocrushhersoul.ShefeltthepresenceoftheArchenemy,likeaclawedfistcrushingatherheart.Andthen,amemory.OfbeingliftedintotheskyandbeingtoldthesacreddutyofeveryCadian.Tofight.Toresist.Tonevergivein.Sheswallowedbackthedustinhermouth.SaidaprayertotheGoldenThrone,and there, like a wavering light in the distant darkness, she felt hope. It ranthroughherboneslikeaslugofamasec.Shetookthephialoffrenzonfromherpocketandletitdropontotheground.

She stamped down, cracked it openwith the heel of her boot. It smelled ofliquoriceandspice.Itwasgoodtoletitgo.Totakefrenzonwastobelikeoneofthem:theenemy.Shewashuman.ShewasaCadian.Shewasa fighter.Therewas faith inherbones. ‘I think we can hold out,’ she said. Exhilaration ran through her likestimms.Shegrippedhishand. ‘Youmustbelieve,Taavi.’Sheheldhimby theshoulders.‘Believe!’shetoldhim.‘Wecandoit.Doyoubelieve?’Hestaredatherandshecouldseethathedidnot.Hiseyesglistenedwithtearsashepursedhislipsandshookhishead.Hedidnotfeelit.Hewasdeadtired,exhausted,fearful,buttherewasafiercebeliefwithinher.Sheshookhimandheswallowedandnodded.Atlast,hecroakedthewordsout.‘Stop,Minka.Please.Youbelieveforme.Thatwillbeenough.’

ThateveningMinkawokewithastart,fromadreamwhereshehadbeenburiedunder rubble andwas drowning in dust and gasping for breath until a goldenlightshoneandshefloatedupfromtherubble,likeafeathercaughtinagustofair.Theelationwokehersuddenly,andshesawherfellowsstandingabouther.Shewassleepingonashelfofrubble.Hergreatcoatwasthrownoverhershoulders,herlegshuggedtoherchest.Herlimbsweresoreasshestraightenedthemout.Shewantedtoseewhattheywerealllookingat.Asshestoodshesawtothenorththeflashesandfiresoffightingclosertothecity.‘They’recomingforus,’Rathsaid.Inthedistancetherewasasuddenboltofredlight.Itshoneoutandthentherewasarumbleofanexplosion.Itseemedmuchcloserthanbefore.Taavistoodup.‘Howfaristhat?’Rathshookhishead.‘Twentymiles.’‘Mightaswellbeahundred,’Taavisaid.Thelightsdimmed,andthefightingseemedtohavedieddown.Itwasasifalong dark room had been momentarily illuminated, and when the shadowsreturnedtheyseemeddeeperthanever.Noonesaidanythingforalongmoment.Theyweretootired.Toobattle-weary.Theirhopehadflickeredforamoment.OnlyMinka stood staring north.Her sleep had been brief and fitful, but herexhaustedbodynolongerneededanythingbutbelief.Herfaithbecamestrongerastheirstrengthgrewless.Itfilledhernow,almostlikealight.Itmadeherpale

faceradiantinthedarkness.‘Theywillcomeforus,’shesaid.She looked down. They were all staring up at her like a prayer-daycongregation,andshefeltherdevotiontotheGoldenThronesurgethroughher.‘Theywill come,’ she said. ‘Itwill not be long.Victory shall be ours.Allwehavetodoisholdout.Wemustnevergivein.Understand?Never!’Theirpalemoon faces staredupather,wanting to shareher confidence.Hergazewentfromfacetoface,andhersmilespread.Atthelast,shelookedacrosstheseatedmenandwomenandsawthedullredlightofRath’saugmeticeye.Thecaptainsaidnothing.Hedidnotbelieveinhope.

SEVENELYSIONFIELDS

TherewasnothingtheSpaceWolf,Skarp-Hedin,hatedmorethanthesetwisted,malformedparodiesoftheAdeptusAstartes.Theywerenotjustabhorrent,theyweredangerous.Theirabilitytogrowweaponsfromtheirinfectedfleshrepulsedhim.Killingthemwasnotapleasure;itwasaprimalneed.Itwasaduty.Aswarswept across the pylon forest of the Elysion Fields, Skarp-Hedinwas feedingthatneed.TheChaosSpaceMarinehadtwomalformedmouths.Theybothsnarledasittriedtoformanotherarm.Skarp-Hedin’sswordcrackledblueflameasitcutthebuddinglimboff.ThemouthsmoanedwithpainandSkarp-Hedin’sbootcrasheddownontothecreature’schest.Therewasacrunchofpowerarmour,boneandflesh.Brother.A voice spoke in Skarp-Hedin’s ear, but the Space Wolf was too intent onkilling to pay it any heed. He’d lopped off the monstrous traitor’s limbs, aschildrenwouldpickoffthelegsofbeetles.Andnowhewasgoinginforthekill.Ashereacheddownonemouthmewledinincoherentagonyandsuffering,buttheotherspoketohim.‘Youcankillme,butvictoryiswithinourgrasp.’

‘Youwillnotseeit,’Skarp-Hedinsnarled.‘YouareaslostasI.’Skarp-Hedinwasbeyondwords.Heputhisweightbehindthesword’shiltanddrove it through theneckof the thingbeneathhim. ItdiedwithashudderandSkarp-Hedin breathed the stink of blood deep, and looked about for anotherenemytokill.Brother.The voice spoke again. Skarp-Hedin spun on his heel and stared about him,lookingforfoes.TheEyeofTerrorfilledtheskywithpurple,andontheplainaroundhimwereheapsofbodies.Momentscamebacktohim.Whilehumanarmiesmetinvastbattles,twoelitewarbandsofSpaceMarinesandtheirChaoticbrothershadmeteachotherinanexultantduelofswordandaxe.Skarp-Hedinhadfollowedhismaster,OttartheWhite, as a hound follows the pack leader.Themelee had attractedmore andmoreancientwarriors,likecarriontoadyingbeast.Now,asSkarp-Hedinspunabout,itseemedthatnooneelselived.Nothingmoved.Hisnostrilsflared.Hecouldtellthebloodofhisgene-brothersapartfromthatoftheirfoes.Hecouldsmelltheirgene-seed,despitethedistortionsthatChaoshadwrought.He sniffed forwarmblood.He smelled for life among the piles of dead.Hestoodat the topof ahillofbodies in thegreyandblackpowerarmourof theSpaceWolves and the Black Legion. Heads had been severed. Gore puddledaboutthefallenbodies,eachshowingtheexcessivetraumathatittooktokillamemberoftheAdeptusAstartes.Brother.Skarp-Hedin spun about, crouching low, ready to fight. They had beensurrounded.Therehadbeenhundredsof theBlackLegionnaires,butnowtheyhadallgone.Hehadnotkilled themall.Hewassure.Hismindscrolledbackthroughthevidrelaysinhishelmet.No.Hehadnotkilledthem.Theyhadfledbeforehisfury,climbingbackintodreadclawsandlandingcraftandblastingofffromtheplanet.Skarp-Hedin laughed, great fangs bared in his supreme confidence. He hadbeenoutnumbered,hehadfoughtthem,andhehaddestroyedthem.Hebeathischestwithberserkfuryandexultation.Traitorsandcowards!Somethingmoved atSkarp-Hedin’s feet.Heput a bolt-round into the thing’sskull.IthadoncebeenamemberoftheEmperor’sChildren.Nowitwasdead,

itslastlungfulofaircomingoutinatideofredbubbles.Helookeddownandsawthathewasstandingonapileofthedead,fiftybodiesdeep.Hisgreyarmourwasfleckedwithblood,someofithis.Hesnarledashespunaboutlookingforanotheropponent,butthelandwasemptyexceptforthedead.Andallknewthedeaddidnotriseagain.Brother.Fromthetopofthecorpsemound,Skarp-Hedinlookedoutonahellofbattle.Inthefardistanceruinedtanksstillburned, likefoothills tothevastwrecksofTitansandLeviathans that roseover themall, theiremptyhulksnowdarkandflame-stainedandsilent.Closertohim,wherehiswarbandhadbeenbroughttoground,hillsof thedeadroseup,cragsofheadsandtorsosandboots,coveredwith the grotesque covering of reaching hands and fingers, like the wretchedfloraofadaemonworld.Thehillsmarkedwhereeachofhisfellowbrothershadstoodandfoughtastheytriedtocuttheirwaythroughtheenemyandhadbeenbrought low. The air stank of death and blood, and from deep down in thebottomlayerofbodies,theunholyreekofdecay.Andthere,athisfeet,beneaththeheadlessstumpoftheObliterator,hesawtheshrivelledskullofhischieftain:OttartheWhite.Itallcamebacktohimashestareddownatthebodybeforehim.Hischieftainsurroundedbyfoes,settingabouthimwithhisaxeandcallingonhis retainersforhelp.Skarp-Hedinhadrippedthroughhumanandtrans-human.Theairwasthickwiththestinkofsuper-heatedblood.Hisswordstillsizzledasifitwantedmore.‘Lord!’hehissed.Brother.‘Lord!Ifailedyou,lord.’Brother.TheancientSpaceWolfchieftainhadtakenwoundstohisarms,legsandtorso,butitwasthefinalmeltashotthathadsearedaholethroughhisgrey-and-gold-workedpowerarmourthathaddonefortheancientwarrior.Ithadtakenoutoneofhisheartsandhadoverwhelmedabodyalreadywounded,alreadyweakened.Alreadydying.‘Ifailedyou,’hesaidthroughfangedteeththatsnarledinfury.‘Wehavefailedthisworld.’Brother.Theplanetislost.Thewordshadnomeaningforhim.Abovehim,theEyeofTerrorfilledtheskywithluridpatternsofpurple.Theycastabalefullight.

Skarp-HedinhadtoforceOttar’sdeadfingersopentogetthebladefree.Evenindeath,theSpaceWolfwouldnotletgo.Theplanetislost,brother.Skarp-Hedin’sfingersliftedthegreatdouble-headedaxe.Theweaponbalancedinhishand, lightonlyforaSpaceWolf.Skarp-Hedin’sfangsdrewbackasfaroffanartilleryduelreachedacrescendo.LightbringerwasasoldasFenrisitself,abeautifullycraftedweapon,haftandbladeall forgedfromasingleblockofmeteoric iron. It feltwarminhishand,the blade still cracklingwith nascent energy.Theblade glimmereddarkly andSkarp-Hedingrinned.Heknewthatthedealhadbeenstruck.Brother.Theplanetisdoomed.Skarp-Hedin’snostrilsflaredashesuckedintheCadianair.Far-offstrobesoflance fire stabbed down through roiling clouds of smoke and ash. In theflickeringdarkness,hesawthewildlightofpacksofdaemons,blinkingthroughtheImmaterium.Moreenemiestokill.Withgreatlopingstrides,andlimbsthatdidnottire,theSpaceWolfbegantomovesouth.Hewasthelastnow.Thelastofhiswarband,theonlyonetocarrythe names of the dead and their great tales back to Fenris. This alone wasresponsibilityenough.Hecouldnotletthefeatsofhisbrothersgounrecorded.‘Brother. The planet is doomed. We need to get you off the planet. Confirmposition’Thevoicewasinsistentinsidehishelmet.ButSkarp-Hedinwaslosttothejoyofhuntandbattle.Astarappeared in thedistantskyandabove the thunderofbattleheheardthedistanthowlofWulfen,andinanswer,Skarp-Hedinputhisheadbackandhowled.ZufurtheHermeticwasdead,withallhiscursedwarriorsabouthim.Theymadea fittingcairn forOttar theWhite.NoSpaceWolfcouldwish formore.

EIGHTPOINT395,MYRAKFRONT

Valentin’sHellhoundsquadronwasstillhalfadayawayfromtheElysionFieldswhentheMarauderdestroyersweptlowovertheground.Fourmorefollowedandthelastonegavethemasimplesaluteasitwaggled itswingsandsweptonsouthwards,weaponmountsfully loadedwithhunter-killer missiles. Valentin couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen airsupport.‘Justlookatthat,’hesaid.‘Wherethehelldidtheycomefrom?’‘Idon’tcare,’hisdriversaid.‘Aslongastheyputthoseweaponstouse.’As the roar of the Marauders diminished, they could hear the vox playingFlowerofCadia.‘Hush!’Valentinsaid,andturnedthevolumeup.ItwasCreed’svoice,atlast.‘PeopleofCadia.’‘Shutup!’ValentinpunchedhisgunnerandtheHellhoundslammedtoahalt.‘You have done all that I have asked, andmore. You have driven the enemyback.YouhavewonthebattleforCadia.’Therewasapause.‘Youhavewon,butitismyduty,myheavydutytotellyouall thatCadia,ourhome, isdoomed.Not for lack of courageand strength onyourpart.Youhavewonthebattle.Yourhonourisunblemished.‘You might think that this is a defeat for us. But it is not. I assure you.

Preparations are being made now. After this message, there will follow abroadcastannouncingtheevacuationzoneswherelanderswillcometoliftyouall from theplanet. I repeat.This is not defeat.The fightwill goon.We shallcarry the flameofCadia back to the Imperium.We shall fight to defendHolyTerraitself.’At the end of the broadcast a different voice – strained with emotion –recountedalistofevacuationsites.Valentin’screwlistenedinnumbsilence.The list started at the beginning again. It repeated three times before anyonespoke.‘Frekk,’Valentinsaid.Helookedupandtheothersnodded.Frekk.

MyrakFront,17thArmyGroup

Lina’sHammerofTyrokwasspearheadinganassaultonaVolscaniredoubt.Shewas stripped down to her undershirt. Her back was slick with sweat, herforearms slickwith lubricants and soot, her vox-beadhanging about her neck.Shefittedthechainsaroundthekrakshell,pulleditacrossthetankandlowereditcarefullyintoplace.‘Loaded!’sheshouted,butinsteadoffiring,therewasapause.‘Loaded!’sheshoutedagainoverthesalvoofheavybolterrounds,firedbythefrontgunner.Thebolt feed jammed.Thegunnerpulled at thebolt-rounds, and the loadingmechanismsclickedastheboltsfedin.Theyweresobusyfightingtheydidn’thavetimetopauseasFlowerofCadiabegantoplay.ButwhenCreedbegantospeakIbsic turnedthevolumeupandtheyworkedalittleharderandfaster.Butthentheevacuationorderwasissued.‘Whatdidhejustsay?’Ibsicsaid.Linapaused,butthenaroundpingedoffthefrontofthetankandsheslammedthebreechclosed.‘Loaded,’shesaid.Ibsiccursedastheturretswivelledround.‘Loaded?’hecalled.‘Loaded,’Linacalledback.Shecaughtthedriver’seyeandlaybackagainstthemagazinepanels.‘Whatthefrekkdidtheyjustsay?’The tank rocked back as the main gun fired. ‘Confirmed kill,’ he said, anddroppeddownfromthefiringseatintothetank.‘Didtheyjustsayevacuation?’Hiscrewstaredathim.Noneofthemmoved.They’dallheardit,andnowthevoxwaslistingevacuationpoints.

Lina’s immediate reaction was that she was not evacuating. She was notevacuatingherhome.Shewouldfightanddiewithherhome.Butthelistofextractionpointskeptrepeating.Linakickedout.‘Idon’tfrekkingbelieveit,’shesaid.

NINERENAULTTRACT,CADIASECUNDUS

TheDrookianFenguardwaswhattheMunitorumclassedaslightinfantry:toughtribesmen used to privations andworking independentlywith little support orequipment. Movement was something they excelled at, but for the last twomonths theyhadbeen fighting a losingbattle as the fens cover theyhadbeenrelying on had been gradually eroded by fire, or simply swarmedwith enemytroops.IasenKwaynwasWidluosoftheKernClanofDrookVI,whowereknowntothescribesoftheMunitorumasthe53rdDrookianFenguard.Hetookhisroleofcounsellor,law-giverandremembererseriously,especiallynow,whenitseemedthat the existence of theKernClanwas at risk. Theywere like theDrookianfangfishwhose pools had been drained, andwhowere left flopping back andforthontheirsides.TheDrookianswere deep in the frozenmarshes of theRenault Tract,wheremilesofrattling,drysorghumweredrapedwithtrailingmist,fightinganarmymade up of cultists from a number of hiveworldswho still bore their gangertattoos.The sorghumwas thick as bamboo. Itmade the perfect environment for thelightDrookiantroops,anddespitetheirsmallnumbersthey’dbeenfightingfor

monthshalfhiddenwithinthetracklessmiles.TheChaostroopshadresortedtoclearingwholetractsoflandwithflame.TheFenguardwarriorswereputtingupastubbornresistanceastheyretreateddeeperinto themarsh,but thenumbersofdeadweregatheringpaceall the time, andmilebymiletheenemywerefinallyhemmingtheDrookiansin.Theendcouldnotbefaroff.As hewaded through the stagnantwater Iasen knew that therewas nomorepoint in running. Itwas time tocallon their father, theEmperor, and tomaketheirlaststand.A grenade exploded about fifty feet before Iasen. There was an outbreak offiring–ashortandviciouscross-stitchoflas-roundsinthetightconfinesofthemarsh. Iasencrouchedashe sawa squadofFenguard retreatingat anobliqueangletothebattle.Theywerewearingtheirrebreathers.Theireyesmethisandtheysignedtohimtokeepmovingback.Itwasalltheyhadbeendoingfordays.Iasenslippedback,leavingabriefripple,themarsh-sorghumbarelyrustling.Look!oneoftheotherssignedtohim,andhelookedup.Therehadbeenmanystarsinthemonthsthattheyhadbeenfighting.Brightexplosionsinhighorbit,as fleets of vast cruisers pummelled eachotherwith ferociousbroadsides.Butthis onewas unlike the others. It seemed distant at first, and not quite like aplasmareactoroverloading.Itwastoosmall,tooyellow.Itgrewinintensityatasteadilyacceleratingrate.Iasennodded.Ahandtouchedhisshoulder.‘Chiefwantsyou,’saidtheDrookian.‘Youmustcomenow.’

IasenfoundtheDrookianchiefstandingwithhisretainersinasmall,darkpool,slickwithanoilyfilmofpromethium.Thechief’seliteattendantsweredressedinallkindsofshabbyImperialcast-offs,allnowthesamedrabandfadedgrey.Theirfaceswereobscuredbytheircruderebreathers;tubeswoundaroundtheirnecks and shoulders, their skinwasbluewith tribal tattoos, and allwore theirclanknifeslungfromaplaidsash.Thechief’s facewaspaleyellowwith the lightof theEyeofTerror. ‘Wearenearlysurrounded,Widluos.’‘Yes,lord.’‘IhavedecidedthatIwilldiehere,onthismound.’Iasennodded.‘ThenIamgladtostandherewithyou.’Thechief’sfacewasstern.‘Youcannot.’‘But–’Iasenstarted.

Hischiefspokeoverhim.‘Youknowalltheoldstoriesofourclan.OneofusmustescapeCadia,andbringnewsofhowtheKernClandied.’Iasen looked around the others. They were all staring at him over theirrebreathermasks.Heunderstood.‘Notme!’‘Itismyorder.’Iasen lookedat thefacesof theotherretainers.Behind their rebreathers, theireyeswerehardandset.Theyhaddeterminedit.Thiswasthemomentforthemtodie.Hewouldnotbewiththem.Iasen feltbetrayed. ‘Icannot leaveyou, lord.Youaremyclanchief.What isouttherebutahostileworld?Menwilllookdownonmewithcontempt,andsaythatIlivedwhenmylorddidnot.Icouldnotlivewiththeshame.’‘Itismyorder,Iasen,’thechiefsaid.‘Oneofusmustescapetotellthetaleofhowwefoughtanddied.’Another firefight broke out, even closer this time. As Iasen looked at theirfaces,hesawtheireyesgrowbright.Theyshonewithayellowlight.Oneoftheretainerssawitfirst.Hesignedandpointed.Therewasastarinthesky.Itwasgrowingbrighter.Iasenturned.Theyallfollowedhisgaze.Thestarlittheskylikeasecondsun.Afterafewmoments,itwastoobrighttolookat.Itcastashadowontheground.Theycouldhearitsroar,likeanearthquakerollingtowardsthem.Iasencriedoutasitpassedoverhead,fillingthesky.The sonic shock threw him flat. He found himself on his hands and knees,staringatthesilhouetteofhisheadagainstaburningsky,andherememberedtheprophecyabouttheendoftheworld.Thatdoomsdaywouldcomewithabrightstar,toobrighttolookupon.Ashelaytherehesawflames.Thewholemarshwasburning.Thestoryofhisclanwouldneverbetold.ThefensofDrookwouldneverlearnhowhersonshadfought,andwon,anddied.

ThestarthatlittheskiesofCadiawasafragmentofanancientobjectofxenostechnologyknownasaBlackstonefortress.The Archenemy had propelled it towards the planet, and despite all thecombined firepower of the remaining shreds of Battlefleet Cadia and theAdeptusAstartesstrikecruisers,theycoulddolittlemorethanblowchunksoffitsedges,likechipsfromapieceofflint.Desperatecaptainsflewtheirdefencemonitors into theBlackstone,hoping todeflect itscourse,but theancienthulkhadbeenpropelled forwardat sucha speed that therewasnoway it couldbe

stoppedorhindered.Thesmallerpieceshit theplanet likeshootingstars,burningup inhighorbit.Themainfragmentwasaslargeasamoon.Ithitthestratosphereanditsedgesstarted to burn. It plunged down, an incandescent missile, tearing across theatmosphere above Cadia Tertius and Secundus and whipping up whirlwindsbehindit.The vacuum it created caused a sonic shock that crushed tanks. The impactcaused a crater two hundred miles wide and the shockwave sent gales andtremors that levelledeverythingfora thousandmiles.Millionsof tonsofearthwerethrownupinto theatmosphere,creatingamushroomcloudthatfilledthemesosphere with enough dust and debris to cause a millennia-long ice age.Concepts like day and night no longer had meaning. Huge cracks rippledthroughCadia’s crust. The tectonic plates ofCadia Prime began to break andblisterasshockwavesthunderedout, likeripplesfromabrickhittingapoolofstillwater.Tsunamisofmagmabrokethemantleoftheplanet.Rockcretebastionswerethrowntotheground,ancientkasrwerelevelled,butworstofall,theforestsofCadianpylons,whichhadheldbackthewarpforsomanymillennia,werethrowndowninruin.AtthistheEyeofTerrorbegantoreachoutforCadiaandseizeit.TheCadianGatewasnotjustbreached.Ithadceasedtobe.Thecesspoolofthewarpnowrushedthroughthegap,swampingallinitspath.TheDarkGodslaughed.

As storms wrapped Cadia, the last Black Legion kill squads fled the planet,chasingtheirflagship, theVengefulSpirit,as theancientbattlecruiserretreated.They left theheretics andcultists to their fate: thepopulationsof entirehives,entireworldsthathadfallentothedespairandtreacheryoftheDarkGods.Whatdidtheycareifthemillionsofslavesdied?TheImperiumofMancouldsupplymanymore.Without theirBlackLegionmasters toguide them, thecultists felluponeachother in berserk blood rites, ritual slaughter, or scenes of debauched cruelty.TheymadeeasytargetsforthedisciplinedCadians,andsurvivingunitsmountedfightingwithdrawalsas theymade theirway to thenearest evacuation stationsandlefttheplanet.The few remaining astral choirs tried to pierce thewarp to alertHoly Terra.Their screamsdied asBlackLegiondeath squads homed in on their positionsandmurderedthemintheinnersanctums.

Cadia’sevacuationplanshadfirstbeendrawnupintheaftermathoftheSecondBlack Crusade. As the order worked its way through the surviving servitornetworks, embedded protocols took over the programmed functions of cyber-organiccreatures.Cogitators thathadbeendevoted tomaintenance systemsorplanetarydefencenetworksswitchedtheirfocustocallinginlandersfromorbit,assessing unit strengths on the ground and directing loyal forces to the bestevacuation point. Mind-slaved servitors stopped working and stood in slack-jawedsilence,tryingtomouththeword:evacuate.Butmuchhadchanged in thegenerations since theplanshadbeensetdown.ThecautionofCadia’sforebearswasviewedwithmistrustandsuspicion,as ifeven the contemplationof evacuationwas treachery.Over thegenerations, theevacuation protocols had been updated occasionally and haphazardly. Theeffectsweresporadicand ill-conceived.Confusion reignedacrossCadia,madeonlyworsebytheterribleruinthathadbeenmadeofthenorthernhemisphereoftheplanet.UnitsoftheeliteCadian4th,whohadbeenfightingguerrillacampaignsinthepolar snowsofCadiaSecundus, found their nearest evacuation stationwas onthefarsideofanIronWarriorsplundercamp.Withnochoice,theylaunchedafull-frontalassaultonthetrenchdefences,andfoundthemabandoned,exceptforahandfulofenslavedferalwarriors.The103rdMechanisedenduredthetempestandearthquakesfromwithintheirChimera armoured personnel carriers. Once the evacuation order came, theywere confident ofmaking it to their extraction point, which was only twentymilesaway.Butthelandbetweenhadbeensobrokenandreformedthatitwasimpassable to tanks, and theywere forced to abandon their vehicles and foot-slog it through the crazed patterns of the lava fields, only to find, when theyreached the evacuation point, that it had been swallowed in vast pools ofbubblingredmagma.The46thRifleswereoverahundredmiles fromtheirevacuationpoint.Theyforce-marched through the night, abandoning any who were unable to keepmoving,onlytofindthattheirevacuationpointnolongerexisted,buthadbeenfloodedbythecollapseoftheUkulovDam.Otherregimentsfoundtheirextractionpointslocatedwithinmassivewarzones,or firmly held by units of the enemy, or that theywere the victims of a cruelglitchwithinthesystemandtheyhadbeengivenerroneousdetails.Some found their evacuation sites in good order with a clear commandstructure,orderedqueueswaitingfortheirlanderstoarrive.Thetruthdawnedon

them,asthehoursanddayswoundon,thatnoonewascomingtotakethemtosafety.Forthem,thelongwarwasover.

Any attempts to resolve the confusion through the planet’s vox networks felllargelyon increasinglyhystericalearsascommanderswhohadkept theirmenaliveoverthelastthreemonthsfinallygaveventtotheirfuryandfrustrationandimpotence–voxingitoutintotheether,foranywhomighthear.Buttheearsofthegalaxywereclosed.Even thosewhoarrivedat theextractionpointsunderstood that theywerefarfrom safe as the warp reached out to embrace Cadia. The walls of theImmateriumhad begun to shred, the laws of physics and order and reality nolongerheld,andtheworldbegantofillwithshapesandsoundsandcoloursthatdefiedhumancategorisation.AndtheDarkGodslaughed.

TENCADIASECUNDUS

Point 29.443 had once been part of a ridge of round-topped hills, with rockycrags fallingdown towards theplain, butAdministratum landscapershad longsinceflattenedthehillsandspreadthedisplacedearthouttocreateawide,levelplace for planetary landers to pick up troops. Now it had been designated asEvacuationPoint57B.ItlayinthemiddlehighlandsofCadiaSecundus:abroadlevelarea,twomilessquare,sealedwiththickslabsofrockcrete.BeforetheWarforCadia,theedgesoftheslabshadbeenmarkedoutbytuftsofgrassandoldgrox-droppings.Ithadlongmystified local grox herders, or bands of frozenWhiteshields, stumblinglost throughnightexercises in theMewlipHillsandfinding their feeton levelground.But now it offered the only hope of salvation to all the loyalistswithin fiftymiles.FirsttoarrivewasSisterHeloise,MistressofRepentanceoftheSistersofourMartyred Lady. She had seven surviving Sisters Repentia with her. They hadbeenscouring their sinsaway inbattlewithawarbandofBlackLegionnaires,buttheAdeptusAstarteshaddisengagedanhourbeforetheimpactandlefttheSistershurlingcursesintheirwake.

Theyhadstruggled through thegales,hackingatpacksofmewlingdaemons.Andnowtheyhadtosecurethisplace.‘Ministertothewounded,’HeloiseorderedherSistersRepentia.RepentiaBeatricerefusedtomove.Oneeyewascoveredbyablackpatch,thestubble of her scalpwas sore and flaking, therewere splatters of gore up herarmsandthighs,andherevisceratorwasrestingonhershoulder.Shelookedoutfromthehighplateau,sawthewarandflamesinthedistance,andstuckoutherchin.Shehadtoshoutovertheroarofthegale.‘We’rewarriors,notwet-nurses.Thereiswaroutthere!’Heloise’spain-lashcaughtBeatriceacrosstheshoulderandherkneesgaveway.‘Whyareyoubeingpunished?’Heloisedemanded.Beatrice’spalecheeksflushed.‘Fordisobedience,mistress.’Heloise’sfacethrustforward.‘Exactly.Thewarhere isalmostdone.It isourduty to serve, Repentia. And we are needed here.When the Cadian warriorshavebeentakensafelyofftheplanet,thenwecanremainandcontinuethefight.’Heloisepulledthemaskfromherhead,andherblackbobfellfree,sweat-soakedandstreakedwithgrey.Herfacewasdrawn.‘ButIamtheonewhodecidesthat.Understand?’She cracked her whip and caught Beatrice a second time. Repentia Beatricegroundthewordsout.‘Yes,’shesaid,reluctantly.‘Iwillminister.’Sheusedhereviscerator topushherselfupagainandslung thegreatweaponacrossherback.Beatricewasawarrior;ministrationswerenotnaturaltoher.Thefirstbandofsurvivors was staggering up the hill. It was a band of thirty Cadians, somebootlessandlimping,othersbandaged,stridingthroughthestorms.Theirfaceswerepaleanddrawn.Beatriceclenchedherhands into fists as she staredat them. Inherheart, shesawthemasfailures.Theywereallfailures,butsherememberedherorders.‘Welcome, brothers,’ she called as they came forward, but her words wereclumsy and unpractised. She was better at singing war hymns, not offeringconsolation.‘YouhavereachedEvacuationPointFifty-Seven-B.’Themenstared,eyesnumb,mindspushedbeyondtheirlimits.Beatricesteppedforwardandofferedahand to them,buthermannerwasas stiffasablockofwood.Themenshuffled forward, takingup theirposition,butat theback twomenlingered–onewithhisarmdrapedovertheother.‘Movealong,’shetoldthem,andpointedwhichwaytheyshouldgo,butasshedidsothemanbeinghelpedalongbytheotherstaggeredandfell.Beatricestood

overhim.‘Getup!’shecommanded,butthemangroanedandhalf-rolledtotheside.Ifshe’dhadapain-lashwithhershewouldhaveuseditontheGuardsman,butshe looked up and saw the harsh gaze of her Mistress Repentia on her. Shemovedforwardandputahandundertheman’sarmpit.‘Up!’shetoldhim,buthedidnotmove.‘Whatiswrongwithyou?’Shekneltnext to him, her black knee-greaves grating on the rockcrete surface, andproddedthebodywithhergauntlet.‘He’sdead,’shesaid.Shestoodandfacedthemanwhohadcarriedhisfriend.Hiseyeswererimmedwithdirt,hislipswerechapped;itlookedlikehehadnotsleptfordays.Shesawarefusaltobelieve,andfromsomewhere,fromdeepwithinher,andfromlongago,shefeltabriefsparkofpity.‘Whatisyourname,Guardsman?’‘Nazar,’hesaid.Therewasalmosta touchofgentlenessassheputahand tohisarm. ‘Nazar.Youhavereachedsafety.HavefaithintheEmperor.’

As the hours wore on, surviving units trickled in and were assigned onerockcreteblocktoeachregiment.Ithelpedtoorganisethescatteredunits.Some of the rockcrete squareswere half full of surviving troops, others hadonly a handful. All the time the skies grew darker and darker. The howl ofdaemons rang out. Men’s fingers began to tremble. The hearts of veteranGuardsmenbegantobeatfaster.Repentia Beatrice pulled her eviscerator from her shoulder.Mistress HeloisecrackedherwhipandbroughtalltheGuardsmentogether.ShestartedtosingahymnnamedBeThouMyArmour.TheSistersRepentiasangwithher,theirvoiceshighandbeautiful.‘Sing!’sheorderedtheGuardsmen.Oneofthemwasn’tsinging.Sheslappedhimacrosstheback of the head. ‘Sing!’ she shouted, and as she patrolled up and down, thediscordantvoicesoftheGuardsmenjoinedin.

EvacuationPoint88A,nearBastion8

In the foothills behind Bastion 8 Lord Commissar Grake took command ofEvacuationPoint88A.HearrivedwiththeremainsoftheCadian77thAirborne,who had covered over eight miles from where they had been managing afightingretreat.Hismenwerefearlessintheirdedicationandsofarhehadonlyshotthreemenintheentirehundred-daycampaign.

Asdaemon-lightbegantoflickerintheskiesabovethem,heknewthatonlythemostseveredisciplinewouldkeepthemalive.Whenthenextcompanyofmenarrived,nearlyahundredCadians,theylookeddeadontheirfeet.‘Halt!’Grakeshouted.Hisblackleatherjacketflappedinthecoldbreezeashepaced towards them. ‘Attention!’ he ordered, and despite their exhaustion, themen straightened up as they realised that they were being inspected. Theystraightenedtheir tri-domehelmets,holstered their lasrifles.SomeevenrubbedtheirbootsonthebackoftheircalvesasGrakestalkedalongtheline.Hestoppedbeforeamanwithabandageonhishead.‘You!’thecommissarsaid.‘Whatisyourname?’The smallman stepped to attention.He had a thinmoustache, and aweek’sstubbleonhischeeks.‘GuardsmanPape!’themansaid,andsaluted.‘Whereisyourrifle?’Grakedemanded.Papelookedabouthim.‘Idroppedit,sir.’Commissar Grake pulled out his pistol. One of the men in the second ranksteppedforwardtospeakforhim.Fromhisuniform,hewasthemajor.‘Sir!’ he said. ‘The lasrifle was broken. We had wounded men to carry. Icommandedhimtodrophisweapon.’CommissarGraketurnedonhimandshotthemajorinthehead.Hewentdownlikeagrox,thebolt-roundthrowinghimbackwardsagainstthemen behind him, who were splattered with bits of skull and brain and gore.GrakeswungroundtowhereGuardsmanPapestood,andfiredagain.Papefellagainstthemenbehindhim.Commissar Grake holstered his pistol. ‘Now, who is in command of thisshambles?’The Guardsmen looked about for the highest-surviving ranking officer. Twomen exchanged glances, trying to work out which was the senior officer.Eventuallytheolderofthetwosteppedforward,hisaugmeticlegwheezing.‘MajorLuka,’ theoldman said, and saluted. ‘Retired, twice.NowservingascommandingofficeroftheFifty-SixthRifles.’CommissarGrakelookedattheoldman.‘Thisunitisashambles.Bringthemintoproperorder.Understand?’MajorLukasaluted.‘Yes,’hesaid,withaninsolentpause,‘sir.’

TheblackfigureofCommissarGrakestrodeouttomeeteachsquadofarrivingGuardsmen, bolt pistol holstered at his side, one hand to his peaked hat, hisblackleathercoatflappingwildlyinthewind.Withinthespaceofhalfanhour,

hehadshotoverthirtymen.Themoodofthe56thRifleswasalreadyaggrieved,butwitheachretortoftheboltpistol, theirresentment turnedtohatred.‘Someoneshouldshoothim,’onemuttered.MajorLuka caught theman’s eyes and gave him awarning look. ‘Hush,’ hesaid.Accidentscouldhappen,butitwasbetternottotalkaboutthemfirst.

Homing beacons marked out the landing zone but the skies were ominouslydark.The troops huddled close as the galeswhipped dust and soot into their eyes.Theskywasgrowingconstantlydarker.Suddengustsofrainlashedtheirfaces,then changed to bouncing, stinging black balls of hail. Their home was agraveyard.Nowitwas turning intohell.Theywilleda lander toappear, to liftthemsafelyoff-planet–andwhentheflashingyellowlightsofatransportfinallydidappearintheairabovethemtheystoodasone,armsraisedasthewhitebarofasearchlightstabbeddowntowardsthem.The whipping clouds gave brief glimpses of the lander’s pale belly, itscruciform shape, sponson weapons panning for enemy contacts. The landinggearwasdown.Oneoftherampswasalreadyhalfopen,andthemencouldseefiguressilhouettedagainsttheinnerlight.The Cadian refugees stood and rushed forward. Some of the younger troopswaved.‘Back!’CommissarGrakeorderedthem.‘Back!’The lander settled fifty yards fromMajorLuka. Itwas a standardground-to-voidshuttle:abroad,squatbody,andtwopairsofshort,back-flungwings.Thedarkuppersurfacewasscarredwiththebareblistersofautocannonrounds,butthecraftlookedsound.Smallerlandingrampsloweredfrombothsides.Therearrampcamedowninaseriesofthreeirregularjerks.ANavyratingranforward,headlowagainstthethrustofthelander’sjets,thegalesbuffetinghimsideways.‘Whoisincommandhere?’heshouted,onehandonhishat.‘Iam,’Grakesaid.TheLordCommissarsteppedforward,hisblackleathercoatflappinginthewind.The rating turned to him. ‘Weonly have fifteenminutes, sir. Enemy fightersinbound.’‘Queue!’Grakeorderedthem,wavinghispistol.Hestoodonthelandingrampsasthetroopsfiledon.‘Inregimentalorder.Leaveequipmentbehind!Hurry.Ten

minutesuntilweleave.’Half of Major Luka’s 56th Rifles made it onto the lander, just as GrakesignalledtotheNavyrating.Therampbegantorise.‘Youcannotleavethem!’Lukashouted,butGraketurnedonhim.‘Youdaretotellmemybusiness,major?’‘Sir,Ijustwanttosaythatthesemenshouldnotbeleftbehind.Thereisspaceonthelander.Letthemon.’Lukastaredbackatthefacesofthementheywereleavingbehind.ItseemedthatGrakewasabouttorelent,butthenadaringGuardsmancaughtthelipoftherampandstartedtohaulhimselfup.Grakeputaboltthroughhisforehead.He shot twomorewho tried to clamber aboard.Major Luka turnedaway.Hefeltsick.Theyshouldhavekilledthiscommissar.

Therampclosedwiththreejerks,slowingforthelastfewfeetasthedoorsealsengaged.MajorLukastaredoutastheviewofhishomenarrowedtoahandspan,andthenbareinches.ThelastimagehesawofCadiawasthroughthewhippinggales, thousands of pale faces lookingup, their expressions vivid in thewhiteflashofthesearchlight.Thentherampsclosedwithahollowclang,ahissofairandtheclunkof thevoid-sealsengaging,andthenoisesofthestormwerestilled.Thelanderwasthree-quartersempty.‘Weshouldhavetakenmore,’MajorLukasaid.CommissarGrakehadholsteredhispistol.‘Weshouldallhavedonemore,’hesaid, and then turned on his heel and strode up the vast landing ramp, hisfootstepsringingoutinthehollowmetalshell.

MyrakRiver

GeneralBendikt’sevacuationpointwasatalevelledplateaunamedOldMan’sHill.Histankswereparkedinneatlines,dusthissingthroughthegaps,thetankcrewspeeringskywards.Thelandertoucheddownahundredyardsaway.Navyratingswavedthetanksforward.Thetroopsquicklyfiledaboard.Twentyminutesin,theenginesstarted.Bendiktwasstandingatthesideofthemainloadingramp.‘What’shappening?’Bendiktdemandedastherampsstartedtoclose.Noonelistenedtohim.‘Hey!’heshouted.The Navy rating managing the controls was a small, underfed-looking man,

withabaggyuniformtwosizestoobigforhim.‘Wehavetoleave,’heshouted.Hewavedtowardsthecockpitasexplanation.General Bendikt looked back at the queues of men. ‘That’s impossible,’ heshouted.‘Look!’There had to be thirty thousandmenwaiting to load.The rating shrugged. Itwasallbeyondhim.Hewasjustfollowingorders.‘Givemefiveminutes,’hetoldtherating.‘Orders,’theothermansaid.Damnorders,Bendiktthought.HepulledTysoncloseenoughtohear.‘DonotletthismanclosetherampsuntilIsayso.Understand?’Tyson pulled his laspistol from its holster and flipped off the safety.‘Understood,’hesaid.The rating’s gaze went from one to the other, and then to the laspistol. Helookedsick.‘You’llhavetotalktothecaptain,’hesaid.‘Ishall,’Bendiktsaid,andgatheredtwentymen.Bendiktledhismentothefrontofthelander.Thecockpitdoorwasunlocked.He stepped inside. The snub-nosed chamber was cramped; the control panelswerelitwithbuttons,leversandgreeninfoscreens.Bendiktstooped.Thepilotswerestrappedintotheirseats.Totheright,bythedoor,threemind-slavedservitorswerealreadystartingthedepartureprotocols.‘Thislanderisnotleaving,’heannounced.Thepilotdidnotturnaround.‘Sorry.Wehaveto,orwewon’tgetofftheplanetatall.’Bendiktputhishandonthepilot’sshoulder.‘Isaid,thislanderisnotleaving.Ihaveanarmyhere.Youwillstayuntilallofthemareloaded.Isthatclear?’The pilot turned. He was not used to being spoken to like this. ‘I have myorders,’hesaid.Bendiktdidnotflinch.‘Youhaveyourorders,butIhavealaspistol.AndifyoudonotdowhatIcommandthennoneofuswillleavethisplanetalive.’

LinaandIbsicmanagedtoboardthethirdlanderthatarrivedattheirevacuationpoint, along thebanksof theMyrakRiver.Theyhaddriven their tankaboard,and now they crouched by the tracks ofHammerofTyrok, nauseouswith thebuffetingturbulenceofthehigheratmosphere.Thecraftlurchedagainandtherewasacryoffearthroughthecrampeddeck.Eventhetankssliddangerously,andthechainsthatheldthemdowncreaked.‘Ihatelanders,’Linasaidasshewipedthevomitontohersleeve.‘Putmeback

onCadia!’Thereweretensofthousandsofwarriorslikethem,pennedupinsidethevasthangarsofthelanderswithoutanyideaofwhatwashappening.‘We’llnevermakeit,’Linasaidasthelanderrattleddangerously.Ibsickepthisheaddown,hiseyesclosed.ThelastsightofCadiahadmadehimsick.All he could seewas that vast column of smoke and ash, volcanic firesfountainingintothesky,andallhecouldtastewasthedirtofCadiainhismouth.

AcrossCadia scenes of panic and orderwere taking place as fleets of landersdescended from orbit, straight to the prescribed extraction points. At someplaces, troops rushed the landing site and the landers refused to set down.Atothers, fighting broke out, and half-empty transports lifted free, only to bebroughtdownbyatankshellormeltacharge.In places, it was Marauder bombers who landed, gunner crews pullingdesperateGuardsmenaboard.Somepilotsstayedwellbeyondtheirallottedtime.Others touched down at entirely deserted extraction points, the Navy ratingssquintingoutintothesootandashstormsandseeingnoonetoextract.Where the fighting had been fiercest, running battles took placewith cultistswhotriedtoscrambleaboard.Thelandercrewstookasmanysoldiersastime,orders or opportunity would allow, and lifted off, struggling to rise with theweightofthemenandwomenaboard.Once the carriers had lifted off, they had to face the hunter-packs of Chaosfightersandkillers.SomehadflightsofThunderboltsandMaraudersthatdrovethe enemyoff,while somewereundefended, and the enemy fell on them likehyenasonstraywildebeests,draggingthelanderstotheground.Someoftheevacuationcraftreachedhighorbit,wherefleet-basedfightersandassault boatswere still engaged in a furious battle for the skies ofCadia, andwhere they had to avoid the deadly impact ofBlackLegion assault torpedoesanddreadclaws.When they were boarded, some Cadians mounted furious defences, cuttingdowntheBlackLegionSpaceMarineswithincandescentlasriflesalvos.Othershadbeenorderedtoleavetheirweaponsbehind.Theyfoughtwithwhatevertheyhad to hand, overwhelming individual warriors with their fists, clubs andbayonets.Oncetheyhadunloaded,somebravelandercrewsreturnedtoCadia,honouringpromisestheyhadmadetomenleftbehind,andsomeofthemweresuccessful,carrying another load of veterans from the dying world. But increasingly, as

daemons began tomanifest all over the planet, fewer and fewer landing craftmadeitofftheplanet.Andsoontheflowofescapingmenceasedcompletely.

General Grüber was on board the last evacuation craft. He had personallysupervisedtheloadingofmostofhisarmy,andoncethewindowforflightwasalmostclosedhefinallyagreedtoleavetheplanet.Hemoved along the lander, hand to thewalls to steady himself as the craftlurchedupwardsthroughthehowlingstorms.By the timehehad reached thecockpit therewerearmed ratingsstandingbythedoor.‘Sorry,sir,’thenearestsaid.‘It’slocked.’Hewasatall,dishevelled-lookingman,withaslightstoopandthicklips,whichmadehisspeechindistinct.Grüberarticulatedcrisp,aristocraticwordsincontrast.‘Iwouldliketospeaktothecaptain.Letmeinside.’Theman touched his hand to his hat in a Navy salute. ‘Sorry, general. Thebridgeislocked.’Grüberbristledvisibly.‘Thenunlockit.’Themanlaughed.‘It’slockedsoyouandwecannotgetin.’‘IamGeneralGrüber,oftheCadianHighCommand,’Grübersaid.‘Well,’thesergeantsaid,withawrylaugh,‘lookslikeyoufailed.’Grüber barely understood what had happened until he felt the hands of theratings on his shoulders, and realised that he had the sergeant by the throat,pinnedagainstthemetalsheetingwall.‘How dare you?’ hewas hissing, and the sergeantwas gasping for breath asGrüber’sthumbscrushedhiswindpipe.Therewasamoment’ssatisfaction,thenbehindhimhehadabriefglimpseofoneoftheNavyratingsliftingthebuttofhisshotgun,anditallwentdark.

Grüber’s head still hurtwhen the landerdockedwith theirwarp-capable craft.Theairontheshipsmelledofoilsandthestale,dampscentofpurifiersinneedofagoodscrub.Butitdidn’tsmellofsmoke.Theabsencewasasnoticeableasthe stillness. The only sounds were the muffled groans of the ship’ssuperstructure:thedullclangsofenginariumshafts,thelowhumofatmospherepumps.Therewerenoexplosions,nogale,notearinggroanofaplanetcomingapart.The ship felt almost normal. The Navy ratings worked the airlock, brisklyclampingthe lander intoplace.Grüber tookinadeepbreathas thefinaldoors

opened.HehadlostnoneofhisdignityasheledtheCadiansontotheship.Itwasatubofacraftthathadbeencarryingfoodstuffsinitsvasthangarbelliesandstillsmelledofslabandfermentedproteinslop.GrüberhadarrivedbackonCadia in the personal quarters of Warmaster Ryse and his staff from theDeucalionCrusade. It had been a jolly trip,with axel-wood dining chambers,longtablesandthebestArcadyPridefromthepersonalcellarsoftheWarmaster.ItwasthekindoftransportthatGrüberhadbecomeusedto.Hefacedthisslabhangarwithill-disguiseddisappointmentandtookinadeepbreath.The Imperium had failed them, and thiswaswhat the heroes of Cadiawerereducedto:beingferriedfromtheruinsoftheirhomeinathird-ratefoodcarrier.

ELEVENKASRMYRAK

Without their vox the fighters ofKasrMyrak had no idea that the planetwasdoomed.Thereweretwenty-fiveofthemleftinaguildhall,withtheirbackstotheriver.TheVolscaniwerecomingatthemfromallthreedirections.Minkahadjustshotaflamer-armedVolscani.Shewaswaitingforhispartnertoshowhimselfroundthecornerofthebuildingoppositewhentherewasasuddenflashandaroarofnoise.ShethoughtforamomentthatitwasanotherflightofMarauderspassingjustoverhead.Thecollapsingbuildingsdidnothingtodispelthisidea.ItwasaMarauderonabombingrun.Buttheroargotlouder,andbuildingsaboutherbegantofall,andthentheearthstarted to shake.Minka pushed herself up. She thought she could stay on herfeet,butthetremorsweresoviolentthatshewasthrowntoherface.The roof above her crashed down. The wall she was sheltering behind felloutwards into the street. The whole earth was shaking andMinka howled interror,hervoicelostinthetumult.Thequakewentonforanage.AtlastMinkapushedherselfshakilytoherfeet.Hercitywasgone.StatueSquare,DivinationStreet,theIlliumBlock,eventhehigh crags ofMyrak Cathedral, where they had camped for the first week of

fighting,wereallgone.Everythingtheyhadfoughtfor, inchbyinch,blockbyblock.Therewasnothing.Notasinglebrickorblockofrockcretewasleftstanding.Allaboutherwasafieldofbrokenrock.Onlythecitywallsstillstood,butthehundred-yard-thick rockcrete defences had been broken into sections andscatteredmilesfromwherethey’doncestood.Minkaspunaround.Shelookedaboutinstunnedsilence.Nothingmoved.Noone.OnlytheMyrakRiver,swollenandfull,stillflowedeast.Anaftershockpassedandagalebegantogrow.Thensomethingmoved.Itwasanarm.Shepickedherwayacross.ItwasTaavi.Hewascoveredindust.‘Throne,’hesworeasshepulledhimfree.‘Minka–isthatyou?’‘Yes,’shesaid.‘Whathappened?’‘Idon’tknow.’‘Where’sRath?’Minkalookedaround.Shetriedtoguesswheretherestofthecompanywere.She picked her way along the top of the ruins. The ground beneath her wasrubbleanddust.MinkasetherfootonaslabthesizeofaLemanRuss.Itshiftedunderherfeet.Shepausedforamoment,tryingtoovercomeherfear.‘Rath!’sheshouted.‘Rath!’Therewasmovement in the rubble.Minka used her hands to pull the debrisaway.Fingersweregraspingforher.‘Help,’amuffledvoicewassaying.Minka scrabbled at the rubble, grabbed the hand and pulled. The debris fellaway, and in a terriblemoment she saw the shoulder plate. It was aVolscanitrooper.She letgoof thehand,pulledoutherknifeanddrove it into theplacewhereshoulderandneckconnected.Shefelt thebodytenseinpainasshemovedtheknifearound,lookingfortheartery.Warmbloodbubbledupoverherhand.Shepulledherknifefree.Thegustsknockedher sideways,whippeddust stormsofgrit and rubble lowacrosstheruins.‘Anyone?’sheshoutedtoTaavi.Heshookhishead.Minkaputahanduptoprotecthereyes.She’dfoughtfortheseruinsforoverahundreddays,andnowitseemedthatakindofvictoryhadcome,withtheironythatthecityitselfhadbeenflattened.

Taavi’sfootingwasuncertainashemadehiswaytowardsher.Hetookholdofherarmtosteadyhimself.Therewasmovementbeneaththem.Theykneltdownandstartedtopullthebricksback.Someone was in there. Minka could hear a voice. ‘It’s Rath!’ she said, andscrabbledtillherfingerswereraw.‘Taavi,it’sRath!’The two of themworked furiously. Rath cursed as they lifted the last rocksfromhischest.Hewasgreywithdust.Hewincedastheypulledhimup.Itwaslikehelping anoldman to stand. ‘Throne,’ he said again, and fell back.TheydrapedhisarmsovertheirshouldersandRathhungonthemlikeadyingman.Hestraightenedhislimbsslowly,groaningwitheachmovement.Theycarriedhimtothesideoftheriverandsethimdown.Minkafeltunderhisarm.Hewincedasshemovedherfingersalonghisribs.‘They’rebroken,’shesaid.Sheknewhowtobindhisarmtohisside,butshehadnothingtostrapitwith.Shehuntedaboutforascrapofcloth.Avastcolumnofblackwasrisinginthenorthernsky.Noneofthemknewwhatthisallmeant.‘Whatthehellhashappened?’Rathsaid.TaavilookedtoMinka.‘Idon’tknow,’shesaid.Rathsatup.Heblinkedasiftherewassomethingwrongwithhisvision.‘Whathappenedtotheriver?’Minkaturned.Thewaterwasrisingatanalarmingrate.‘Somethinghasblockedit,’Taavisaid.Withinafewminutes,theriveroverfloweditsbanks.Therisingwaterstartedtolapacrossthewharvestowardsthem,darkandthickwithsediment.MinkaandTaavi draggedRath a littlewayup thebankof rubble.They sat as thewatersrose,Rathwithhisarmboundtohisside,hisfacegreywithdustandpain.Aftershocks kept rippling across the ground.On the hills aboveKasrMyrak,fireswerestartingtogrow.Theywerethered,balefullightofmagmapushingitsway up through the crust ofCadia.Rivers of firewere starting to flow downtowardsthem.Theysatwaiting,buttherewerenoenemiestoshoot,noreinforcements.MinkatriedtofindherwaybacktoStatueSquareinthehopeoflocatingtheirvox,butitwasuseless.Hercitywasunrecognisable,theruinheapsunstable,andshecouldnottellwhereStatueSquarewas…orhadbeen.When she got back, Rathwaswhere she had left him, propped up against apieceofrockcrete.Taaviwasstandingoverhim.

Volcaniceruptionswerereachinghigherandhigherintothesky.Theycasttheonlylight.‘So,’Minkasaid.‘Whatnow?’‘Weholdthecityandawaitreinforcement.’Minka gestured towards the strange flatness that had once beenKasrMyrak.‘Whatcity?’Shewassitting,staringoutovertheruins,whenshethoughtsheheardlaughteronthewind.Itcameagain,fromadifferentdirection,thenagain,streakingacrossthesky.Itwasawild,insanesound.Minka lookedup into thedarkening sky.The temperaturebegan todrop, andTaavicaughtMinkaandpulledhertoherfeet.Laughtercamefromathousandvoices,allaroundthem.Minkafelttherubblebeneathhershift.Sheignoreditatfirst,butthenitmovedagain.Shestood.‘There’ssomeonemoving,’shesaid.Theylookeddownastherubbleshiftedagain.Someonewasclawingtheirwayup.Taavi andMinka pulled the stones away. They saw a hand, bloody and raw,reachingupforthem.‘Cadian!’Minkashoutedasshesawthecuff.Withinmomentstheyfoundanarm,ashoulder,aheadofdust-greyhair,andadustedfacewasstaringupatthem.ItwasOlivet.Hethrashedandkickedagainstthe weight holding him back. ‘It’s all right,’ she said as she pulled his arm.‘You’refree.’Olivetpulledather.Hepulledsohardhedraggedhertowardshim.Minkafellforward.Heembracedherandturnedhisfacetowardsher.Shethoughthewasgoingtokissheringratitude,butthentherewaspain,andhewasgrippinghersohardthatevenwhenshehadbothhandspressedagainsthimshecouldnotpushhimoff.Shecouldhear theshoutsofRathandTaavi,andshescreamedwhenshefeltOlivet’steethgrinddownonherearandtearit.Therewasbloodonherhand.He’drippedhalfherearoff.‘Calm down!’ she said, and Rath grunted with pain as he pulled her away.Olivetkeptthrashing,hisbodypinneddownatthelegs.Hewasnotkickingagainst theweightof therubble,but togetather,Minkarealised.Thesightwaschilling.‘Shoothim,’shesaid.Taavi strode forward. He lifted his lasrifle. ‘Stop, or I’ll shoot,’ he said as

Olivetthrashedabout,waist-deepinrubble.‘Justshoothim,’Rathshouted.‘InthenameoftheEmperor,’Taavisaid,thenfired.TheshothitOlivetinthehead.Butithadnoeffect.Hefiredagain,andagain,pumpingtheCadianwithlas-rounds.HalfofOlivet’sheadhadgonebythetimehefellback.‘Whatwaswrongwithhim?’Minkagasped.‘Hewasdrivenmadfrombeingburied,’Taavisaid.‘Hedidn’tknowwhathewasdoing.’Minka pulled her legs away. Yes, she thought. He was drivenmad. Throne,they’d all been through enough to be driven insane. Mad, was what they allagreed.Butthen,shefeltsomethingmovebeneathher.Anotherhandappearedayardtoherside.Thenanother,twentyfeetaway.‘Look!’HumpsofrubblewerestartingtorisefromtheruinsofKasrMyrak.AVolscanipulledhimselfup,dragginghisfootfree,andthencharged.Taavihithimwiththebuttofhisrifle.Therewasacrackasbonesshattered.TheblowslammedtheVolscani sideways, but he barely paused. He hit the ground and then pushedhimselfupandcameatthemoncemore.Taavifired.Thelas-boltshittheVolscaniinthethigh,chestandshoulderbeforehewentdown.ButthenanotherVolscanirose.Thentwo,thenfive.ACadian appeared, lopingover the ruins.Half his headwasmissing, but hestoodshakilyandturnedtowardsthem.‘Gunnel?’Minkacalled.The thing that was Gunnel snarled like a beast and started forward. A handcaughtMinka’sboot. Itsnails raked the leather, catching for amomenton theheavy steel buckle. She stamped down hard and felt the crunch of bone. Thefingerswere broken andmisshapen but they still clutched for her. ‘Rath!’ sheshouted.‘Wehavetogetoutofhere.’Rathwasfumblingwithhisknife.Minkapushedherknifebackintoitssheath.‘They’redead,’shesaid.‘They’realldead.’ShepulledRathupandtheyhalffelldowntheslopetowardstheriver.Taavicoveredthem.Anothertorsoburstoutfromtherubbleslopeinashowerofrockcreteanddust.‘Taavi!’Minkashouted.Shegrabbedapieceofwoodandswung.Itcrunchedintothething’sskullandknockeditfromitsfeet.Suddenlytheywereallshoutingandfiring.Rathfoundagunandtossedit to

Minka. She caught it and fired two shots into the back of the thing clawingupwards. In the corner of her eye, she saw something right itself and turntowardsher,lowandhunchedlikeananimal.ItmighthavebeenNaul.Shecouldn’t tell.He’ddiedawhileago.Hiscorpsewas swollen with death, rags of guts hanging through the torn uniform. Thestenchmadehereyeswater.Minka fired.Theputrid fleshburstaseach roundstruckit,likeapustulepopping.A living man would be dead three times over, but the cadaver kept comingtowardsher,mouthhangingopen,eyesrolledupintoitshead.‘Taavi!’ she shouted. Another Cadian, like the first, head bandaged andbloodied, the stump of one arm waving as it struggled to come towards her.Minka fired. The second blasted part of the thing’s skull, but it did not stop.Thentwomorefiguresappeared.Theyhadbeendeadformonths.Thefleshwasdark, bones showing through where the guts had rotted away, the hollows oftheireyesempty.Onewas a civilianwoman, and the other a child,weeping pox-marks on itsdust-greyface,darkeyesglitteringwithmalevolentintent.Minkafellback.Allshecouldhearwasherownpanickedbreathandthethunderofherheartbeatingloudlyasanothertwocadaversappearedbeforeher.Minka fired into eachof thematpoint-blank range, even though sheknew itwasuseless.Las-boltsburnedholesintotherottingflesh,butthecorpses’bodiesdidnotflinch.Herfootskiddedonrubbleandblood.Shesawtheflashofsteel.SheandRathwerebacktoback.‘Wehavetogetoutofhere,’shehissed.‘Taavi!’Rathshouted,butTaaviwasdownandunmoving.Rathcursedashedecapitatedoneofthedead,kickedanotheroverwiththeflatofhisboot,swungwildlyattheonewiththebandagedhead.Hisknifeopeneditupfromsternumtonavel.Therewasadullpopas theskinandmusclesof itsfront parted and the grey snakes of intestines flopped out.Amanwould havescreamed,butthisthingcameonregardless,itsbootedfeettramplingonitsowngreyandbloatedentrails.Itslowedforamoment,thentoppledforward,itslegshopelesslyentangled,andfellontoitsface.Minka was too terrified to scream. Rath had her by the shoulder and waspullingherback.‘Totheriver!’Rathhackedthroughthearmofone,tooktheheadoffanother,andheel-kickeda thirdoutof theway.Theyskiddeddownascreeslopeandhit thebottomasrockstumbleddownuponthem.Minka’sjacketcaughtonbarbedwire.Ittoreas

shepulleditfree.Asmoreundeadcrested the slopebehind them,one fell forwardandskiddedface-downafterthem,armsreachingoveritshead.Itwascarryinganauto-pistol.Rathbenttoripitfromthedeadhand.‘Here!’hesaid,andtossedittoMinka.‘Come!’hesaid,andtookMinka’shandandpulledherdowntowardstheriver.Thewaterwasfoulwithscumandoil.Theypulledeachotherintotheshallows.Theriverbankswerechokedwithflotsamthatlappedtheruinedbanks.Minkagrabbedapieceofwoodandthrewherselfonit,asRathcaughtafloatingdrop-canisterandheldontotheend.Thedeadsplasheddowntoreachthem,buttheykickedoutintothemiddleoftheriver.Rathwashavingdifficultykeepinghisheadabove thewater.The coolwatersoothedtheburnonMinka’spalm.Sheusedherbelt totiehimtothecanister,andthenlashedherselftoitaswellandputherhandbackintothewater.‘There,’shesaid,astheybobbedoutintothemiddleoftheriverandstartedtodriftdownstream.ThecurrentsweptthemaroundtheexposedwingofacrashedMarauder.Thewinghadcaughttrailersofbarbedwireandwood.Wherethecitywallcrossedtherivertherewasablacktunnel.Theywerecarriedswiftlytowardsitbytheflood.‘Look!’Rathsaid.Minkaturned.Behindthem,shamblingfigureswerethrowingthemselvesintothewater.‘They’refollowing,’shesaid,andlookedahead.Figureswerecomingdowntothewater before them.She saw a child standing on thewall above the tunnelentrance.Ithitthewaterwithasplash.Shecursedasshefeltahandgraspingatherfootandshekickedoutwildly.Sheclosedhereyesandprayedastheblackholeoftherivertunnelswallowedthem.

TWELVELORD-LIEUTENANTBERWICKE

Naval Subaltern Grannus had had little personal experience of the AstraMilitarum,butfromwhathehadheardfromotherNavalofficersintheamasecbars of Port Maw Cypra Mundi, the average Guardsman was only one rankabovetheferalworldsavages.On theeighteenthupperdeckof theClaymore-classcorvetteLord-LieutenantBerwicke, Grannus clipped his ceremonial carapace breastplate into place anddrewinadeepbreath.Beforethishadallstarted,he’dspentthelasttwentyyearstouringthewilderreachesoftheScarusSector,collectingtithesofmeatandfursandgrainfromferalworldswhoseunkemptpopulationsneededtobecowedintosubmissionwithashowofforceandceremony.Sixmonthsearlierhe’dbeenenjoyingamasecontheagriworldofBlackLake.They’dspentthreeweeksloadingtheirhullfullofgrox-slabandweresupposedtobemovingontothenextplanetofConnat’sGuard,butreceivedneworderstomakeallhastetotheCadianSystem.TheLord-LieutenantBerwickehadbarelybeguntodeliveritsloadofgrox-slabtotheplanetwhentheauguryscannersshowedasolidmassofcontactsreachingfrom Vigiliantum to Solar Macharius. Enemy hunters. The rumour had gonethroughtheships,andtheaironthebridgewastense.

There had been three days of urgent unloading before they’d been forced todisengage fromorbit andseekshelter in the solar flaresaroundProsan,abareandblastedrockclosetotheCadiansun.Thesolarradiationhadwreakedhavocwith their systems and threemachine-spirits had given up the battle, plunginglarge sections of the ship into darkness as themaintenance engines splutteredandfailed.ButthatfailurehadprobablysavedthemfromdetectionbythesleekBlack Legion Idolator-class raiders, whose precision targeting systems wereevenabletopinpointshipsthatwereshelteringclosertothesolarflares.Forthelastthreemonths,they’dbeenplayingadeadlygameofhideandseek.ThestressofbeinghuntedhadtakenitstollonalltheNavalcrews.They’dbeensurvivingonamixofstimmsandslab.Grannushimselfhadnotsleptwellforweeks.And then the Phalanx had arrived, and under cover of the vast warship,Imperial ships began to shelter. It was commonplace craft such as these thatanswered thecallwhen theevacuationofCadiacame.Third-rateofficers, likeGrannus,whofoundthemselvesinvolvedinadeadlymilitaryoperation.Therewas a knot in Naval SubalternGrannus’ shoulder. It had been gettingtighterallmorning.The last time he’d taken on Imperial Guardsmenwas fifteen years ago, andhe’dneverquiteforgottentheexperience.TheCatachanshadbrokeneveryruleinthebook.Theyhadlitfiresintheirhangar,killedseventeencanteenservitorsandbeatenSubalternReln andhis fire-suppressant teams towithin an inch oftheirlives.He adjusted his ceremonial cravat, lifted his shoulders to his ears, and thenrolledthemback.HerememberedtheconsternationtheGuardsmenhadcaused.Therewasatimewhenembarkedtroopswhokilledmembersofaship’screwwouldhavebeenquietlyventedintheouterreachesofaplanetarysystem,butthe intercession of a three-hundred-year-oldMordian general with an unusualsenseofhumourhadpersuadedtheircaptaintoimpose‘lock-down’instead.TheCatachanshadbeengivenbarerationsandwater,andthentheyhadbeensealedwithintheirhab-hangarsforthewholemonthofwarptravel.ItwasGrannuswhohaddrawntheshortstrawthattripandwassenttoseeifanywere still alive, to tell them to prepare for embarkation.He still bore thescarsofthatencounter,bothphysicalandmental,andtheyweighedonhimnowas he paused for a moment before the full-length mirror on the back of hispolishednalwooddoor,drewhimselfup tohis fullsixfoot threeand tiltedhishattoasevereanglethatexaggeratedhislong,hookednose.

Savages,heremindedhimself.Cowedbyasmartdressuniformandapolishedbreastplate.Headjustedtheangleofhistricornhat,liftedtheduellingswordoffitspegandchecked the strapsofhis father’sbrass-hiltedhot-shot laspistol.He flickedoffthesafetycatch,setthechargetofullandpuffedouthischeeks.Hewasready.

Grüber’sleftlegwasbandagedabovetheknee,butotherwisethehundred-and-eighty-year-old warrior was unharmed as he awaited the arrival of the ship’scaptainwithanhonourguardofmajors.Hesawthedoorstothecrew-liftgrindslowlyopenand took in themovementsof theshotgun-wieldingNaval ratingswithill-concealeddislike.He had not forgotten the indignity of his treatment on the lander. Hewouldnevergetovertheshameoflosinghisplanettotheenemy.AstheNavalofficerwalkedtowardshim,Grüberdrewhimselfuptohisfullsixfeet.HehadspentlongenoughonboardshipsofBattlefleetCadiatoknowthemanyranksthattheNavykept,andhowtheywereindicated,andhetookintheredtricornhat,thegold-workedduellingswordandtheepaulettesofthisofficer,and knew that the man was no captain. He did not wait for the customarygreetingfromtheNavalofficerbuttookapainfulstepforward.The Navy ratings lifted their shotguns. Grüber refused to be cowed. ‘I amGeneralGrüber,oftheCadianShockTroopers.Imustcomplainaboutthewaythat we have been treated!We have received neither food normedicine. Youmustrectifythisatonce!’Thesubaltern smiledapologetically. ‘GeneralGrüber.Myname isGrannus. Iamsubalternonthiscraft. Iapologise.Myonlyexcuseis that this isa timeofwar.’Hepausedandcollectedhimself.‘First,IshouldwelcomeyouaboardtheLord-Lieutenant Berwicke.But Imust remind you that our ship has not beenused as a troop transport for over fifteenyears.Wedonot have the rations tofeedyouall.’Grüber tookanother step forward. ‘Ihave thousandsofwoundedandhungrymen.Heroes,eachandeveryoneofthem.’Grannus flustered for amoment,bearinghimselfup. ‘I repeat, general.Whatyou ask is impossible. We are doing the best we can. I repeat, the Lord-Lieutenant Berwicke was not provisioned for troop transport. We are makingarrangementsnowtohaveyoumovedtoanothership.’Grübersteppedforward.‘Whyhasyourcaptainnotcometogreetus?’

Grannusfumbledclumsilyforananswer.Grübercuthimshort.‘Idemandthatyou allowme up to the bridge. I have tomake contactwith the forces of theImperium that have escaped from Cadia. It is imperative that someone takescommand.Isthatunderstood?’Anyonewho had lived as long as General Grüber knew how to blend rank,gesture and threat into one heady mixture. Grannus had spent too longintimidating feral-world savages. There was nothing about him that Grüberfoundanythingbutcomical.Fiveminutes later, thebridgedoorsof theLord-LieutenantBerwickeopened,andGrüberenteredwiththirtyofhisCadians.

OnthebridgeoftheLord-LieutenantBerwicketherewasahush.Alleyeswereonthegreensweepoftheauguryscanners.TheblipsofthePhalanx flashedbrightest,andaboutit thesmallpinpricksofBattlefleetCadiaand theevacuation fleet.But itwas theemptyspacesaroundthemthateveryonewasconcentratingon.TheyallknewthattheBlackFleetwasout there. None of them doubted that the enemy ships would make anotherattemptonthefleet–themassivegunsofthePhalanxwoulddetertheenemy–but the lureofbaitwouldprove toostrong.Noteven thePhalanxwouldkeepthemoff.Theauguryflaredgreenasitsweptroundwithalowbeepateachcircuit.Captain Zabuzkho was concentrating so hard he had quite forgotten aboutSubalternGrannus.Whenthebridgedoorsopenedhelookedup,hisexpressionturningtosurpriseashesawanImperialGuardsmanenter.Themanshoulderedpasttheastonishedratingsandcame toahalt just inches from theship’scaptain.ZabuzkhocouldnotrememberthelasttimeaGuardsmanhadstoodonhisbridge.Theimagewasstrangelyincongruous.Itwastypicalofthesetimes.Thingswerefallingapart.‘Whatisthis?’Zabuzkhodemanded.‘Grannus,whatishappening?’‘Captain,’theGuardsmansaid,addressinghimdirectly.Zabuzkhotookintheotherman’sbearing.Hewastall,fit,lean.‘IamGeneralGrüber,’ the man said, and put out a hand. He had clearly been throughrejuvenate treatment, perhaps thirty or more Terran years ago. His skin wasslackening, and the pinched scars gave his mouth a slight sneer, but nothingcouldtakeawayfromhisgrimblackeyes.‘IamGeneralGrüber,CadianHighCommand.Iamcommandeeringthisship.’Zabuzkhostiffened.‘Ibegyourpardon,sir.’Heturnedtofacethemanbefore

him.Thedaishewasstandingongavehimagoodfiveinchesontheotherman.‘Youare stillwithin theCadianSector.This isa stateofwar.Asa survivingmember of Cadian High Command I am taking over control of your ship,’Grüber said. ‘I shall return command to you when I am done. But in themeantime,youwillobeyme.Isthatunderstood?’CaptainZabuzkhodidnotanswer.HetookinthethirtyCadianShockTrooperswhohadfollowedGrüberoutofthelift,andhegaveGrannusawitheringlook.Atlast,hesaid,‘Myshipisyours,sir.’‘Good,’Grübersaid.‘Mymenneedfeeding.Pleasearrangewhateverfoodyouhavetobedistributedamongthem.Andbringthevoxofficer.WeneedtofindtheLordCastellan.’

AstaircasewounddownfromthebridgetothecommunicationchamberoftheLord-Lieutenant Berwicke. The vox servitors on the Berwickewere a trio ofmind-slaved torsos, set into a seat ofwireswith tubes running from their eyesocketsandmouths,theirservo-handsleavingascrawlofminusculeGothiconthepinkvoxsheets.‘Grannus,’thecaptainsaid,andthesubalternescortedGrüberandhiscommandstaff down.They took in thewires, the servitors and the long sheets ofNavalcommunications that fell in folds to the floor. Lalinc, one of Grüber’s aides,lifted the vox feed and scrolled through it. It listedNaval engagements, shipslost,pageuponpageofBattlefleetScaruscommunications.Ontheplanet,he’dheardlittleoftheNavalbattles,butnowhetookinthelistof lostandmissingshipsofBattlefleetCadia, thescaleof the fightingseemedoverwhelming.‘AnymentionofCreed?’Lalincstirredhimself.‘No,sir.’Ithadbeena long timesinceGrüberhadbeensohands-on.He lookedat thecrudecommunicationarray.‘Howdoweworkthesethings…Grannus!’Thesubalternsteppedforward.‘Letmeknowwhatyouwant,sir.’Grüber looked at the servitors. They were almost skeletal, and they had amouldyscent.‘Iwantamessagesentout.IneedtofindCreed.’Grannushad theorders relayed to theother ships in the fleet.Answers cameback over the next four hours. Each ship’s captain had their own peculiarmanner.Someofthemofferedcondolencesinformulaicphrases,congratulatedGrüberonthecourageofhiswarriorsor–fromthebattleships–sentoffersto

haveGrübertransferredtotheircraft.But as toGrüber’s question, each of them replied in the negative. They hadinterrogatedthesoldiersintheircare,askedforrumoursofCreed’spresence.NoonehadseentheLordCastellan.Asfarasanyoneknew,UrsarkarE.Creedhadnotescapedtheplanet.For years before thismoment,Grüber had been just the sort of old guard tohave opposed Creed’s rise. Creed had snubbed him a number of times, andGrüberhadcomplainedmanytimestoWarmasterRyseabouthim.But now, as Lalinc read out each message starting with a negative, Grüberfound his spirits flagging. He did not want command. He had been part ofdefeated armygroups before and knewwhatwas required.The troops neededrousing.Theyneeded theirbrokenspirits restored.Thescaleof thedefeatwassuchthatitneededamastertoreforgetheCadianspirit.Grüber knew that he was not up to the task. If ever there was a need for amaverick like Creed, it was now. It was typical of Creed, he thought, todisappearatamomentlikethis.He turned his back and felt all the eyes of his men upon him. Servitorsscratchedontheslow-ravellingmessagescrolls.Grüberclosedhiseyes. ‘Well,untilhecanbetraced–oruntilanothermemberofCadianHighCommandcanbefound–relaythemessagethatIshalltakecommandoftheforcesofCadia.’

Theevacuation fleetwas scoured forall the surviving staffofficersofCadia’sHigh Command. On the Lord-Lieutenant Berwicke, Grüber gathered officersfrom seventeen different regiments, different uniforms, wounded, dirty,bandaged. Tenders shuttled back and forth as Grüber set up the CadianCommand-in-exile. Surviving generals, adjutants and orderlies shuttled to thebaysoftheLord-LieutenantBerwicke.‘Bringthemthroughthefoodhangars,’Grübersaid.‘Letthemseehowlowwehavesunk.Letthemseethecostofourpride.’Theofficerswereallgratefultobegivenatask,apurpose.Buttherewerenoofficers from the Cadian 8th, ‘Lord Castellan’s Own’. Their absence wasnoticeable.Theirfirsttaskwastocollectdata.Tofindoutwhichunitshadbeensalvaged,what was their number, what equipment they had managed to carry off theplanet.Thecommunicationarraystartedtooverheatwiththerateofdispatchesandreports thatwerecoming in.Thescentofcookingfleshfilled theroomasthe vox servitors’ plug sockets started to steam. If they felt pain, they did not

showit.Hour by hour General Grüber established command structures over theCadians. It was like taking rags and stitching them back into a recognisablegarment.‘This isGeneralGrüber,’hebroadcast to theother shipsofBattlefleetCadia,‘ofCadianHighCommand.IamseekingLordCastellanCreed.’Overandovertheresponsecameback.‘Notonthisship.’‘Havetheycheckedthewounded?’Grüberasked,andagaintheresponsecameback.‘Yes,sir.’‘Anything?’‘Negative,sir.’Thefinalsightingsagreed.CreedwaslastseenfightingontheElysionFields.The8thwerewithhim.Noneoftheevacueesknewwhathadhappenedtohim.Itwasafact that theywouldhave toaccept.Creedhadbeen lostwithCadia.Thecaptainhadgonedownwithhisship.Theywouldhavetocontinuethefightwithouthim.

All the time the fleet was being set upon by Black Fleet fighters. Ships andinterplanetary landersgathered together.Theywere likea flockofsheepwhenthewolveswere howling. For two days therewere hit-and-run attacks on anyvesselthatfelltoofarbehind.Cadianswhohadsurvivedthefalloftheirplanetwere lost as their craft were ripped apart by Black Legion broadsides.Throughoutthefleettherewasanatmosphereoftensefear.Andthentheattacksended.Theywere still days from the closest viableMandeville Point, but theBlackFleethadpulledback.Nooneknewwheretheyhadgone,orwhen,or if, theywouldreturn.Relations between the Navy and Astra Militarum commanders had becometense. Grüber had a vox-link raised to the Admiral d’Armitage of BattlefleetCadia.‘Admiral,anytraceoftheenemy?’Grüberdemanded.‘None,sir.’‘Iknowourfoe.Theywillbeback.Haveyourcrewsstandattheready.Isthatunderstood?’Therewasa long, icysilencebefore theadmiralspoke.‘Iknowmybusiness,GeneralGrüber.’‘Iamsureyoudo,’Grübertoldhim.‘AndIknowmine.’

‘Thendonotlectureme.’Grüberpaused for amoment to collect himself. ‘Admiral.Weboth faced theBlackLegion.Youinspace,mymenontheground.IwouldlikeyoutonotethatthesoldiersoftheCadianShockTroopsareundefeated.Afterahundreddaysoffighting,wewerefinallywinningthebattleonCadia.Yourfleet,however,failedtodefendtheskies.’‘Ahundreddays.Andwhokeptyour troopsalive?Whokept themsupplied?Whoevacuatedyourtroopsfromtheplanet,atmuchrisktothemselves?’‘Your fleet, admiral. The service of the Imperial Navy has been exemplary.Acceptmyapologies.Butpleasedomakesurethatthefleetstandsready.’‘Ishall.’Grüberdidnotargueanyfurther;hehadmadehispoint.Buttheadmiralclearlyhadsomethingelsetodiscuss.‘AnynewsoftheLordCastellan?’‘None,’Grübersaid.‘Does that mean you are the sole surviving member of Cadian HighCommand?’‘Iamthemostseniorofficer,yes.’‘Then I would like to invite you to relocate aboard my flagship, theGrandAlliance,’d’Armitagesaid.‘Thankyou,admiral.Istherespaceuponyourshipformysoldiers?’‘Howmanydoyouhave?’‘There’sfortythousandupontheLord-LieutenantBerwicke.’‘General,myshipisabeastofwar, it isnotatransport.I’mafraidthatmanytroopswouldaffecttheperformanceofmycrew.IregrettosaythatIcouldnottakesomanyonboardunlessdirestneedcompelledme.’Grübernodded.‘ThenIthankyou.ButIcannotaccept.ItwasonthiscraftthatI found shelter, and Iwill not leave them. If theLord-Lieutenant Berwicke isgoodenoughforthem,thenitisgoodenoughforme.’

Grüber’spresenceontheshipmeantthatitwasdeemednecessaryfortheLord-LieutenantBerwicketobeshepherdedtothemiddleoftheImperialFleet.Itwasa small, ungainly shape amongst the lean silhouettes of battlecruisers andescorts.DayandnightGrüberworkedwiththepassionofaconvert.Despitehisblusterwiththeadmiral,heknewthathehadfailedCadia.Allthehighcommandhad.Creedhad told them that aBlackCrusadewas in theoffingyearsbefore, andmen like Grüber had wasted that time in pompous and self-congratulatory

banquets, where they toasted their own achievements andmocked the upstartworrywart,whosawnothingbeforethembutdoomanddarkness.‘Youshouldrest,sir,’Lalinctoldhim,butGrüberrefused.Lalincpointed.‘Sir.Look.Yourleg.’Grüber lookeddown.Fresh red stainshad leaked through thedressingonhisleg.Hehadforgotten,andnowhewastoobusytostop.‘Fetchthemedicae.Hemustbequick.Thereissomuchtodo.’

Themedicaewas an oldmanwith soft handswho cleaned thewound.As hepulled a fresh, clean bandage from his sack, Grüber paused and the medicaelookeddown. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I have requisitioned the ship’smedical supplies.Cleandressings.’ItwasawonderthatonlysomeonewhohadbeenonCadiaallthistimewouldappreciate.Grüberdrewinadeepbreathandfeltawaveofemotionrisewithinhim.Heputhishandtothemedicae’sshoulder.‘Wefoughthard,’hesaid.‘Didn’twe?’‘Yes,sir.Wefoughtbeyondthelastcleanbandage.’ThemedicaeputhishandontopofGrüber’sown.‘Wewon,’theoldmansaid,hissofthandswarmonthegeneral’s own. ‘We defended Cadia.We drove the enemy back.We won thebattle.’

General Bendikt was among the officers summoned to the Lord-LieutenantBerwicke.He stood in the lift as it brought himup from the slab-freezers.HewasalittleapprehensiveashewaitedtobeshownthroughtoGrüber’scommandpost.The loss ofCadiameant a strangenew reality had comeuponhisworld.Hedrewinadeepbreath,puthisshouldersbackandstretchedout theacheinhisneck.Therewasanoddsmell,hethought,likecookingslab.Anaidesteppedintotheroom.Heworewintercamo.Itwasnotunusualtoseemendressed inallkindsofuniform.Thesoldierswerewearingwhatever theyhadbeenevacuatedin.‘GeneralGrüberwillseeyounow,’hesaid,andsaluted.

Bendikttookthestepsdownintothecommunicationchamber.Therewerethreeservitors,theirstylusesgentlyscratchingasthemessagescrollswoundontothefloor.Grüberhadoneofthescrollsinhishand.HelookedupasBendiktentered,letthepaperfallinfoldstothefloor.Heheldoutahand.‘GeneralBendikt,’hesaid.‘Iamgladyoucouldjoinmehere.’

Bendiktlookedabout.‘ItisalongwayfromtheFidelitasVector.’Grübergavehimalonglook.‘Youareright.Itis.IwonderwhathappenedtoWarmasterRyse?’‘Idonotknow.’‘No.’ Therewas a gentle ping as anothermessage came in. Grüber read thescrollforamomentandthenlookedup.‘GeneralBendikt.IhearyousawCreedinthelastdaysofCadia.Canyoutellmeanythingofthat?’‘Idid,’Bendiktsaid.‘HecameinasingleValkyrietoabunker.ItwasnamedSalvation9983.’‘Ah.WereyoupartoftheSalvation?Doyouknowwherehewent?’Bendiktshookhishead.‘Noidea,I’mafraid.Hesaidhehadmanyplacestogo.Something like that.Wewere standing on the edge of amountain.A parapet,three thousandyardshigh. Itwasblowingagale at the time. Itwas clear thatsomethingwasafoot.’Bendiktpaused.‘IheardthathewaslastseenfightingontheElysionFields.Heorderedmytroopsthere.Wewerewithintenmilesofhispositionwhen theevacuationordercame. Itgotverymessy. Iassumedhehadgotofftheplanet.’‘Thank you,’ Grüber said. He seemed distracted, and then drew himself up.‘Youraccountsupportsothers.ItappearsthatCreedwaslostonElysionFields.’Therewasalongsilenceastheyassessedtheweightofthatstatement.‘CanIbeofhelp,sir?’‘Yes.Weneednewcommandstructures.Decimatedunitsmustbebroughtuptostrength. I want army commands, divisions, battalions. I want a functioningarmybythetime…’Hepaused,andthequestionhungintheair.‘Well,whereverweendup.’Bendiktputvoicetothequestionmanyofthemhadbeenthinking.‘Wheredowego?’Grüber swallowed. There was only one place they could go. The place thatwould need defending, once the Cadian Gate had fallen. ‘There is only oneplace.HolyTerra.’

THIRTEENMYRAKRIVER

TheforcesthathadheldtheImmateriumatbayburstlikearottingcarcass.Red,weeping wounds ripped across the sky, and through the tear in the fabric ofsanity, warp beasts feasted on the millions of cultists the Black Legion hadbroughttoCadia.In their crazed minds the heretics lifted their arms to the daemons as ifwelcomingsalvation,andthewarpbeastsfellonthemlikerabidhounds,tearingfleshandboneinanorgyofkillingandcruelty,andsuckingouttheirscreamingsoulsasahoundsucksoutthemarrow.Inthishell,MinkaandRathstruggledalong.Theyhadlefttherivertwomilesbehind,draggedthemselvesupfromtheruinedbanks,theirroutedrivenbythesafest-lookingonebeforethem.Daemonhoundswerebayingbehind themandRathwas flagging, supportinghisweightonMinka’sshoulderashelimpedalong.Sherefusedtogiveupyet.‘Justalittlefurther,’shesaid,thoughitwasn’tclearthattherewasanywhereforthemtoheadto.‘Keepmoving.’‘We’redone,’Rathsaid.‘Stop.Letusdiehere.’‘No,’shetoldhim.‘Justalittlefurther.’Daemonhoundswerebayingaroundthem.Ifthebeastscaughttheirscentthen

theirendwouldbeswift.Minkadraggedhimforward.Shewasheadingshedidnotknowwhere.Shejustknewthatshecouldnotstop,butatlastRathsaid,‘Icannot.’Hisfacewaspalewithpain.Hewincedasheputakneetotheground,likeamangivingfeudalhomagetohislord,butMinkagrabbedhimbyhisshouldersandtriedtohaulhimup.Therewasathunderclapintheskyabovethem.Theredlightwasbrightenoughtocastshadowsontheearth,andthentherewereexcitedhowls. The hounds had caught their trail. She could hear their bloodthirstybaying.Itwasahorrificsound,likethescreamofamillioninsanevoices.Rathwasnotmoving.Sheshookhimbyhisshoulders.Shedidnotcareifshehurthim.‘Getup,damnyou!’Hegroanedandshespunaround,lookingforsomewheretoheadtowards.Shecould not give up. Her training kicked in. Find a defensible location. Keepfighting.‘Look!’shehissed.‘Seethat!’Rathlookedup.Throughtheashclouds,therewasawhiteshape,abouthalfamilebeforethem.Itwashardtryingtoseeintheruddylight.‘Itlookslikealander,’shesaid.They staggered forward. The hounds were all about them now, baying andlaughing. ‘It’s crashed,’ he said as theydrewcloser, but as they approached itMinkacouldseethathewaswrong.Itwasaplanetarylander.Thelandinggearsweredown,andtherewerelightsinside the cabin. ‘Come on!’ she hissed, feeling almost giddy. ‘Maybe we’regoingtomakeitoffthisplanetafterall.’

Itwashardtoappreciatethesizeofthecraftuntiltheygotclose.It was much bigger than Minka had thought. The ramps were closed, theengines dead, but the cockpit lights shone out. Itwas so big they couldwalkunderneaththethingwithoutbendingover,andtherewasnowayup.EvenifshestoodonRath’sshoulders,shedidnotthinkshecouldreachtheaccessladders.Minkastaredupatthething,putherhandstohermouthandshouted,‘Hey!’Thehoundsweregettingcloser.She tried climbing up the landing gear, but there was no access. She stoodundertheladderandjumped,butfellback,notevencomingclosetocatchingit.Shejumpedagainbutfellevenshorterthistime.Theyweresoclose.Buttherewasnowayaboard.

Rath’svoicewaslowandwarning.‘They’recoming,’hesaid.Minka turned. In the darkness, glowing red hounds were bounding towardsthem. The howls seemed to ring out all around them. Minka only had theautopistolshehadsalvagedfromKasrMyrak.ShepulledRathnexttoher,theirbackstothelandinggear.Ifthiswasit,she,likeCadia,wasgoingtogodownfighting.

TheLord-LieutenantBerwicke

When he was told the destination was Holy Terra, Admiral d’Armitagecommunicatedhisconcerns.‘LordGeneral,Idonotknowifwecanmakeanytranslationatall.Thewarpisintumult.’‘Well,itisdeathtostayhere.’‘You’reright.’‘So.Whataretheotheroptions?’D’Armitagepaused.‘Wecouldsailoutintodeepspace.Powerdown.WaitfortheBlackFleettopasson.Warpstormspass.’Grüberlistenedtotheadmiral’splan.Itwasanoptioniftimewasnotapriority.Attheend,Grübersaid,‘Thatisnotaroutethatisopentous,admiral.Youhaveten million of the Imperium’s finest fighters stowed away in the hulls ofBattlefleetCadia.Theyneedtobeused.Tobeputintothewar.Totakerevenge.’D’Armitage was silent. It was Grüber who spoke again. ‘Who is the bestNavigatorinyourfleet?’D’Armitagepaused.‘HyppolytusFremm.’‘Good.Sendhimtome.Wewillfindaway,LordAdmiral.Ipromiseyouthat.’

HyppolytusFremmwas locked away in his chambers, but his twinnedpair ofratlingattendantshadbeenfrettingabouttheempty,sterilechamberforhours.Grüber found it hard to tell whether they were genetic twins or had beenthrough intensive augmentation. The similarity of theirmovementsmade himthink theywere blood kin, but they had a disconcerting habit ofmoving andspeaking in synchronisation.They seemed almost reflections of each other, asthey stood in embroidered jackets of black velvet.After an interminablewait,therewasalowchimeandthetworatlingsbenttheirheadstowardseachotherandbegantospeakinlow,hushedvoices.‘Isanythingwrong?’Grüberdemanded.They turned to face him, their movements synchronised, like man andreflection. They spoke together. ‘The ways of the warp are tumultuous,’ they

said.Grübernodded.According to d’Armitage, Hyppolytus Fremm was the finest survivingNavigator in the Battlefleet Cadian system. He had come aboard the Lord-Lieutenant Berwicke that morning, and had been sequestered in the astralchamberfornearlyaTerranday.‘IfthereisawaytoTerra,thenhewillfindit,’theratlingssaid,butitseemedfromthedelaythattheirmasterhadnotyetfoundaroute.Grüber nodded.He couldn’t tell if the abhumansweremale or female.Theyhadastrangelyandrogynouslooktothem.Hefoundhisgazelingeringontheirfingers,notnarrowandthin,astheirheightmightimply,butthickandstumpy.Despiteallthestrangenessaboutthem,theratlingswerehumans.Allofthem–ogryn,Navigator,ratling–theabhumanswouldsharethesamefateastherestoftheImperiumofMan.GeneralGrüber paced up and downoutside, his staff in attendance.The tworatlings continued to speak to each other in hushed voices.At last, therewasanotherchime,andthenabellranghighupinthechamber,andthetworatlingshurriedtothesealeddoorway.Something, it seemed,was about to happen.Grüber turned anddrewhimselfupright,shouldersback,chestpuffed.Therewasalongpausebeforethesealeddoorsopened,andGrüberhadabriefglimpseofashadowedstaircase,reachingupwardstoadarkchamber.Down the broad steps a figure descended, slowly and unsteadily, his weightresting on his cane. The ratlings waited by the doorway, with an eager andexpectantlooktothem,likeapairofhuntingdogs.When Hyppolytus Fremm stepped out of the observatory on the Lord-LieutenantBerwicke,asilkscarfwastiedabouthisforehead,coveringhisthirdeye. The strain of his searchwas clear to see.His facewas drawnwith deeplines.Hiseyeswerered,andpurplebagsweighedheavilyonhischeeks.Hewasleaningonawalkingstickmadefromtheexoticlongnose-hornoftheOpheliannarwhale,chasedwithgoldandjewels.The ratling attendants hurried to help Hyppolytus stand. He turned towardsGrüber, tookinadeepbreathandwaswrackedbycoughs.Grüber’sfacedrewpale anddrawnashewaited.Ashedidoneof theNavigator’s legs started togiveway,andtheratlingslookedtothegeneral,asifforpermission.‘Yes,’Grübersaid.‘Pleasesit.’Acarvedwoodenstoolwasbroughtfromthecornerof theroom.Oneratling

set itdownwithbothhands,while theotherhelped theNavigatorsit.Abottlewasbrought,andtheNavigatortookalongsipofthick,darksyrup.‘So,’Grübersaid.‘Whatnews?Howlonguntilwecanmakethetranslation?’TheNavigator’s shoulders sagged for amoment. ‘GeneralGrüber, the fall ofCadia has set off a tsunami through the Immaterium. I have never seen suchtumult.TomakethetranslationtoHolyTerrawouldbedeath.Thewarpstormsthere are terrible. I have never seen such…’He paused, and then said,with adeliberatelook,‘chaos.’GeneralGrüberstiffened.‘Therehastobeaway.’TheNavigatorputhishandontheshoulderofoneoftheratlings.‘Icannotseeone.’Grübersnapped.‘DoIneedanotherNavigator?’‘Theywilltellyouthesame.Ortheywillfail.’Therewas silence as Grüber paced up and down, punching one fist into hisotherpalm.Aftera longpause,hestartedagain. ‘LordNavigatorFremm. It isdeathtostay.IftheBlackFleetdoesnotkillus, thenthecreaturesofthewarpwill.’He paused to collect his thoughts. ‘I havemillions of fightingmen thatmustreachTerra.Theymustgettherebeforetheenemydoes.ThefutureoftheImperiumofMandependsonthis.WehavetoreachTerra.’The Navigator nodded. His sunken eyes were shot with blood. He appearedgenuinelysorry,thebagsunderhiseyesheavywithfluid.‘Imustrest,GeneralGrüber.Ipromiseyouthis.Iwilllookagain.ButIhavetowarnyouthatIdonothold out much hope. The Immaterium is breaking. There are warp creaturesfollowingus.Ihaveseenthem.Theyarebutpalereflectionsofwhatawaitsusinthewarp.WhileaGellerfieldmightholdthemoff,Idonotknowhowlongitwouldlastunderasustainedattack.’

FOURTEENPAXIMPERIALIS

CaptainBergerbanked,turninghisFuryvoidfightersunwards.Itwasastandardpatrol,sixfightersofsquadronzetadoingasunwardssweep.The blue plasma of the engines of the evacuation fleet powering out of thesystemdriftedthroughhisviewportashisfighterturned.Farbeyondthem,thegoldenlightofthePhalanxshoneout,likeadistantmoon.SquadronzetakeptbankingsunwardstilltheCadiansunfilledtheirvision.Thestarwasnowadullglowinamiasmaofred,likeabloodshoteye.Bergeraccelerated, sixty thousandpounds of thrust pinninghis hands to the controls,thepressureofhisvoid suit responding, theconstantpulseof theblood-pumpflushinghissystemthroughwithoxygen-richbloodstartingtostrainagainsttheeffort.Ashepulledoutoftheturnhefeltthepressurelessening.‘Armingweapons,’ his gunnery officer, Bettan, reported. She sat in the noseturret,beneathhisfeet.They’dbeeninthesamecrewforsixyears.Shewasoneofthebestgunnershe’dflownwith.Small,efficient,calmunderpressure–andwhentherewasnopressure,shelikedtojoke.Itmadehergoodcompany.Helpedthelonghoursofpatroltickby.TherewasabriefpauseasBettanpoweredupthebatterybanksforthecraft’simpressive linked array of fixed-wing and turret Cypra Mundi-pattern

lascannons.PowerruneslitupinsideBerger’shelmetarrayasthesystemswentlive.SheevenengagedthepairofStalkeranti-Starfightermissilesandfiredoffabriefsalvoofredlas-boltstodouble-checkthetargetingmatrixes.‘Allweaponsystemsarmedandready.’‘Nottakinganychances?’‘Nope,’Bettansaid.Shesoundedcheerful.Howlong,hewondered,tillshetoldherfirstjoke.

The last time they’dhadcontactwasaweekearlier,at theheightof thebattleover Cadia. Their flagship, the Emperor-class battleship Pax Imperialis, hadfollowedthePhalanxonitsreliefmissiontoCadia.TheplanetwasringedwithBlack Fleet craft, like a corpse covered with the black carapaces of carrionbeetles–so thickthat theplanetcouldbarelybeseen.Whatcould theydo,hehadwondered,againstsuchweightofnumbersandhatred?There had been twentyFuries in their squadron that day, on escort duty to asimilar number of Starhawk bombers. While the Phalanx went after theBlackstone,Navy captains picked their own targets, and the crews of thePaxImperialishadapersonalvendettawiththeExorcist-classgrandcruiserformerlynamedKingmaker.The Kingmaker had a proud eight-thousand-year history of service withBattlefleetScarus,buthadgonemissingonpatrolaroundAgripinaafiveyearsearlier. It had been presumed lost until a year ago, when a ship matching itsdescription had been spotted as part of a Black Fleet force that wiped out aconvoybetweenCadiaandBelisCorona.ThePaxImperialis had been sent to hunt it down and destroy it, and after atwo-month pursuit, they’d brought the ancient craft to ground around theasteroidbeltsoftheCrinanSystem.On paper, there was no match. An Emperor-class battleship outmatched theExorcistinallrespects.Shewasbigger,faster,out-rangedtheenemy,andcarriedtwiceasmanyvoidcraft.Butthegrandcruiserhadbeenchanged.TheExorcistwas no longer just a vessel. It was a thing alive, and after a brief andinconclusivefirefight, thecaptainofthePaxImperialis,Vice-AdmiralChanke,hadbroughtherinclose,sothathisflightsofbomberscoulddeliverthecoupdegrâce.ItwasonlyastheyreachedvisualrangethatthetrueextentofthechangestotheKingmaker was apparent. Her metal skin was bulged and pock-marked.Along her underbelly a row of red tentacles searched, like the arms of an

anemone.Thechillofheresyhadsobered themallandprayerswerebroadcastoverthevox-systems.ThefirstwaveofbomberswashalfwaytothecraftwhentheaugurieshadsuddenlylitupassixotherChaoscruiserspoweredup.ThePaxImperialishadbeenhopelesslyoutofpositionandsurrounded.Allshecoulddowasdisengageandmakefor thenearestpossibleMandevillePoint. Ithadbeenatoughdecisionthatinvolvedabandoningthecrewsoftheentirefirstwavetotheirfate.Void-deathwassomethingtheyallfeared.Berger,Bettan,allofthemhadfriendsinthatfirstwave.So,whenthey’dmetagain in the space above Cadia, that attack had been personal. Berger hadvolunteeredtobeinthefirstwave.AlmostallthePaxImperialis’crewhad.Thedestructionofthatturncoatwaspersonal.TheyweredeterminedtofinishthejobtheyhadstartedintheasteroidfieldsofCrinan.Ithadbeenafuriousdogfight,punctuatedbytheexultantshoutsofthebombercrewsastheydeliveredtheirtorpedoesatcloserange,thetenseconversationsoffighterpilotsandthedeathscreamsastheywerepickedoff.Berger’screwhadtakenoutsixoftheenemycraft,butthebombingrunhadprovedunsuccessful:theKingmakerhadretreated, limpingandburning, into thesafetyof theBlackFleet, and again, it seemed that theprideof thePaxImperialis hadbeen theirundoing,asthevastruinsoftheBlackstonehaddriftedtowardsCadia.All thisplayed throughBerger’smindashebroughthis fighter round, lettingthemonotonevoicesoftheengineandgunservitors,intoningtheirmind-slavedprocedures,washoverhim.WhentheywerefarenoughawayfromthePaxImperialishedivertedpowertothe scanning systems, and he could hear the tap-tap-tap as the course-planner,Federi,startedtokeyinthescanningprotocols.‘Sweepcoordinatesset,’Federireported,andthen,‘Auguryonfullpower.’Berger felt thepressureofhissuit lessenas theFurystraightenedup.Behindhimhissquadronfannedoutincloseformation,eachcraftamileapart.Onebyonesquadronpilotsreportedin.Everyminutetherewasableepasthescannercompleteditsfullscanofthespacearoundthem.TheBlackFleetwasoutthere,somewhere.Itcouldn’tbelonguntiltheyshowedthemselves.Ofthat,Bergerwassure.The scout patrols ran elliptical flights around the evacuation fleet. It was aconstant rotation.Berger’s crewwere sleeping for sixhours then flying again.Behind them there was a wall of swirling red clouds, and from that, tendrilsreachingtowardsthem.EachtimeBergerwentoutitseemedthefingersofthe

warpweredrawingcloser.On the third scouting flight, Berger ordered his squadron to fly within ahundredmilesoftheforemostwarp-cloud.ThedullredlightofCadia’ssungavea ruddy sheen to apairofoldwreckedGothic-class cruisers, floating in agascloudoftheirownventedatmospheres.There was a blip. Federi’s voice was controlled but urgent. ‘Contacts.Sunwards,bearings889-384.’Bergerconveyedthedirectionstotherestofhissquadron.HevoxedbacktothePaxImperialis.‘Contacts.Squadronzetagoingtoinvestigate.’Hepoweredforward,lookingforvisuals.‘Ready,Bettan?’She ran a check on theweapon systems. ‘Ready to burn.’ Therewas a longpause.Space couldbe so empty,Berger thought ashe scannedbackand forththroughhisviewport.‘IthinkIfeelsick,’Bettansaid.Bergerhadfeltthesame.‘Don’tlookintotheclouds,’Bergertoldher.‘I’mtryingnotto,’Bettansaid.‘Federi.Anything?’‘Therewas,’ he said. ‘The scanners have lost the contact.’ Therewas a longmoment of silence, then Federi corrected himself. ‘Wait. I think there’ssomething.Canyougetcloser?’Berger turned the craft sunwards oncemore, getting as close to the growingwarpstormashecould.‘Gotavisual?’Berger stared forward. All he could hear was the swish of the blood-pumpfloodingoxygen-richfluidthroughtheirsystems.‘Nothing,’hesaid.Then,‘There’salight.’Bettanflippedhersystemstolive.‘Engagingweapons.’‘It’ssmall,’Federisaid.‘Couldbeatenderoralightcruiser.Mightbeoneofours.’Berger saw the yellow light and brought the Fury in at speed, skimmingthrough the red light-clouds of the warp. ‘Contact,’ he said, and then swore.What he sawwas not a tender or a light cruiser, but aman, impossibly large,standinginthewarp.Themanwasreachingouttowardshim.Hehadabeardofsnakesthatmeltedintoflames.Bergerblinked.Themanhadgone.‘Whatthefrekk?’hehissed,asthetargetingmatrixesfixeduponaswirlingcloudofpurpleeels.Bettanwasfiringwildlyatsomething.Federiwasgroaning.‘Getusoutofhere,’hehissedthroughclenchedteeth.

Bergerdidnotknowwhichwaywasback.Hebankedsharplyandtriedtoturn.Somethinghithisviewport.Itwaslikeflyingthroughaflockofavians,buttheseweremoreslug-like,and theysplatteredagainst theglass, leavingan imageofsnappingjaws.Bergerfelthisfingersstretch.Helookeddown,andhisfingerswerenowvines,reachingintothefighter.Thebloodpumpwassloshinggreenfluidthroughhissystem. Suddenly the cockpit was full of lashing tendrils. He and Bettan andFederiwerenowoneentity.TheywereonewiththeFury.Asthewarpswallowedthem,theblindthingthathadoncebeenBergeropenedafangedmawandscreamed.

FortressWorldofKasrHoln

The evacuation fleet was reaching the smoking ruins of the fortress world ofKasrHolnwhen theambushwassprung.From thewarp-cloudsdemoniccraftreached out a swirl of tentacles and impossibly fangedmouths that seized therearmostshipsanddraggedthemintooblivion.Oneofthedaemonswassovastits suckered tentacle wrapped about Kasr Holn and the world began to comeapartunderthestressesofgravity.The ships ofBattlefleetScarus coulddonothingbut accelerate to full speed.And then,before them, theaugury scanners suddenly litupwithcontacts, andthemassedshipsoftheBlackFleetappeared,weaponbatteriesloadedtofire.Theywerelost.Butthen,inthedarkness,agoldenlightshoneasthePhalanxappeared.ItengagedAbaddon’sflagshipandthrewtheenemyfleetoffbalance.Therewasabriefmoment’sopening.Admirald’Armitagesent theDelos, theMarquez and the Indomitable forward into the heretic lines. Their deckswerepacked with incendiary explosives, their skeleton crews steering them onramming trajectorieswith the largest heretic craft, before abandoning them totheir fate. TheDelos hit the Chaos cruiserMother ofHell in the aft and shedetonated seconds after impact. Her plasma reactors went critical and thesecondary explosion tore the neighbouring Scion of Hell in two, her decksvoidinganebulaofsmoke,oxygenandbodies.The captain of theEagle of Terror, through a series of brilliantmanoeuvres,managedtoavoidtheflightpathoftheMarquez,butshehitoneoftheescorts,asmallpiratevesselof theCrimsonClaws, and tore the smaller shipapartwithherexplosion.TheIndomitablewasonatrajectorytowardstheVengefulSpirit,andherpilot,

Captain Gregor Knox III, a Cadian of over three hundred years’ service inBattlefleetCadia, insistedon remainingaboardhisbridge tosteer the fire-shiphome.Defence turrets on the Vengeful Spirit pounded the small craft, but nothingcoulddislodgetheIndomitablefromherrelentlessapproachtowardstheenemyflagship. Interceptors raked her flanks, and she was burning from a dozenwoundsassheapproachedwithinfiftymilesofAbaddon’sflagship,andCaptainKnoxstaredinwonderandhorroratthesizeofit.He knew enough ofNaval history to recognise its core as one of the fabledGloriana-class battleships, but thousands of years of heresy andmutation hadtwisteditsshape,andbentittoanevilpurpose.Whereitsturretsandbuttressesandcathedralwindowshadoncebeenatestamenttogoldandprideandhonourof the Imperial Truth, it was now twisted, malevolent, and dark with arcaneenergies,thewindowportsglaringoutwithadull,intense,furnace-redlight.CaptainKnox felt his hands shake as he steered his small frigate towards it.Thathislifewasgoingtoend,andthatofthecrafthehadcaptainedforthelasthundredandtenyears,seemedafairtradetodamagethisexpressionofevil.As he approached towithin tenmiles, he lost his void shields, and the craftbegan to judderwith thedamage shewas taking.Theenemywaspummellinghermercilessly.Fragmentsofherarmouredceramiteprowweretumblingoutasshedroveforward,throughtheexplosionsofherowndestruction.When he was within five miles, he felt the juddering impact of a boardingtorpedoslammingintothecrewquartersbeneathhim.Hedivertedallpowertothe engine drives, squeezing out the last seconds before impact.Within thirtysecondshecouldfeelthetrampofpower-armouredfeetstormingupthegantrytowards thebridge.Thearmoureddoorswere three inchesof lockedceramite,but he had no illusions as to how long they would hold the enemy back. Apower-armouredhandhammeredonthedoor,andthenthemeltachargesblew,andhesawblackshapesmovethroughthesmoke,theirboltgunsraised.The mass of the Vengeful Spirit filled his crazed view-portals, and then hebegantolaugh.Hewasgoingtomakeit,hesaw.Hewassoclosenow,andhesteppedforwardtoaccepthisfate.‘Cadiastands!’heshoutedastheroarofboltgunsfilledthechamber.AndthentheIndomitableexploded.

FIFTEENLORD-LIEUTENANTBERWICKE

TheNaval battlewas just green dotswithin the holo-sphere display,with redrunes flashingwhen a craftwas destroyed.GeneralGrüberwatched the battlefrom the bridge of the Lord-Lieutenant Berwicke. The courage and skill ofBattlefleetCadiawasdemonstrable.Crewforcrew,theyout-foughttheshipsoftheBlackFleet,buttheBlackFleetoutnumberedthemalmosttwotoone.It was only the Phalanx that saved them, drawing the Black Fleet onto itsmonstrousguns.As the evacuation fleet fled towards the outer system, they fought runningbattleswiththepursingChaosships.Andthelongerthiswenton,thegreaterthetoll.BattlefleetCadia hadbeenpunished for the last hundreddays.Her crewswereexhausted.Hercraftweredamaged.OnebyonetheythrewthemselvesintothejawsofAbaddon’swolvessothatthetrooptransportscouldescape.ItwasaterrifyingpursuitthroughtheruinsoftheCadianSystem.Theorbitaldefence arrays at Kasr Partox were silent, their vast bastions and powergenerators ripped open with melta bombs, their crews slaughtered and thesystemsleft inoperable.ThedockingyardsofVigiliantumwereagraveyardofNavyhulks,sittinglikecoldstarswithinthenebulaoftheirowndestruction:gascloudsoffrozenoxygenandpromethium,apalegreeninthelightofthedistant

sun.FromthehiveworldofMacharia,acomettailofdestructiontrailedbehindit as its death spiral, which would see it impact the Cadian sun, began. AndwheretheprisonworldofStJosmane’sHopehadoncekeptwatchontheouterrimofthesystem,therewasnothingnowexceptasteroids–andadark,bloated,pox-riddendaemonship,theTerminusEst.Waitingforthem,aspatient,poisonousanddeadlyasaspider.

Grübermadehiswaytothetopofthecraft,whereNavigatorHyppolytushadhischambers.Thedoorwaslocked,andhistwinnedratlingsbowedtowelcomethegeneral,butwouldnotlethimin.Grüberranafingeraroundhiscollar.‘Ineedtospeaktohim,urgently,’hetoldthem.‘Youcannotenter,’theratlingssaidinunison.Grüber could not accept their answer. ‘We need tomake thewarp jump!’ heshoutedatthem.‘Immediately.’‘Heisnotready,’theratlingssaid.‘Howdowespeaktohim?’‘You cannot. The Lord Navigator is searching for escape. You should notquestionhiswork.’Alarms sounded throughout the craft.Grüber shookwith anger. ‘We have tomake the jump now! The Black Fleet have surrounded us. We have bareminutes!Doyouunderstand?’

ThePaxImperialis threw itselfbetween theevacuation fleet and theTerminusEst and emptied her flight decks in one vast disgorgement of bombers andfighters.TheyswarmedoutfromthemagnificentImperialflagshiplikeaflockofbees indefenceof theirhive.Thecrewsknewthat theyweregoing to theirdeaths as the battleship turned her armoured prow around and her dorsalbatteriesbegantoraketheenemyship.TherewasabriefflashofhopeasthevastbatteriesmomentarilyoverloadedtheTerminus Est’s void shields. That was when the Lunar-class cruiserHeart ofLightfiredhernovacannon.Theimmensegunshotavast,solidmetalslugatalmost thespeedof light. Ittracedanincandescentstreakofwhitelightacrossthesky,andhittheTerminusEstarakingshotalongitsportside,beforeexplodingamidships.Thevastpox-shiplurchedthroughspace,trailinganebulaofgasandfluidsasfiresbrokeoutwheretherewasoxygenenoughtosupportthem.ButthentheTerminusEstreturnedfirewiththreegreatsalvosthathitthePaxImperialis’ void shields as one, popping its protective bubble within bare

seconds, ripping into the superstructure and setting off a salvo of explosionsalongthegreatbattleship’sspine.Inside the Lord-Lieutenant Berwicke, Grüber was shouting at the ratlingattendantsoftheLordNavigator.‘We’rebeingdestroyed.They’rebeingrippedapart.There’sonlysomuchtimetheycangiveus.’Theratlingslinkedarms.‘WecannotinterrupttheLordNavigator.’‘Standaside!’Grüberorderedthem,buttheydidnotmove.Theratlingsthrewthemselves before the doorway to theNavigator’s chamber asGrüber steppedtowardsthem.Thegeneralhadbecomealmoststillwithfury.‘Thenwewillalldie.’Hereachedforhislaspistol.‘AndIcannotallowthattohappen.’The warp jump alarms rang out across the evacuation fleet. In every ship,crewmen looked at each other in astonishment and alarm. It seemed almostimpossiblethatthewarpshouldhaveshownthemawayoutofthesystemnow,whenthejawsoftheenemywereclosing.In the Lord-Lieutenant Berwicke Grüber looked about him. ‘What ishappening?’Theratlingattendantsdidn’tknowwhat tosay.Theystaredup,eyeswide,aswarning lights strobed through the ship. Low in the craft, the Geller fieldgenerators started upwith a dull vibration that quickened to a lowhum.LordNavigatorHyppolytushadfoundaroutethroughtheImmaterium.Onebyone,eachoftheImperialshipsraisedtheirGellerfieldandmadethedesperateleapintotheImmaterium.

The troops in the Lord-Lieutenant Berwicke were thrown about as the shipenteredthewarp.Theviolenceoftransitiondidnotsubside,butwentonforhourafterhourofterriblevibrations.In the cargo holds tanks ripped loose from theirmoorings, but itwas on thehumancrewthatthebuffetingpassagehadthemostprofoundeffect.Manywerepushedbeyond the limitsof endurance.Noonehadever seen somanypatientswithwarpsickness.Medicaeranoutofmindsuppressantsastheirdecksfilledwithmenandwomenclutchingdesperatelyat theshoresofsanity.Commissarsdispatchedthosewhoweredrivenmad,butsoonentirelevelsoftheshipwerededicatedtothesick.Where theywere available, Sisters ofBattle, priests andmilitarymendicantswalked up and down, soothing the incipient madness with prayers. On shipswhere there was no clergyman or woman available, officers read aloud frombooksofprayer,orevenjusttheUpliftingPrimer.

Afterthetumultsbegantoease,Grüberhadallthemilitaryreportshehadnotyet read brought to him. They filled an entire room with files, memos,regimentalreportsofcowardice,orfailureinthefaceoftheenemy.But again and again were reports of a winged saint. She had been seen onalmosteverybattlefront.Hermiracleshadsavedunitafterunitfromimpossibleodds.Grüberfoundhishandshakingasheworkedthroughthem.Hefoundtearsrising.GrüberhadfaithintheEmperor.

Three days into the flight there was a knock on the door. Grüber looked up,expecting to see Zabuzkho, but instead a commissar entered: a tall, leanmanwithanarrow,hawkishlooktohim,andalonghookednose.Grüber stood up to shake theman’s hand. ‘My name is General Grüber. TowhomdoIhavethepleasureofspeaking?’ThecommissarheldGrüber’shandforamomenttoolong,asifassessinghischaracterthroughhishandshake.‘Colonel-CommissarGrake,’hesaid,hisvoicedeep and resonant for a man so thin. He looked down on Grüber, which thegeneralfoundirritating.Hesatdown.‘Greetings.Pleasesit.HowcanIhelpyou?’Thecommissar satback, tookoffhispeakedhat and foldedone legover theother.Therewasstiffnesstohismovementsthatsuggestedanoldwound.Grüberwaited.Hetookaninstantdisliketotheman,though,tobehonest,he’dhardlyevermetacommissar thathe liked–and thosehe liked,he thought,generallymadebadcommissars.‘Therewasaseriousbreakdownofcommandinthehoursoftheevacuation.’Grübersatforwardandsteepledhisfingerstogether.‘Yes.Ofcourse,therewas.Mytroopswereevacuatinginthefaceofcontinuousattack.’Grake leaned forward. ‘Therewas cowardiceonCadia.Gross failureson thepartofyourtroopstocarryouttheirbasicduties.’Grüberstiffenedasheleanedforward.‘TherewascourageonCadia.Bravery.Stalwartdefianceoftheenemy.’Grakesmiledfromthecornerofhismouth.Itwasacoldandunpleasantlookthat showed metal-capped teeth. ‘In the last hours of Cadia, I shot fifty-ninemen.’‘SoIhaveheard.’‘And?’‘I think that is fifty-nine livesofmybrave troops thatyouwasted.Fifty-nine

fewerdefendersoftheImperiumofMan.’‘Intheirflighttheyhaddiscardedtheirweapons.’‘Yes,’ Grüber said. ‘I have read the reports. Guardsman Marling andGuardsman Marcus had lost their rifles because they were carrying theirwounded fellows.’Grüber fumbled for the relevantpaper. ‘Yes.Here!’he saiddefiantly. ‘And you also shot the wounded men they had brought to theevacuationpoint.GuardsmanMaterelandSergeantBlenkin.GuardsmanMaterelhad been shot in the arm,which reports saywas bound to his chest. SergeantBlenkinhadsteppedonamineandlostherlegfromthekneedownwards.’‘Sergeantshavearesponsibilitytosetaproperexampletotheothers.’Grüberwastremblingwithfury.‘SergeantBlenkinwasaveteranofnineyears.Shehadalready twicewon theEagleOrdinary, and Ihave three reports,here,here andhere,’ he said,waving thepapers in the air, ‘recommendingSergeantBlenkinfortheWardofCadia.Andyoushother!’Grüberwasstanding.Hehadbothfistsplantedonthedesk.‘Youshotawomanwhohadfoughtwithcommendationandbraveryfornineyears,earnedsomeofthehighesthonoursavailabletoaGuardsman,forthecrimeofdroppingherrifleoncewounded.’Grake seemed almost reptilian in his calm. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I had tomake anexample in order to stop panic breaking out. This is not about one or twoGuardsmen–’‘Fifty-nine,’Grübersaid,sittingbackdown.Grake shrugged. ‘–Or fifty-nine. It is about the ten thousand warriors I gotsafelyofftheplanet.’‘Othercommandersmanagedtodosowithoutshootingwoundedmen.’Grake’sblueeyeswerecoldassteel.Hemadenoresponse.Grübersatforward.‘Andwhataboutthethousandsyouleftbehind?’‘Iwasobeyingcommands.’Grüber slammed his palm down on the table. ‘You are hiding behind othermen’sorders.Icanlistten,twentyplaceswheretheordersweredisregarded,andwehavetwohundredthousandmoremenofftheplanetbecauseofthat.’‘Theyputthewholeoperationatrisk.’Grüber bit back his retort and Grake sat forward once more. ‘General, thedisciplineofyourwarriorsismyconcern.Iwanttherecords,soIcangothroughthem to ascertainwho should be executed. I have gone through the files, andfoundone thousand threehundredandsixteencasesofcowardice thatwarrantpunishment.GivemethelistofnamesandIwilldealwiththem.’

Grüberstaredathim.‘No,’hesaid.Grake’seyesnarrowedslightly.‘Pardon?’‘No.’Grakesmiledagain,achillingglimmerofmetalteethwherehisownhadbeenknockedout.‘General.IamtherepresentativeoftheCommissariat.’‘Ihavepardonedthem,’Grübersaid.‘Andformedapenaldivisionfromtheirnumber.Theywillhavethehonourofleadingournextattack.’Grakewas silent for a long time.He spoke slowly, like agambler layinghiscards,onebyone,ontothetable.‘Thatisyourprerogative.’‘Yes,itis,’Grübersaid.‘Ihavenodoubtthattheywillmakeupfortheirsinsbyfightingwithhonourandcourage.Butifyouhaveanydoubtsaboutthem,thenIsuggestyouleadthem.’Grakesmiled.‘You’reofferingmeapenalregiment?’‘Yes.’Grüber expected the commissar to refuse, but hewas impressedwhenGrakereachedonelong, thinhandacross the tableandshookhishand.‘Itwillbeanhonour,’hesaid.

Theyhadbeen in thewarp foramonthwhen,at last, theannouncementcameovertheship’sloudspeakers.‘Transitionimminent.’Shipsweremadeready.The initialwaveof reliefbegan tostretch thinas theshipwasbuffetedbyheadcurrentsthatseemeddesignedtopushthembackintothemaelstrom.The pressure mounted within the sealed troop hangars. Even experiencedpassengersswallowedbackvomitas the temperaturedroppedandwarp-alarmsbegantoringoutabovethem.Foramillisecondtherewerefacesandhandsandgaping maws swirling about the Geller fields. Across the craft stoic menscreamedforamomentasthepressureroseintheirheads.Butatlast,itseemedthatLordNavigatorHyppolytusFremmhadfoundawayback.Transiting awarp-going spaceship back into real spacewas like squeezing asplinterofsteelfromagangrenouswound.Realityreasserteditselfasthewarpgavewaywithaburstofpurple-andgreen-light.TheGellerfieldblinkedfromexistence,andthesuddenlossofpressuresuckedthewarplightbackuponitself.The explosion reversed this time, leaving the mile-long Lord-LieutenantBerwicketoslambackintorealspaceatdangerousspeed.Thearmourednosesectionre-enteredafullthree-point-twosecondsbeforethe

dorsalenginariums.Thebone-crunchofgravitytravelleddownthelengthofthecraft in a ripple of energies. Lights flickered. Heating systems coughed andgravitygeneratorsfailedacrossthetroopdecksforastomach-churningmoment.Inthebridge,adozenalarmssoundedasthelocalsuperstructuresfailedforaninstant. Across the ship, repair teams responded with well-trained speed topopped rivets, leaking bulkheads, boiler overloads. Some decks went entirelydark as reactors strained at the sudden drain of energy. Then the shock oftransition passed, the engines began to take the strain, the flicker of amberemergency lighting returned to normal and vast cogitators whirred as theyadjustedthegravitygeneratorstotheorbitalpullofplanetsandstars.Grüberwasstandingonthebridgeasthetransitionhappened.Hewaseagerforhis first glimpse of Holy Terra. As he stood at the viewport and looked out,CaptainZabuzkhocheckedthecharts.‘Arewethere?’Grübersaid.Zabuzkholookeddowncast.‘No,sir.’‘Wherearewe?’Zabuzkhoshookhishead.‘I’mnotsure.’

SIXTEENELYSIONFIELDS

Minkafiredasthefirstwarphoundappeared.Itwasamisshapenthing,withabunchedmaneofragingfire,humaneyesandasnout thickwithcurvedfangs.Theautopistolslughititinthechestanddidnothingtoslowit.Shefiredagain,withthesamelackofeffect,andnowshefiredathirdtimeandmissed.Asecond,thirdandfourthhoundappearedontheheelsofthefirst.Rathcursed,drewhisknifeandpushedMinkaoutoftheway.‘Cadia stands!’ he roared as the baying of hunters filled the air, and the firsthoundleapedforhisthroat.

Brother.HispackbrothershadhuntedallacrossCadia.Theyhadbroughttheirquarrytoground,andtornthemapart,andtheyhadgloriedinthebattle.Heknewthewarp-bornwouldcomeforthehumans.Theirsoulsweredaemon-bait,likethelightofadeep-seacreaturethatdrawsfishesnear.Asthewarphoundleapedin,Skarp-Hedinsprangforward.Itwasfast,buthewasfaster.Hecaughtitbythethroat.Thetwoofthemtumbledtotheground,arollingballof fur and fire.He tore its throatout,wasonhis feetbefore the second threw

itself at him and bowled him backwards, fangs crunching down on his powerarmour.Hepunchedhisfingersintoitseye,diggingdeepintothematterinsideitsskull.Itwasablowthatwouldhavekilledanythingmortal,but thesewerebeastsoftheImmaterium,andthewarphoundhowledwithpainandpleasureastheSpaceWolfsetonehandon its jawsandyanked,dislocating the jawsandripping itsheadfromitsshoulders.Inaninstantitwasgone,itsspirithowlingfrustrationasitwasbanishedforamomentfromthephysicalrealm.Inafrenziedblur,hetorethemapart.Alltherewas,wasthekilling.Itwassupreme.Itwasglorious.Brother.Itistime.Weareleaving.In amoment, Skarp-Hedin shookhis head, andhis berserk fury left him.Hefound himself staring down at the ground, where he had just thrown a warphound, and it had blinked out of existence as its hold on the corporeal realmfailed.Therewasashadowonthefloorbeforehim.Helookedupandsawaswirlingpurplecloudofwarpenergy.Somethingwasmanifestingintheairabovehim.Hedrooledwithanticipationasa redfigurestarted tosolidifywithin thecloud:avast redmonster,whip inonehand,greatbrassaxeintheother.

Minkawasonherhandsandknees,retchingasthewarpenergiesswirledabouther.Shefelt thegroundshudder.Shelookedup.Avastshapeofredfirestoodaboveher.Sheclosedhereyesasittookasinglestepforward.Cadiatrembledbeneathitsfoot.Somehowshefiredherautopistolbuttheleadroundwaslostinthecreature’sunholyflesh.Minka scrabbledbackwards.Themonstrous thing lifted itsgreat axe into theair.MinkacalledouttotheGod-Emperortowitnessherdefiance.‘InthenameoftheGod-EmperorofMankind!’sheshouted.Therewasaflashofwhitelightandthesoundofsinging.Sheputherhanduptoshieldhereyesasawhiteshapematerialisedintheairaboveher.

Thewinged saint is sublime, transcendent. Shehaswingsof feathers.A silverhalo. The angry face of an angel. She hangs in the air above them all. It isimpossibletolookatherdirectly.Itisnottheonlythingaboutherthatdefieslogic.

In truth, she isnothere.She is in tenplacesatonce, fighting theenemiesofmankind.Sheliftsaswordofflamingwhite,yetitisnotthebladethatkills,butthepowerofhertruth.Herchinishigh.Herfaceuplifteddoesnotshinewiththepurplelightofthesky,butwiththegoldenlightofaradiantsun,abrightTerranday,athroneofincandescentgold.Ifshespeakswordstheyarelikethewindinthemountainforest–aroarofnaturalpower.Minkatriestostand,butthelightislikeamountaingale,pushingherback.Shehearsasnarlingvoice,andknowsthatitisthewarp-born.Lightflashes,orratherdarknessflashesinthelight,andthenshehearsalowmoan.It isherownvoice.It is like thevoicesofwomeninchildbirth,agroanthatissqueezedfrominsidethem.Itisamoanofpain,ofcreation,ofexultation.Minkastands.Foramomentsheisthesaint.Itishervoicespeaking.InthenameoftheGod-EmperorofMankind.

Thewhitelighthadgone.Minkafellontoherhandsandkneesandcoughed.Therewasbloodonherface.Shedidnotknowifitwashersornot.Herrighthandwasscorchedredasifshehadheldabrandinit.Shepushedherselftoherfeet.‘Up!’someonewasshouting.Somethinggrabbedherarm.Shecouldbarelysee.Hereyesweredazzledstill.Shefeltgiddy,feltasshehadinherdreamswhenshesawherselfhangingoverthecity.Shehadfaith.

Brother,itistime.Weareleaving.Skarp-Hedinturned.Therewasthelander.Heseemedtorememberit,andthenitallrushedbacktohim,theassaultbyOttartheWhite,themoundsofthedead,thelander.Thelander.Its rampswereclosed. Its systemswereactive.Hesprinted for thecabin, ranandcaughttheladderandhauledhimselfup.‘Iamcomingbacknow,’hevoxedasheslammedthecabinreleaselatch.Avoicecalledouttohim.Itwasnothisbrothers.He turned,andsaw twohumans,amaleanda female, lookingupwith facesdrawnwithterrorandexhaustion.‘Helpus,’themansaid.Skarp-Hedinwas repelled by theword. Itwas not aword hewas used to. Itspokeofweakness.Ofdefeat.Herespondedwithagrowland threwthecabindooropen.

‘Youcannotleaveus,’themansaid.‘Ourfightisnotyetdone.Wehavetotakerevenge.’Skarp-Hedin paused. Revenge was a word he understood. There were manyreasonsnottohelpthem.Theywereweak.Theywerehuman.Theywouldslowhimdown.Despitethat,heturned.‘Canyoufly?’hedemanded.Rathnodded.Skarp-Hedinapproved.TheSpaceWolfreacheddownandheldoutahand.Hehauledthemuponebyone.

TheSpaceMarine turned to themand spoke.Minka staredup.Thevoicewasdeepandgravelly.Shecouldnotunderstandthewords.He spoke again, and this time she caught his guttural accent. ‘How do youknowhowtofly?’Rathnodded.‘Cadian101st,Airborne,’hesaid.TheSpaceWolflaughed.‘Flythen,’hesaid.‘Ihunt.’TheSpaceMarinestalkedinsideandleftthetwoCadiansinthecockpit.Thepilothadbeentornapart.Thecabinwasawashwithclotsofblood;therewasnotimetocleanthemess.Itwasascrambleastheygotthecraftreadytofly.Rathwinced as he slid into the pilot’s seat. ‘Are you sure you can fly this?’Minkaasked.‘Yes,’Rathsaid, thoughhedidn’t soundsure.Minkawatchedhimworkone-handed, pressing the activation studs. His face was pale. His breath seemedlaboured.Eventhelightofhisaugmeticeyeseemeddull.Heforcedasmile.‘Ofcourse.IwasAirborneonce.’Theenginescametolifeonthethirdtry.Rathpulledonaleverandfounditwasthewrongone.Hetriedeachoftheleversinfrontofhimandseemedsatisfied.‘Right,’hesaid.‘Heregoes.’Theenginesroaredashebroughtthemuptofullstrength,thenheputhishandstothecontrolsandtookadeepbreath.Thecraft’snoseliftedunsteadily.Ithungahundredfeetabovetheground,itswingsshudderingviolently.Rathlookedconfused.Hestruggledtokeepherlevelasthecraftwasbuffetedbywinds,thenfoundtherightleverandpushedtheenginenozzlesfromlifttofly.It was a tortuous flight.Minka clung on and prayed.Warp creatures flew at

them, swatting themselves against the viewport.Oneof themwas sucked intotheengine,whichrattledforamoment.‘Throne,’ Rath hissed, expecting the engine to rupture, but it coughed andspluttered,andthenkickedbackintoflame.

Cadia fell away behind them. Once they were out of immediate danger, theSpaceWolftookover,rippingthecaptain’sseatoutofitsmountinginordertomakeroomforhimself.‘Wherearewegoing?’Rathasked.‘Mybrothersarewaiting,’theSpaceMarinesaid.Theydidnotaskanymorequestions.Itwasmorethantwohours’flightbeforethe Space Wolf strike cruiser appeared before them. It was a grey slab ofceramite,hanging in thevoid, thebloodylight twinklingoff thevast turretsofcannons and lance arrays. Minka barely dared breathe as they flew into theshadowofthevastcraft.Thereweredarkopeningsalongitsside.ItwastooneofthosethattheSpaceMarine flew them. The yawning gap filled the viewport. Slaved guns trackedthemastheyflewintotheshadowedtunnel.TheSpaceWolfbroughtthelanderdownwithathudthatslammedMinkabackagainst thewall. Theywere inside a brightly lit landing bay. The SpaceWolfstood,kickedthedooropenandsqueezedout,hispowerarmourgratingagainstthedoorframe.Heleapedthetwentyfeetdowntothefloor.RathandMinkalookedateachother.‘I’llhelpyou,’shesaid.MinkahelpedRathdown.TheSpaceWolfwaswaiting for them. ‘Come!’heshouted,andwavedthemtothedoorwayasservo-attendantsmovedoutfromthewallontrackedcarriagesandbegantoattendtothelander.MinkaslippeddownbehindRath.Skarp-Hedin’s footstepspoundedoutashecrossed the floor.Therewere fivemoreSpaceMarines in grey power armour, standing in two files by the door.Rath needed amedicae, but she didn’t daremove. The scale of this shipwasbuiltforAdeptusAstartes,nothuman.Everythingwastoolarge.TheSpaceWolfcalledouttoher.‘Come!’andshetookastepforward.AsshehelpedRathalong,thewaitingSpaceMarinessuddenlyliftedtheirfistsand made the sign of the aquila. Minka froze at the sudden movement, butSkarp-Hedinspoke.‘Donotfear.They’resalutingyou.’

PARTFOURCADIASTANDS

ONEAGRIPINAASYSTEM

Tithe-servanttoCadia,theforgeworldofAgripinaawasknownastheOrbofaThousandScars, its inhabitants sealedwithin their hive complexes in order toprotect them from the toxic atmospheres; eighty million industrial slavessustainedbytheagriworldsofYayor,DentorandUlthor.Itwasabastionofaplanet,withitsownbattlefleetandatrioofRamilies-classstarforts in orbit about its surface ofmines, factories, refineries and industrialcomplexes. And it was to Agripinaa that the warp flung the Lord-LieutenantBerwicke,itscrewandpassengersshakenanddislocated.

Grüberhadtakenabriefrest.WhenhewokehefoundthatLalinchadsomehowmanaged to salvage his dress uniform from Cadia. It was laid out in hisantechamber.Grüberwashedhisfacewithadampclothandstoodovertheflatuniform.Hisfingerstouchedtherichbrocade,andheletitfallbackdown.‘IthinkIwillstayinmilitarygarb,’hesaid.‘Iunderstand,’Lalincsaid.Grübernodded.‘HastheNavigator’schamberopenedyet?’‘Notyet,sir.’

‘Letmeknowwhenitdoes.’‘Ihaveaskedtobenotifiedassoonas,’Lalincsaid.

Grüberstaredathisdressuniformforalongtimeandpickeduphissword.He’dbeengiven it, a centurybefore,whenhe hadbeenmade a full general. It hadsavedhislifemorethanonce.Itfeltgoodtoholditagain.Hepressedthepowerstud.Athinlineofblueenergycrackledalongitssingle,curvededge.Hegaveitafewswings.Ithummedasitcutthroughtheair.Therewasaknockathisdoor.Grübersheathedhissword,buckledhisbelttight.Itwasnowtwoholestighter.Hehadlostweight.Theyallhad.Inmanyways.Fourmonthsearlier,Cadiahadhadthebesttroopsinthegalaxy,butnowtheywereleaner,tougher,harder.Anditwashisresponsibilitytoleadthem.Theknockcameagain,moreurgentthistime.‘Comein!’hecalled.Lalincsteppedinside.‘CaptainZabuzkhosaysthatLordNavigatorHyppolytus’chamberwillsoonopen.’‘Thankyou,’Grübersaid.‘Ishallcome.’

Therewasa flurryofactivityasGrüberstrode through thebridgecorridorsofthe Lord-Lieutenant Berwicke and arrived at the doors to the Navigator’schamber.Grübersniffed.Thetwinnedratlingswereholdingeachother’shands.Grüber tried to ignore them as the doors to the chamber were unlocked. Thesealsopenedwithahiss,andthedoorsslidopen.NavigatorHyppolytusdidnotappear.Grüberstrodeforward.Theairinsidehadamusty,drysmell.‘Please,’theratlingssaid.‘Donotgoin.’‘Whereishe?’‘Wewilllook,’theysaid.TheLordNavigatorappearedslowly,limpingdownthesteps.Thetallmanwasbowedandbent.TheratlingsbroughtoutachairandheldtheLordNavigator’shandsashesatdown.Hecoughed,andGrübersawbloodonthecloththatheheldinhishand.‘LordNavigator?’Hyppolytus lookedup.The silk clothwasknotted abouthishead.He lookedclosetodeath.Whenhespokehisvoicewaslittlemorethanarattle.‘GeneralGrüber,’hesaid.‘Wehavearrived.AgripinaaSector.’‘Thatiscorrect.Youdeliveredus,’Grübersaid.‘Thankyou.’

HyppolytusFremmclosedhiseyesandswallowed.‘ItwasmorethanIthoughtIcouldmanage,general.Thewarp is insuch tumult.’Heclosedhiseyesoncemoreandanexpressionofsicknesscrossedhisfaceforamoment.‘ThiswasasfarasIcouldmanage.’Grüber had never touched a Navigator before, but he put a hand out to themutant’sandgaveitareassuringsqueeze.‘Youdidwell.’‘Didtheothersmakeitthrough?’theNavigatorasked.Grüberdidnotknowhowtobreakthebadnews.‘Some,’hesaid.‘Ahandfuloftenders.Ofthebigships…TheLadyofGygaxmadecontactanhourago.AndwehavemadevisualcontactwiththeVenerableWarrior.’Hyppolytusfrowned.‘Andtheothers?’‘Nothing,’Grübersaid.‘Yet.’TheNavigatorclosedhiseyes.‘Maybetheywillcomethrough.’‘Maybe,’theNavigatorsaid.Helookedweary.‘Youdon’thaveanysignofthem?’TheNavigatorshookhishead.‘Nothing.Itriedtoshowthemtheway,butthegapwasclosingevenaswemadethetransition.’‘Havetheybeenlost?’TheLordNavigatordidnotanswer.‘Itispossiblethattheyhavebeenscattered.ThewarpstormwasunlikeanyIhaveseenbefore.Butyes,itispossible.’‘Probable?’TheLordNavigatorshookhishead.Grüber took inadeepbreath. ‘Well.Assoonaswemake it toAgripinaa,wewillmakecontactwiththeHighLordsofTerra.’‘Yes,’theNavigatorsaid.‘Terramustknow.’

As the four survivingshipsof theevacuation fleet limped towards thesystem,Grüberestablished the fighting strengthof the forces thathadmade it throughthewarp.Itwasonlyninetythousandmen.Ninetythousandfromapopulationofninehundredmillion.OneinathousandhadsurvivedthefallofCadia.Grüber’sstafflefthimalone.Theywereasstunnedastheircommander.An hour passed. Decisions had to be made. It was Marshal Shai Arrian, asurvivorofKasrKraf,whohad the courage to comeanddisturb thegeneral’sreverie.Hecoughed.‘LordGeneralGrüber…’Grüber slowly looked up. ‘Ninety thousand,’ he said.Arrian did not answer.

‘HowistheLordNavigator?’‘Heisrecovering.’‘IsthereawaytoTerrafromhere?’Arrianinclinedhishead.‘Iwillask.’‘Yes,pleasedo.’Therewasa long silence. ‘I’mnot surehecouldmakeanotherwarp transit,’Arriansaid.Grüber nodded.He had dreamt of bringing the news toTerra himself.But itseemedeventhissmallvictorywastobedeniedhim.‘AnywordfromAgripinaa?’‘No,sir,’Arriansaid.‘Ourastropathshavetriedtocontacttheforgeworld.Buttherehasbeennoresponse.’

In the command chamber aboard the Lord-Lieutenant Berwicke, Lalinc wentthrough the reportswithGeneralGrüber.Theywere assessing the armour thatthey had on board. ‘Three Baneblades. I see the Pugilist made it, and theExcalibur,andtheMachariusStar.’‘IsthatPask’stank?’‘No,sir.HedrovetheHandofSteel.’‘Ofcourse.Anynewsofhim?’‘Unfortunatelynot.’‘Witnesses report that his Titan hunters knocked out two squadrons ofWarhoundsofLegionIgnatum,beforetheend.’Paskwasafinefighter.Alittlequiet,butheroesoftenwere,he’dfound.Inhismind,hewentovertheeventsonCadia.TheenemyhadnotplannedthemannerofCadia’sdemise.Ithadbeenanopportunisticattack.Aluckygambit.Theyhadwonthebattle,hewassure.Lalinckepttalking,butGrüberhadstoppedlistening.Hismindwandered,andhesatforwardandsaid,‘WeshoulddecoratePask.Posthumously.Whatmedalsdoeshehavealready?’Lalinc didn’t know. ‘Well,we should give him something else.Damn it,weshouldstrikeanewmedalforallthesurvivorsofCadia.’Grübermusedonthename.‘How’syourHighGothic?’Hisaidemadeaface.Hewasasoldier,notascholar.‘Arrian!’Grübercalled.‘How’syourHighGothic?’‘Reasonable,’themarshalsaid.‘Good,’Grübersaid,rubbinghishandstogether,andstartedtoexplain.

Itwasdecidedthatthemedalwouldbenamedthe‘InvictusCrimson’andthatallsurvivingtroopswouldbeawardedit.AllCadians,infact,whohadsurvivedthewar.Grüberhadbeenenergisedbytheconversation,butoncethemedalhadbeensketched,hesatdownandappeareddeflatedoncemore.‘WhatwillhappentotheCadianShockTroopers,nowthatCadiaisnomore?’Lalincaskedsuddenly.Grüber nodded. ‘Well. We regroup. We raise more troops. Perhaps theImperiumwillgiveusanewplanet to settle.’Grüber rubbedhiseyes. ‘Ican’tseetheHighLordsofTerrarewardingusfordefeat.’‘Buttheyearsofservice,’Lalincsaid.‘Andbesides,wedidnotfail.’Grübernodded.‘Wedidnot.Butweshallbeblamed.’Whensomethingwentwrong, great institutions needed scapegoats. ‘There are many in the AstraMilitarumwhoarejealousofourstatus.Theyarejealous,frankly,thatwehavealways been the foremost,’Grüber said. ‘Theywill see the fall of theCadianGateasconfirmationthatwehavefailed.Theywillwanttotakeourplace.Theywillwanttodemoteus.Icannotletthathappen.’‘Iagree.Butwhatcanwedo?’Grüberstood.‘Wehavetoprovethatweareaforceworthkeepingtogether.Ifwe are inAgripinaa, thenwemust take the opportunity. I shall sendword toTerra. Theymust hear the story from us first. The Imperium cannot functionwithoutus.’Atthatmomenttherewasaknockonthedoor.‘Yes.’Twomen entered.Onewas a short, broadman; the otherwas young,with athick mop of brown hair, a round face and the youthful beginnings of amoustache.Grüberdidnotknoweitherofthem.‘Yes?’Theyoungmanhesitated.‘Thecaptainaskedmetocomeandseeyou.’‘Why?’Grübermotionedhimtocomeforward.Onhischest,hisjacketworeafamiliarredwarninglabel.‘Sir. I amSanctionedPsykerRuut, currently servingwith theCadianEighty-Fourth.’‘Ah.Andthisis…?’Theothermansteppedforward.‘IamSergeantIvann.’Hepattedhislaspistol.‘Hisminder.’Psykerswereadangerousweapon.Sometimestheyneededtobeneutralised.Grüber turnedhisattention toRuut. ‘We lostour lastastropath in thewarp. IwantamessagesentthroughtoTerra.Canyoudoit?’

Ruutblanched.‘Myastropathicabilityisweak,I’mafraid,sir.Evenatthebestof times itwould take an astropathic choir to send amessage that far. I am abattle psyker. Telekinesis. Lower delta level. As an astropath, I am kappa atbest.’Theman seemed a little slow. Grüber nodded indulgently. ‘Can you at leastreachAgripinaa?We have had no response from them. Therewill be a choirtherethatcanrelaythemessageon.’‘Yes,sir.Iwilldomybest.’‘Good.Communicate to them that theCadianHighCommandhas evacuatedthe planet, following the collapse of the Cadian Gate. Let the hive lords ofAgripinaaknowweare indesperateneedofprovisionsandmedicae facilities.ReassurethemthatwearemakingforHolyTerra,andrequireabriefstopover.Donottellthemmore.Thelesstheyknowatthispointthebetter.’

Twohourslater,Ruutreturned.Hehadawornlookabouthim.Grüberlookedup,expectantly.‘Yes?’‘Iamafraidthereisbadnews.’Grüber laughed.Hehadheardenoughbadnews foroneday. ‘Well,’he said,sittingback.‘Youhadbettertellme.’‘I have not managed to contact Agripinaa.’ Ruut shook his head. ‘I couldprojectmyvoiceout.ButIheardnothing.’‘Nothing?’Ruutshookhisheadagain.‘Whatdoesthatmean?’Grübersaid.Ruutsaidnothing.Noonewantedtosayitoutloud.Grüberputhisheadinhishands. ‘Dismissed,Ruut.Lalinc, I amgoing to liedown.Fetchmeas soonasthereisnews.’

NextmorningGrüberwaswokenbyLalincknockingonhisdoor.Hisadjutantlookedlikehehaddressedhastily.‘Yes?’Grübersaid,sittingupfromhissimplecampbed.Hefumbledforthechrono,thinkinghehadmissedhischime,butitwasstilltwohoursbeforeshipdawn.‘Sir,wehavemadefirstvisualcontactwithAgripinaa.’‘And?’‘Well,Ithinkitisimportantthatyoucometoseeforyourself.’

Grüber took the lift to thecaptain’sbridge,where thenight shiftwasonduty.Arrianwasthere.Themarshalhadbeenworkingallnight,andtherewereheavy

bagsunderhiseyes.Grüberstrodeacrosstotheviewport.Hedidn’tknowwhathewas supposed tobe lookingat. ‘There,’Arrian said.Hepointed toabrightpointbeforethem.‘Whatisit?’‘ItisoneoftheRamiliesstarforts.’‘And?’‘Ithasbeendestroyed.’ArrianpassedGrüber a pict image. It showedwhatwas left of theRamilies-classstarfort.Thecathedralwasbrokenandburnedout,itsplasmareactordead.‘Andtheothers?’There was one more. Both of the vast bastions showed significant signs ofdamage.‘Andthethird?’Arrianmadeaface.‘Itisnolongerhere.’‘Whatdoyoumean,it’snolongerhere.Hasitleft?’‘No,’Arriansaid.‘Fromthedebriscloudhere,Ithinkitsreactorswentcritical.’‘Destroyed.’Arriannodded.‘ButtodestroyaRamilies…I’veneverheardofsuchathing!’‘Nevermindthree,’Arriansaid.

AstheydrewclosertoAgripinaa,visualcontactsbegantoconfirmtheirgreatestfears.Agripinaahad suffered the same fate asCadia, and shehadnot had theCadianShockTroopdefendingher.Her proud defences had been smashed. The wrecks of Battlefleet Agripinaahung in sedate silence in the void, clouds of ice and gas and frozen flotsamsparklinginthelightofthedistantsun.Theonlymovementwasthefronthalfofabattleship,quicklyidentifiedas theTheseusfromthesizeof thedorsal lanceturrets, which was turning slowly as its floors vented the last of its internalatmosphere.Themajesticbattleshipsandcruisershadbeentornapart.Theirescortsclungtothemlikepigletsabouttheirsow;buttheytoowerefrozenandstillanddead.

TheLord-LieutenantBerwickepushedon through the ironcorpses, leading thesmallflotillaofsurvivorsthroughthedebrisfield.ThesightofAgripinaakilledanyhopetheymighthaveheldonto.Theplanet–agreyballofforge-worldashandpollution–wasnowavast,blackcomet,circlingslowlyinitsorbit,alongtailofrock,smokeanddebrisfallingbehind.TherewasstunnedsilenceonthebridgeoftheLord-LieutenantBerwicke.

‘Agripinaa,too?’someonesaid.Nooneresponded.‘Ourenemiesseemtohaveforeseenoureverymove,’Grübersaid.Again,noonespoke.AtlastGrübersaid,‘Saynothingofthis.Nothingatall.Communicate that to the other captains. Themen cannot know. They have tohavehope.’Helookedateachofhiscommandersinturn.‘Understood?’Theynoddedsolemnly.

TWODEBRISFIELD,AGRIPINAASECTOR

TherewassilenceaboardtheSonsofMalicecruiser,theBronzeMinos.The figures in the bridge wore archaic power armour of black and whitequarters,with trims of brass spikes. Theywere still as shadows as they stoodwaiting, and at last a figure moved on the bridge. No one stirred as thenewcomerspokeinalowhissoffangs.‘Agitor.’‘Yes,Junger.’‘Wehaveidentifiedtheships.’TherewasapausebeforetheAgitornodded.‘Speak.’‘TheshipsarefromCadia.’Thewordshadaheavyimport,andJungerletthemfallbeforesayinganymore.TheAgitorsmiled.‘Abaddon’snetwasnotastightashepromisedus.’‘No,lord.TheseareCadians.’TheAgitorpaused.Hedidnotturnfromtheviewscreenandspokeinawhisper.‘So, Junger. This is all that remains of Cadia’s proud armies – a handful ofhulks?’‘Yes,Agitor.’ThistimetheAgitorgavealowchuckle.Thesuddennoisesurprisedsomeoftheotherfiguresstandingthere.‘So.Thechancehasbeengiventoustodestroy

theSonsofCadia.HowcouldIletthismomentpass?Whenwewipethemout,willtheyunderstandthedelightfulironyofthismoment?’‘Idoubtit.Whatdotheyknow?Theylearnnothingthatistrue.Theywillhavenoideaaboutus.Aboutthepast.Abouttheblooddebttheyoweus.’‘Theywon’t,willthey?It’salmostsad.Perhapsweshouldletthemknow.’Junger frowned. ‘Theywouldnotbelieve it.Wedidnot remember.Until oureyeswereopened.’TheAgitormusedonthis.‘Weshouldjustkillthem,’Jungersaid.TheAgitornodded.‘Youareright.’

The name of the Sons of Malice Chapter had long since been erased fromImperial records, but they had been loyal once. Theywere one of the twentyChaptersknownastheAstartesPraeses,ChaptersdevotedtokeepingtheCadianGatesecure.For centuries they hadwaged a tough and relentlesswar against the hereticsanddaemonsoftheEyeofTerror.Theferociousmannerofwar-makingbecameabywordfortheruthlessandrelentlesspunishmentoftreacheryandheresy,andtheypridedthemselvesonthecosttheyinflictedupontheirfoes,takingrecruitsfromtheirhomeworld,Scelus,wheretattooedtribesindulgedincannibalism.It was aftermillennia of devoted battle that an Imperial Inquisitor, SolomonPietas,hadwitnessedthemanneroftheirflesh-eatingceremonies.Instinct toldhim that theChapterhadalreadyfallen,andhehadbrought inastrike attack of Sisters of our Martyred Lady and five regiments of ImperialGuard.The combined force caught theSons ofMalice in oneof their eleven-yearriteswhentheirguardwasdown.TheyattackedtheChapterwithmeltaandfireandfury.The attack failed utterly. Solomon Pietas was captured and sacrificed in theChapter’s innerchambers,andaswordarrivedat theHighLordsofTerra, theSons of Malice were offered the chance to repair their sins with a fifty-yearcrusade.The Chapter Master had refused. He would accept neither censure norpunishment.Buthewasawarriorwithhisownsenseofhonour.The Imperialenvoywas allowed to depart unscathed, the low hiss of theChapterMaster’sdefianceringinginhisears.‘Wehavedonenothingwrong,’hehad toldhim.‘Weshallnotdopenance toany.’

Itwasamisconceptionthatbattleswerewonbystrength,orpower,orferocity.It was certainly something that the Chapter Master of the Sons of Malicebelieved. Typical of a gene-enhanced member of the Adeptus Astartes. ButstudentsofImperialhistoryknewthatmartialstrengthdidnotdecidethevictors.In ancient times a snowstorm or inclement weather might have tilted thebalanceofbattle.Thevictorswereoftendecidedbysmall,incidentalfacts.Andin the caseof the strugglebetween InquisitorSolomonPietas and theSonsofMalice,itwastheinquisitor’smessagethatarrivedatHolyTerrafirst.TheSonsofMaliceassumedthattheirlonghistoryofservicetotheImperiumwouldvindicatethemofchargesthattheyconsideredbaseless.But the inquisitor had sent urgent and skewed accounts to theHighLordsofTerra,andwithtroublesoclosetotheCadianGate,thepanickedresponseoftheImperiumwasswiftandbrutalandsudden.AnexterminationfleetarrivedintheScelusSystemwithinmonths.TheywouldnotlistentoanyoftheSonsofMalice’sbriefmessages.Itwaswar.

TheSons ofMalice escaped aboard their battle-barge, theLabyrinth, but theyleft their home world of feral tribesmen undefended, and it was on the feralworldthattheforcesofCadiadescended,scouringtheplanetofhumanlifeinaterriblecampaignoffireandmurder.TheChapter had been forced into the Eye of Terror. There, they had foughtboth the heretics and the Imperium, until at last Abaddon had brought themround tohis cause.Despite centuriesofheresy, the injusticeof their treatmenthad burned within them. After centuries of fighting and struggle, they had,throughstupidityandalarm,beendrivenintothearmsoftheenemywhomtheyhadbeencreatedtodefeat.TheChapterhadchafedforcenturies,anditseemednowtheyhadbeengivenachance to punish the Cadians for the role they had played in their ancienttragedy.Allthiswasknowntothewarriorswhostoodonthatbridge.AgitorKanathclosedhiseyesandsaidasilentprayerofthankstothepoweroflawlessnessandviolence.‘Fateiskindtothosewhohate,’theAgitorsaid.‘Theydestroyedthetribeswhowereourmotherandfather.Weshalldestroythemandeattheirsouls.’

ButitwasnotjusttheSonsofMalicewhohadheardtherumours.AllacrosstheAgripinaa Sector, rumour flew. From the vapour world of Yaymar to thesubterranean hives ofNarsine, hereticalwarbands of TraitorAstartes gathered

likecarrion,determinedtotaketheirshareofwhateverglorywasonoffer.Word travelled quickly through the warp. Daemons brought their mortalworshippersintothesecret,andacrossthewholesectorofwhathadoncebeenImperialspace–theagriworldofAlbitern,theislandhivesofTabor,thegrox-raisingplainsofSarlax,fromLelithar,thepenalworldsofBar-elandfromproudMalin’sReach–shardsof theBlackLegionbegan togather likevultureswhoseeanoldanddyingbeastfallandstruggletorise.

THREEAGRIPINAASECTOR

OnthebridgeoftheLord-LieutenantBerwicke,thealarmbellsstartedmomentsbefore the troop tenderSpear ofAegeas exploded. Captain Zabuzkho scrolledthroughthereadouts.‘Whathappened…?’Heknew the captain of that craftwell. ‘Plasma reactor overload,’ one of theflight crewsuggested,but then the first lance shots flaredout,hitting thenextship,theLadyofGygax,inherexposedbelly.‘Raisevoidshields!’CaptainZabuzkhoordered.‘Now!’Onebyonethesurvivingshipsoftheevacuationfleetgottheirvoidshieldsup.WhiletheSpearofAegeasburned,thecaptainoftheLadyofGygaxranthroughemergencyprotocolsinanefforttosavehisship.Shehadsufferedcriticalhullruptures on all three troop levels. The ship would be lost entirely unless hercaptaintookdrasticaction.Hedidnothesitateinopeningeachofhisvoidgates.Thevoidsuckedoutthecontentsofthechambers.Inthespaceoftwominutes,seven thousand veterans of Cadia Tertius were expelled out into the freezingvoid.Thosethatforgottoexhalepoppedlikehumanballoons.Theydiedmorequickly.Theothersswelledasthewaterintheirskinandmusclesevaporated.Theylostconsciousness.Withintwominutesallofthemweredead.

ThetransportImperiousGeorgwashitbyatorpedointheenginarium,rendingtheslenderlozengeofacraftpowerlessastheSonsofMalicebattle-barge,theBronzeMinos,movedalongside.In a colossal broadside, the Space Marines of the Sons of Malice ventedcenturiesofhatredonthedefencelesswarriorsofseventeensurvivingregimentsofCadiansaboardtheImperiousGeorg.The Venerable Warrior followed the Lord-Lieutenant Berwicke as theyacceleratedaway,buttherewasnowaythattheslowtransportscouldoutrunastrikecruiseroftheRenegadeAstartes.GrübersummonedLordNavigatorHyppolytus.Theabhuman limped into theroomwithhistworatlingattendants.Grüberexplainedthesituation.WashewellenoughtotakethemtoTerra?‘Thewarpwillnotbeanykindertousthanitwaslasttime.’‘Youdonotthinkwewouldsurvivethejump.’‘Iguaranteewewouldnot.’‘AndwehavenohopeofreachingTerra?’‘Inthesestorms,no.’‘Canwefightthemoff?’GrüberaskedZabuzkho.Theship’scaptainshookhisheadateventheideaofit.‘Thereisnoway.’‘Canweboardthem?’Thecaptainlaughed.‘Wehavenoboarders.Onlylanders.’‘Arethelandersequippedwithboardingdevices?’Zabuzkhoshookhishead.Grüber’sCadiantrainingtoldhimtomakethejump,toattack,tostandandfightandtosacrificehismen.‘Wecouldboardthemviathelandingbays.’‘Itwould be suicide.Their attack craftwould destroy us beforewe even gotclose.’Grüber leanedon thebackof the captain’s chair. ‘Well, it seemswehavenochoice.’Grüberclosedhiseyes.HecouldseeCreed’sfaceinhismind’seye:unshaven,thesmellofhismorningshotofamaseconhisbreath,hislipcurledintoasneerashelistenedtotheoldergeneralsspeak.Thatwaswhatanoldgeneralwoulddo,hetoldhimself.HeputhisfingerstohisforeheadandtriedtoforcetheghostofCreedtospeak.AlarmsrangasGrüberstoodwithhiseyesclosed.Theenemywasclosing.AtlastGrüberspoke.‘Doyouknowthissystem,captain?’CaptainZabuzkho shookhis head. ‘I have not been in theAgripinaaSystem

before,’hesaid.‘Anyoneelse?’ANavalsub-lieutenantsteppedforward.HeworetheblackvelvetgreatcoatofBattlefleet Cadia, gold embroidery about his cuffs, and a pair of heirloomlaspistols on his left hip. ‘Sir. My name is Lieutenant Denyam. I know thissystem well. I served for ten years at Aurent. I was an officer cadet on apromethiumhauler,theMayaHope.’‘Goodman.Comehere!’Grüberspelledoutwhatheneeded,andtheyoungermannodded.‘Ifthatiswhatyouwant,’hesaid,‘thenthebestplacewouldbehere.’Heput his finger to a point on the systemcharts. Itwas a smallmoon in anelliptical orbit aboutMorten’sQuay, oneof the inner planets of theAgripinaaSystem.‘Morten’sQuayhasonemoon,Faith’sAnchorage.Uninhabited,beyondafewpromethiumminingfacilities.Iceworld,’Denyamsaid.ItwasCaptainZabuzkhowhospoke.‘IfyoulandonFaith’sAnchorage,Iwilltryanddrawthemoff.’

Grüberlistenedtothecaptain’splan.Everythingaboutitseemedcrazy,buttheyhadnomoreoptionsbeforethem.Grüber nodded. ‘Right. Then that is it. Youwill bring us into low orbit anddisembark as many troops as possible. As soon as the landers get us off,Zabuzkho,youwillproceedatfullspeed.Theywilleitherhavetoengageusorfollowyou.’‘Iftheydonotfollowmetheywilldestroyyou,’Zabuzkhosaid.Grübernodded.‘Yes.Theywill.ButthenthereisachancethatyoucanmakeittoTerra.’Lalincsteppedforward.‘GeneralGrüber.YoushouldaccompanyZabuzkhotoTerra.’‘You want me to flee?’ Grüber asked. Lalinc tried to explain his point, butGrübercuthimoff.‘Iwouldbemortifiedtoleaveyoubehind.Anyofyou.No.Ishallstandandfightwithyou,andifitisourfatetobekilled,thensobeit.WeshallconsoleourselveswiththehopethatwordwillreachTerra.’Therewas silence ashis orders sank in.At lastGrüber lookedup.The faceswereallpalewithconcern.‘Thosearemyorders.Pleasebroadcastthemtothesurvivingships.’CaptainZabuzkhonodded.Orderswere relayeddown the vox tubes, and thestars in the viewport were starting to pan to the left as the Lord-Lieutenant

Berwickechangedcourse.Grüberdrewhisshouldersbackandforcedasmile.Theendhadcome.OntheicemoonofFaith’sAnchorage,CadianHighCommandwouldmake their laststand.

FOURFAITH’SANCHORAGE

Oldshipchartswereclear: therewasonlyone recordedpointofhabitationonFaith’sAnchorage, a small landingpad andhab-domeon thewestern icecaps,halfamilefromapromethiumminingcomplex.Grüberexaminedthemapshehad.Theycouldbeoutofdate,buttheywereallhehad togoon.Hab-blocks.Minehead.Landingzone.Store rooms.Kitchenblock.In hismindGrüber drew up rudimentary plans, turning themining complexintoafortress.Despiterepeatedcalls–onopenandencodedwavelengths–theoutpost did not answer any requests for information regarding the currentstrength of the garrison, their supplies of food and equipment, nor any otherancillarydetails.‘Wemust assume that therewill be nothing,’Grüber said as he put themapdown.‘Wemusttakeallweneedwithus.’

The enemy was closing in, but the Cadians prepared with their customaryefficiency, their tech-priests stripping the Lord-Lieutenant Berwicke and theVenerable Warrior of anything that they would need as the Lord-LieutenantBerwickeslippedintothegravitywellofFaith’sAnchorageandpowereddown

to disembark. It took less than six hours for all the troops to be ferried to thesurface.TheyfoundthatthebaseonFaith’sAnchoragehadalreadybeenwipedout.Thegeneratoriumwas burned out, theArvus lighters had beenmelta-bombed, andtheicewaslitteredwiththebodiesofthepromethiumminers.Grüberwasunperturbed.HehadaLemanRussshovethewreckedlandersintoaroughwallofsteelontheeastsideofthebase,thensetouthisdefencering.Individualcommanderstookovertheirownsectors,settingupenfiladingfieldsof fire, kill zones and a series of fall-back points. Grüber gave the place acursorylook.Itseemedironicallyfitting:asmall,unknownoutpostfortheprideofCadiatomaketheirlaststand.Atrailoflanderswasferryinghistroopsdowntothemoon.Hedidnotknowhowmanyhecouldgetontotheplanet.HecouldevenseetheungainlyshapesoftheLord-LieutenantBerwickeandtheVenerableWarrior.Fromhereeachcraftlookednobiggerthanthelastjointofhis little finger. A third of the way across the sky the strike vessels of theirpursuerswereapproaching.Heusedhisscopestoviewthem.Theylookedlikesixleansnakesslitheringtowardstheirprey.

AstheCadiansputthelasttouchestothetrenchesandfiringpoints,Grüberhadthe void shield raised about the base. There was a whine as the tech-priestscoaxed the generatorium to life, then the void shield flickered and shimmeredintobeing,abuzzingbluedomeabovethem.Iftheenemywantedtoengagethemthentheywouldhavetocomedowntothesurfaceandslogitout,toetotoe.ItwouldbringtheLord-LieutenantBerwickeandtheVenerableWarriorvaluabletime.Thetwoshipshadalreadydisengaged,eachheadingindifferentdirections.TheVenerableWarriorwasmakingstraightfortheoutersystem,itsenginesflaringblueplasmaastheyweredriventotheirutmost.‘Thinkthey’llmakeit?’Lalincsaid.‘Iprayso,’Grübersaid.Hisheartbegantosinkwhenoneofthestrikecruiserspeeledofffromthegatheringfleetandmadetofollowit.Half an hour later there were distant flashes of lance fire. Grüber took hisscopesfromLalinc.HewasjustintimetoseetheVenerableWarriorexplodeinaminiaturefirework.Grübercursedunderhisbreath.‘There’s always the Lord-Lieutenant Berwicke,’ Lalinc offered. ‘Zabuzkhoseemsagoodcaptain.’

‘Iprayso,’Grübersaid.

The Lord-Lieutenant Berwicke had taken an opposite course, flying close toAgripinaa’s sun in an attempt to get lost on the augury scanners. As thechronometer ticked by, it seemed that the Lord-Lieutenant Berwicke hadescaped.ButasnightbegantofallonFaith’sAnchorage,thesoldiersthathehadsettowatchtheskiesreportedthatalargercrafthadappearedtocuttheLord-LieutenantBerwickeoff.‘Whatcraft?Letmesee,’Grübersaid.Theyhelpedhimfindthespot.Grüber’s augmetic eye focused on the shape of the new ship. It had to be abattle-barge.‘Coulditbefriendly?’Lalincasked.‘It might be,’ Grüber said, but inside he knew that the Lord-LieutenantBerwickewasdoomed.Evenhere,itseemed,theywerecaughtinanetofsteelandfire.Anddespitetheirstruggles,theenemywasslowlytighteningthenoose.TheyusedscopestotrackthepathoftheLord-LieutenantBerwicke.Itranasclosetothesunasitdared.‘They’reapproachingfiringrange,’oneofhisaidesreported.‘Goon,’Grüberwilledit,punchinghisthigh,butthenhisaidereportedseeingasuddenflash.Oneoftheshipswasdead.AllofthemknewthatithadtobetheLord-LieutenantBerwicke.‘Ithinktheytried to engage their Geller fields,’ Lalinc said. ‘The reactor must have beendamaged or the Lord Navigator’s strength failed. Either way, the Geller fieldreactorfailedontransition.’‘Allhandslost?’Lalincnodded.Grüberaccepted thenews in stoic silence.TerrawouldneverknowwhathadhappenedonCadia.Half anhour later his scouts reported the first sightingoflandersmakingtheirwaydowntotheplanet.‘Ishouldmakeaspeech,’Grübersaid.‘Beforetheend.’Lalinclookedaboutandnodded.‘Yes.Itwouldmakethemenfeelbetter,I’msure.’

FIVETHEBATTLEOFFAITH’SANCHORAGE

Grüber had faced an orbital assault fromRenegadeAstartes before and knewwhat itwould entail:war on all fronts at once – a blistering attack combinedwith overwhelming and simultaneous ground and air-based assaults, no doubtwithprecisionstrikesonkeycommandersviadroppodorThunderhawk.Heprepared,asbestashecould,indeptharoundthedomedhab-block.Aboutit therewerewalls of stacked containers, the kitchenblock, a line ofwreckedArvus lighters.Heavy-weapons teamsdugfoxholes.AnygapswerefilledwithAegislinesandicetrenchesthatofferedwidefieldsofenfiladingfire.Grüberdividedthecommandofthelineintofour.Eachofhisbestcommanderswasputinchargeofaquarter.TheysetuptheirownHQbastions.Eachofthebastionswasindependentoftheotherssothatifoneshouldfalltheotherswouldnotbeaffected.Grübersetuphisdefenceinthedomedhab.Hekepthistanksback,inacentral,mobilereserve,whilehalfhisavailableBanebladesweredugin as massive support bastions, ready to pummel the enemy with theirdevastatingfirepower.A hand-picked bodyguard of Cadian kasrkin accompanied the general as hemade his rounds of each of the points of defence. About half his forces hadhostileenvironmentsuits.Therestmadedowithgreatcoatsandatripleissueof

Cadiandrab,whichsufficed.Itwasnotasifthecampaignwouldlastthatlong,Grüberthought.Lalincwasscanning thehorizonwithhisscopes. ‘They’removing in,’Lalincsaidashefacednorth.Grübergave theskylineabriefglance.Hewasnotworriedyet. ‘They’re justtakingtheirtime,’hesaid.‘We’llknowwhentheattackiscoming.’

The first ranging shots came half an hour later: lance strikes from orbithammering down. The first three hit the ice fields before the bastion. Thesuperheatedbeamssentagoutofsteamandiceupintotheair.Thefourthhitthevoidshieldandtheaircrackledwithbluelight,andthentheshotwasdissipatedandthevoidshieldheld.Grüber lookedupandseemedsatisfied.Hehated thewaiting.Hejustwantedthethingtostart.Itwaseasiertoreactthantokickone’sheels.Fortwentyminutesthestrikershoveredoverheadandpummelledtheicefieldsaboutthem.Lalincseemedjubilant.‘They’refools!’heshoutedoverthedinastheflaticefieldswerechurnedup.‘They’llhavetogetthroughthat!’Grüberputhishandonhisswordhilt.‘Thatwon’tslowthemdown.’Lalincdidn’tunderstand.Grüberpointed.‘They’regivingthemselvescover.’Lalinclookedagainandsawtheflatkillzoneswerenowaconfusedlandscapeoficeandcraterfields.Atthatmomentathinwhitecloudappearedintheblueoftheskyabovethem.Within seconds there were fifteen, twenty contrails arrowing down towardsthem. Grüber nodded to Lalinc, and the alarm was sounded, orders repeated,prayers said to the Golden Throne. ‘Cadia stands!’ Grüber shouted, and thewarcry was echoed from trench to trench as the Hydras and Sabre weaponplatformsopenedupwithstreamsoftracersburningliquidredlinesintothesky.AthrillwentthroughthethousandsofGuardsmen.AfterahundreddaysintheburninghellofCadia,Faith’sAnchorageseemedhardbutclean.Thefirstdroppodsimpacted.Asthepetaldoorsslammeddown,ahailofmissilesandbolterfire hosed out in all directions.The effect on theCadianswasminimal, but itforcedthemtokeeptheirheadsdownasthesecondwaveofdroppodshit;andthistimethegiantfiguresofRenegadeAstartesleapedoutintheirsuitsofpowerarmour, their once-proud livery of black andwhite quarters nowdefacedwithhereticalsymbolsandcarvings.

SanctionedPsykerRuutstoodwiththecommandsquadofFifthBastion,onthenorthsideofthebase.BehindthemsatthemetalbulkoftheBaneblade,Pugilist.

Ruut could feel the fear of themen, the anticipationof battle. Itwas a heady,almost overpowering sensation as the psychic tension rose to the ultimatepitches,andthentheshootingstartedandhefeltthereliefandfocusofthemenabouthimstarttotingleinhistoesandfingertips.‘Areyouwell?’Ivannsaid.‘Well,’Ruutresponded.Ivaan nodded. Itwas his job to shootRuut should the psyker show signs ofcorruption.Ivannhadshottwoofthelastthreepsykershe’dbeenassignedto.Itwas good practice to check in regularly. Corruption could come almostinstantaneously.Ifindoubt,hisinstructorhadalwaystoldhim,shoot.‘Doyouhavefaith?’Ivannsaid.Ruut swayed. ‘Faith in the Emperor,’ he responded as he felt the wave ofpsychicpowerbuildinginhim.Thenaturalinstinctofanuntrainedmindwastounleash one’s powers the minute a target presented itself. But Imperial-sanctioned psykers were not like wild men and shamans. They were as wellhonedasastandardissuebayonet,aswelldisciplinedasthetroopstheyservedwith.Theshootinggrewcloser.Ruutgroanedasheheldhispowerbackinsidehim.Adroppodhitfiftyyardstohisleft,thesuperheatedmetalmeltingaholeintheiceastheassaultrampsslammeddown.In an instant, there was a furious firefight as the men and women of Cadiaunleashed all they had on thewarriorswithin.A stormof las-bolts and heavybolter rounds pummelled the drop pod openings, but despite it all, from thesteamandsmokeandfumestenpower-armouredfiguresleapedout.One landed in a trenchwork, his upper torso visible as he slaughtered theunseen Guardsmen within. Another swung his flamer in a low, wide arc,incinerating more Cadians. A third knelt and singled out the bastion’scommanderfromhisshoulderepaulettes.‘Sir. Look out!’ one of the command squad shouted, pushing the captainsideways,andtheroundhitthemanbehindhim,sprayingredacrossthebackofthetrench.

TheBanebladeMachariusStarcoveredthesouthernapproaches,wherethemenof the combined 34th, 98th, 664th and 2003rd Cadians drove the attackingTraitorMarinesbackintothecraterfields.Aferociousfirefightstrobedtheice.As the Cadians’ heavy-weapons teams were engaged, the tanks of the enemy

rolledforward.‘Predator,’ the chief gunner, Ruslan, reported. He could see its turret, justpeeking above an ice shelf, the twinned lascannons traversing as it lined up ashotatthem.‘Krak,’ he ordered, and the long, pointed, anti-tank shell was slid into thebreechoftheBaneblade’smainbattlecannon.Therewasaslamofmetalandthelowsqueakofthelockingmechanism,andthenhefired.Thewholetankshookwithrecoil.It tookamomentforhimtozeroinagain.Theshellhadtakenthetopofftheicebank,butitlookedliketheenemyvehiclehad escaped. He panned round, looking for another target as the foredeckDemolishercannonfired,andtheforegunnerteamwhooped.‘Gotthem!’Yuryshouted.‘Welldone!’Ruslancalleddowntohim.Yuryhadstartedthewarasapowderboy,andnowhewasabettergunnerthanRuslanhimself.Aslongashekepthiscool.‘Lookforthenextonenow.Keepfocused.’Ruslansightedasquadronofbikesracingtowardsthem.Therewerethree,thesidecargunnersengagingthebastionalongsidethem.The riders had not seen the Baneblade’s turret swing towards them. It wasalmosttooeasy.‘Ready?’Ruslancalled.Hewassoeagerforakill.‘Ready!’histeamreplied.Ruslandidnotwaitforasecondlongerandfired.Therecoilthrewthembackoncemore.The ice erupted in a blizzard of snow. When it cleared there was a craterscatteredwithdarkscrapsofburningwreckage.‘Kill,’heconfirmed.‘Allthreeofthem!’Therewasacheerfromtheforeandaftgunteams.‘About time you lot helped,’ Daniil called out from the port sponson. Hislascannon had been jamming on Cadia and he’d spent the entire journeystrippingthegunmountingsdownandfittingitallbacktogether.Ruslan felt magnanimous now that he’d got his first kill in. ‘How’s thelascannonmoving?’heshoutedashepannedforanothertarget.‘Verynicely,’Daniilcalledback.Therewasaflashasthelascannonfired.‘Youshouldaskthatfrekkingpower-armouredgiant…’hesaid.‘Oh,butyoucan’t,Ijustshothisheadoff.’Daniilswunghisweaponmountingsround,andthentherewasasuddenflashandbang,andthechamberwasfilledwithfumes.‘What the hell?’ Yury shouted, but they all knew what had happened, evenbeforethesmokeclearedandLeonidpulledDaniil’sbodyfromhisseat.Daniil’sclotheswereburnedandsmoking.Hiswholerightsidewasredandraw,theskin

burnedaway.He flopped sideways, his head chiming a low, dull note on the Baneblade’smetal hull. ‘Dead,’Leonid said.HedraggedDaniil’s body to the back, by themagazine.‘Did it overheat?’ Ruslan called down, and Yury bent and waved away thesmoke.Hesawthelascannontriggeratthesametimethathesawtheneat,roundholethathadbeenblastedthroughtheBaneblade’sfour-inchceramitehull.Hewasabouttospeakwhenagrenadewasthrownthroughthehole.‘Grenade!’Hisshoutgaveeveryoneamoment’swarning.Itwasnot enough.The explosion filled theBanebladewith a stormofmetalfragments.ThesmokewasstillclearingwhenRuslansawaleg.Hehadnoideaif it was his. He was still dragging himself up from the floor when heavyfootstepsrangoutonthetopofthetank.Theyseemedalmostcasualastheystrodetothebackofthegreattankandthenstopped. Ruslan suddenly understood. The figure was standing above themagazine.Hepanickedforamoment,thensawthathisgunteamhadclosedthemagazinedoors.‘Thank theThrone,’he thought,as thesilencewentona fewseconds longer.The magazine was heavily reinforced with layers of ceramite and ablativeshielding.Itwouldtakea–Themulti-meltatorethroughtheinchesofshieldingasiftheywerewetpaper.MachariusStarwasthefirstBanebladetodiethatday.

SanctionedPsykerRuutwas crouching in the angleof the trench.Hekepthisheadlow.Theairabovehimsizzledwithozone.Las-boltshissedastheyhitthesnow. The bark of bolters was constant. His pistol remained holstered. Hisfingerstensedandstretched.Hefeltthepowerreadywithinhim.‘Whereisyourfaith?’Ivannhissed.Hismentorwasjustbehindhim.‘IntheEmperor,’Ruutsaid.He could feel them coming towards him. Cadians were backing down thetrench,theirlasriflesattheirshoulders,ready.Suddenly they flew backwards, mass-reactive shells jerking their bodies likemarionettes.Theicewallsdrippedwithgobbetsofhumanflesh.TherewaswetonRuut’sface.Hewipeditoff,sawbloodonhissleeve.Hehadseenworse.‘Ready?’Ruutsaid.Ivannnodded.

‘Right,’Ruutsaid.‘Let’sgoforit.’Thesanctionedpsykersteppedforward.Downthestretchofthetrenchablack-and-white-armouredSpaceMarinewasstridingtowardshim.Thetrenchreachedonlyashighashisabdomen.Inonefisthecarriedamassivebolter,adrippingchainaxeintheother.ThebladebuzzedashecametowardsRuut.The lookof theenemywas like thatofa lionon itsprey, taking inall that itneeds to know in an instant. It lifted its boltgun andpressed the trigger downlongenoughforthreemass-reactiveboltstofire.Thespentbrassshellsflewleft,acrossthepathoftheSpaceMarine,asthebolterexploded.It had taken just a finger of Ruut’s psychic force to plug the barrel of theboltgun. It was a trick he’d used before. Surprise gave him a moment’sadvantage.TheSpaceMarinekeptstridingforward.Ifhewasatallperturbedhedidnotshowit.Hecasuallydroppedhisbolter,drewhisboltpistol,gunnedhischainaxetofull,andacceleratedintoarun.Ruutbracedhisfeetintothetrampledice.Heenvisagedafistofsteelintheairabouthim.Heputupahand,closedhiseyesandsentthatfiststraighttowardshisfoe.Hispowerpropelleditforward,asabreathofwindwillliftafeatherinthe air and carry it along. It hit the Renegade full in the chest, went straightthroughpowerarmour,boneandoneof itshearts,cameout theothersideandburieditselfthirtyfeetintotheice.Ruutfeltitspower.Heopenedhiseyes,sawthechainaxedescend.

Ruut’sbloodsprayedoverIvann’sfaceastheminderfelloverhimselfinhorror.TheSpaceMarineturnedandcaughthimbythefoot.Ivannkickedandsquirmed.Hefiredhislaspistolandhit.Hemusthavehit,butthethingseemedimmune.Throne!Ithadafist-shapedholethroughitschest.IvannthrashedastheSpaceMarinedraggedhimuptoitshelmet.ItliftedhimhighenoughtobringIvann’sfacerightuptotheSpaceMarine’sfaceplate.‘Are you frightened, little man?’ the Renegade hissed in a voice that waschillinglyquiet.Ivannlostcontrolofhisbowels.‘Howcanyoustilllive?’heasked,staringatthegorethatdrippedfromtheholeinthething’schest.‘BecauseIwantvengeance,’theSpaceMarinehissed,andwithasuddenjerkofhispower-armouredfisthesnappedIvann’sneck.

SIXGRÜBER’SLASTSTAND

Onthewestsideofthebase,wherethekitchenblockmetthesunkenhabs,thesurvivorsoffifteenregimentsfacedoffagainstahordeofhowlingcultistsandmechslaves that had been harvested from Agripinaa’s hive forges when theplanethadbeendestroyed.Thecultistschargedbarefootacrosstheiceandweremowndownastheycaughtonthelinesofbarbedwire.But theywere just the first assault. Behind them came industrialmechslavespumpedfullofstimms,theirdata-coilsreplacedwithasearinglitanyofheresyandChaosbile.Itsenttheirlobotomisedmindsintoastateoffrenzy.A single platoon ofCadian ShockTroopers held the front trench.A Sons ofMalicekillsquadturnedtheirflank,sotheyfellbacktotheAegisdefenceline.The first line knelt as the second fired over their heads, and the third linereloaded.Their lieutenanthadlostanarmonCadia,buthe’dtaughthimself toshootleft-handed.‘Firstrank!’heshouted,andasalvoofshotsstabbedout.‘Secondrank!’Andagain,theshotsscythedintotheenemy.‘Thirdrank!’Themechslavesscrambledoverthebarbedwire.TheyleapedthefronttrenchandchargedtowardstheAegiswithalltheferocityofarco-flagellants.Themenheld their line. ‘Fire at will!’ The order went out when the mechslaves were

twentyfeetoff,andthelieutenantloweredhisboltpistolandfired,hittingoneinthechestandblowingitsfrailfactorumbodyapart.The first mechslave attacked the metal Aegis, its buzz-saw throwing yellowsparks into theair.A las-round to theheart stilled the thing,butmoreof themweregainingtheline.TheCadiansweremowingtheinsanecreaturesdown,butit was not enough. Even the wounded bounded and skidded on their ownentrails.Onlydeathcouldstopthem.Theycameforwardinablizzardofrazor-scythes,forge-hammersandpain-lashes.The line of Cadians held firm. Not one man flinched, even as the tide ofmechslavestoreintothem,andthefirst,secondandthirdlinesdisappearedinasprayofred.

Ontheeastsideof thecompound, the lineofwreckedArvus lightersgave theheavy-weaponsteamsabroadfieldoffireoverthetopofthetrenchanddefencelinenetworks.There the eliteCadians drove the assault back three times, leaving a field ofburning tanksanddyingcultists.As thedayworeon theenemywithdrew,butnoneoftheCadianswasfooled.Thehereticshadjustbeentestingthem.Nowtheyknewtheirstrengthsandweaknesses.TheSonsofMalicehadbiddentheir time. They launched their assault under cover of dark, an armouredspearheadplunging straightover the trencheson thewest side, rightup to theline of stacked containers. The heretic tanks mowed heavy-weapons squadsdownbeneaththeirtracks,whilestragglerswerecutdownwithchainswordandaxebeforelas-boltsdrovethemback.The surviving Cadians were pushed back towards the central habs, whereGrüberstood,swordinhand.‘Wecannothold!’Lalincshouted.His leftarmwas inacrudesling,buthe’ddrawnhischainsword.‘Wewillhold,’Grübertoldhim,buthe’dknownthatthismomentwouldcome.‘Tome!’heshouted,andgatheredhiskasrkinabouthim.In thedarkness, las-bolts flashed.Grübermarchedout, bellowing thewarcry,‘Cadiastands!’

ThekasrkinshieldedthebodyofGeneralGrüberwiththeirown.Their hellguns flashed a bright orange, but many of them were armed withplasma and melta. Their unerring aim punished the enemy; when the cultistscharged, theyweremetwithawallof flame.Thekasrkinheld theirgroundas

the fiercestmade it to their line.Therewas a furioushand-to-hand struggle, abrutal combat decided by bayonets and knives, rifle-butts and courage. Afterwhatseemedanage,thecultistswithdrew,draggingtheirwoundedwiththem.‘Havewewon?’someoneasked,confused.Grüberlaughed.‘Notuntilwe’vekilledtheRenegadeAstartes.Untilwemeetthemtherewillbenovictory.’

As dawn came, the survivors could see the cost of the night’s fighting. Theirwesterndefenceshadbeenoverrun, the trenches filledwith thebodiesof theirenemies.Grüber reorganised his defences. The doorways of the central hab werebarricaded, each room andwindowmade defensible. The cultist attacks cameagain and again, interspersed with bombardment from space. The void shieldlasted for twodaysbefore thegeneratoroverheated and therewasnothing thetech-priestscoulddo.Thenthebasewassubjectedtoamaelstromoflanceandbombardmentcannon.Atthesametime,wavesofcultistschargedagainstthem.Mist roseas thebombardmentmelted the ice.When it seemed that therewasnothing worse to come, the onslaught ended, and the handful of stunned andscattered survivors crawled out of the ruins of the hab-block and trenches,lookedskywardsandsaw– inall its terrorandmagnificence–anotherorbitalassault.ChaoswarbandsthathadbeenscouringtheAgripinaaSectorflockedtoFaith’sAnchorage,eagertotaketheirshareinthespoils.Theyalljoinedintheattack.TheycameindroppodsandThunderhawks,andmore-ancientcraftofbrassandblack ceramite. There were warbands from the Sons of Slaughter, the BlackLegion, Crimson Slaughter and five other Legions. This time there was nocounter-fire. TheHydra gun platformswere in ruin, theBaneblades had beendestroyed,thesurvivorsofCadiadead.The assembled warbands strode forward in their armour of black and brass,blue and gold, dripping red, black andwhite. Theywere here towitness, andcelebrate, ten thousand years of struggle. It was a warrior from the Sons ofMalice who singledGeneral Grüber out. The SpaceMarine pointedwith onehand,while fromhisother shoulder ablack-suckered tentacle flickedabout it,likethetwitchofanirritatedfeline.‘Cadian,’hecalledout.‘Itisnottoolatetoturn.’Itstentaclemadeagestureoftaking in the assembled ring of Chaos Space Marines about them. ‘We all

started,asyou,defendingtheFalseEmperor.Ifyourenounceyourvows,Iwillspareyou.’GeneralGrüberstumbledtohisfeet.Hisvoicewasclearandstrong,despitethegashesthathadbeentornthroughhisbreastplate.Heignitedhispowerswordasthedreadfulmonsterstrodetowardshim.‘Never!’heshoutedashecharged.

SEVENPAXIMPERIALIS

GeneralBendiktstoodwithAdmirald’ArmitageonthebridgeoftheEmperor-classbattleshipPaxImperialis,andcountedtheenemycraft thatringedFaith’sAnchorage.There were five strike cruisers in the assorted colours of Renegade SpaceMarines, a black battle-barge and a number of modified escorts, their proudheraldrynowdefacedwiththesymbolsofheresy.‘Canwetakethem?’Bendiktasked.Theadmiralpursedhislipsandnodded.‘Yes,’hesaid.‘Ibelievewecan.’Bendikt felt a wave of responsibility upon his shoulders. He took in a deepbreathandthoughtofalltheothercommanderswhomightbehere–butmostofallofCreed.Hislosshadbeenthemostgrievous.BendiktwasunworthytoleadtheforcesofCadia,buttherewasnooneleft.‘Good,’hesaid.‘Thenlettheattackbegin.’

WithoutaNavigatorasableasHyppolytusFremm,theevacuationfleetandthesurvivingshipsofBattlefleetCadiahadbeenscatteredacrossthegalaxybythewarp.AbouthalfhadfollowedinthewakeoftheLord-LieutenantBerwicke,re-

enteringrealspaceinthefarreachesoftheAgripinaaSystem.Thewounded ships had gatheredwell beyond the elliptical orbit of far-flungUrath and the labour-rich Narsine, and proceeded cautiously into the system.Admiral d’Armitage had imposed strict silence on all ships and crews as hisdamagedcraftwentthroughnecessaryrepairsandrefitting.AssoonashisCobrascoutsreportedagatheringofhereticalshipswithin theorbitofAgripinaaandMorten’s Quay, he’d ordered his fleet to move forward at dead slow and tomaintainvoid-silence.Bythetimed’ArmitageandBendiktweresurveyingtheChaosfleet,alifetimeof traininghadreasserted itselfand theforcesofCadiawereeager foranotherfight.Achancetoprovethemselves.Bendiktwouldgivethemthat,hepromised.

TheGrand Alliance led Battlefleet Cadia forward, her entire complement offightersandbomberssittingon theflightdecks, ready togo.Thehereticshipshad been so focused on destroying Grüber that they only suddenly saw, withhorror and alarm, that another, much larger Cadian fleet was sailing towardsthem.Oneachbridge, theheretic skeleton crews left behindwerepresentedwith adesperatechallenge:toengageortoflee.Eachofthecaptainsonboardrespondedaccordingtotheirownpriorities.Forsome, itwasa chance to seizecontrolof avaluablevoid-craft;others saw theImperialfleetandknewthattheforcesthathadmetontheiceworldofFaith’sAnchoragewouldbelostwithoutthem.But none of the choiceswere good. Itwas just amatter of picking the leastworst from a range of options. The Hades-class heavy cruiser Tears of Hatejabbed forward, attempting to engage the lead Imperial shipswith her deadlybroadsidesandslow themdown.Her slaveguncrewswerehauling the lastofher vast shells into the breech when she was struck squarely on the armour-platednosebyanovacannonshotfromtheGoldenFarrel,aLunar-classcruiser.Theshotdetonatedwithincrediblepower,rippingtheTearsofHateapart.Inaninstant,ninethousandliveswerelost:BlackLegion,heretics,cultistsandslaves.The void did not care. As the two fleets closed the heretics began to exact agrowing toll on theweakened Imperial craft.Assault torpedoeswere launchedacross the void, with Cadians storming Chaos ships and Black Legion killsquads fighting theirway through to the enginariums, bridges and void-shieldgenerators,anddisablingthemwithaseriesofwell-laidmeltabombs.Theskiesabovethesmallmoonwerethickwithflashesoffireandsmoke,as

debrisbegantoraindownonFaith’sAnchorage.Inthemidstofitall,theGrandAlliance’sflightcrewstoregapingholesintheenemycraft,butsheherselfwasrakedbyapairofbroadsidesthatleftherlistingtoportandunabletosteer.HercoursedroveherstraightintothemiddleoftheChaosfleet,whereshewassetuponwithmercilessfury.Therewerefights inalmostevery landingbayasthe heretics sought to seize control of the Imperial flagship. It was only thesuddeninterventionofaleangreyhunterthatsavedher.WheretheSpaceWolvesstrikecruiserStiklestadcamefrom,noonecouldtell,but suddenly she appeared between the two ships and took the broadside thatwasmeanttofinishofftheGrandAllianceonhervoidshields,andthenretortedwith abroadsideof her own, crippling theburningSlaughter-class cruiser, theHandofAbaddon.The battle was deadly and bloody. Bit by bit the Chaos fleet was broken,destroyedorboarded, the fewsurvivors fleeingsunwards, latearrivalsquicklyturningback.

After eight hours of relentless Naval fighting, the Chaos forces on Faith’sAnchorage faced the same predicament that Grüber’s small force had beforethem.The Imperials held space above them, andFaith’sAnchoragewas to betheirgrave.Admiral d’Armitage led his fleet forward and they unleashed a devastatingbarrageuponthemoon.‘We could destroy it,’ he said, as the green light of the holo-pict underlit hisface.‘Don’t,’Bendiktsaid.‘Allowmymentheopportunitytotakerevenge.’‘Howmanydoyouhave?’Bendiktpaused.‘Enough,’hesaid.‘Thinkyoucouldtakeouttheforcesonthemoon?’Bendiktsmiled.‘Iamsureofit.’D’Armitage bowed. ‘GeneralBendikt.My landers are at your disposal. Takerevengeforusall.’

EIGHTNEWCADIA

It took twoweeks for theCadian ShockTroops underBendikt’s command toscourFaith’sAnchorageclearofanyheretic trace.GeneralGrüber’sbodywasfound,andhewasburiedinacolossalmarblemausoleum,all thedefendersofFaith’sAnchoragelaidoutinaneat,starlitgraveyardabouthim.ThreeCobraswereselectedtomakethejourneytoHolyTerra,tobringnewsoftheCadianGate’sfall,whileplanetbyplanetthewholeAgripinaaSystemwascleansedof theenemy, theNaval facilitiesofAurentandMorten’sQuaywerereturned to production, and the proud ships ofBattlefleet Cadiawere broughtbacktofullstrength.BendiktletitbeknownthatChaeros,theseventhplanetinthesystem,wouldhenceforthbeknownasNewCadia.TheSpaceWolvesoftheStiklestaddidnothelpinthiseffort,buttheydidsenda lander across to theGrandAlliance: a sleek grey arrow that filled themainlandingbayonthelowerportside.Once the ship was near docking, General Bendikt and Admiral d’Armitagecame down to meet it. Neither of them felt entirely comfortable. The SpaceWolveshadacertainreputation,andahumancouldnotmeetamemberof theAdeptusAstarteswithoutatremoroffearrunningthroughthem,especiallyafterthelastmonths,whentheyhadfacedtheterrorofSpaceMarineswhohadlost

theirway.The Space Wolves Thunderhawk slowly filled the rectangular mouth of thelandingbayandseemedtobarelyscrapeinside.Ittoucheddownwithahissastheincredibleweightofthecraftsettledslowlyonthedampeners.Theloadingrampsloweredandthenthecarriageclampsdisengaged,andtheThunderhawkbegantoriseintotheair,leavingacargocontainerbehind.D’Armitage and Bendikt exchanged glances as the Thunderhawk turned andpoweredoutofthelandingbay.‘Isitsafe?’d’Armitagedemanded.Bendikt ordered his kasrkin squad forward to investigate, but as theyapproachedittwofiguresappearedfrombehindthecargocontainer.TheywerebothdressedinCadiandrab.

‘CaptainRathSturm,’thefirstdeclaredashemadethesignoftheaquila.‘LastsurvivingmemberoftheCadian94th,Kasrkin,theBrothersofDeath.’Bendiktsalutedhimandturnedtothegirl.‘WhiteshieldArminkaLesk,KasrMyrakDefenceForce.’‘TheSpaceWolvescarriedyoufromtheplanet?’Bendiktasked.Itwasthegirlwhospoke.‘Yes,sir.’‘Andtheybroughtyouhere?’The two soldiers nodded, and the girl said, ‘Sir, Lord General, there issomethingwemust showyou.’ She led him to the back of the vast container.Frominsidecamethescentofearthandrock.Bendikt lookedat the thing thatlay cushioned there. It was grey and smooth and riddled with holes. It wasintimatelyfamiliartoanyonewhohadbeenonCadia.‘Impossible,’Bendiktsaid,buthesteppedupontotheramp,walkedinsideandputhishandtoitsside.Thestonewasdeadandcoldandstill.ButitwasfromCadia.‘YoubroughtapylonfromCadia?’Bendiktsaid.Theynodded.‘Yes,sir.’‘Wemustmake amemorial of it,’ he said. ‘Wemust never forgetwherewecamefrom.’Minkanodded.Hereyeswerehard.‘Never,’shepromisedhim.Never.

EPILOGUEPAXIMPERIALIS

MinkasitsonherbunkandturnsherWhiteshieldhelmetinherhands.Inaceremonythismorningshewaspromotedwiththeothersurvivingcadets.SheisaCadianShockTrooper,eventhoughherplanetnolongerexists.Theyareveteranwarriors,oncourseforHolyTerra.Thisisallshehadeverwanted,she thinks, as the troop ship prepares to enter the warp. To leave home. Tograduatefromthecadets.TofightfortheEmperor.TheironbulkheadsrattleastheGellerfieldgeneratorpowersup.Alowwhinefillsthetroophangar.Rathislyingonthebunkaboveher.Heissmokingalho-stick.Themetalbedcreaksasheturnsover.Hepeersdown,hisaugmeticeyeglowingred.‘Getsomesleep,’hesays.Shenods.‘Howlongwillittake?’Hisheadappearsagain.‘What?’‘Thetransition?’Rathlaughs.‘Whoknows,’hesays,lyingback.‘Wemightnevergetthere.’Minkaknows theywill.She liesbackandcloseshereyes,and foramomentsheisachildagain,staringintotheEyeofTerror.Herfatherholdsherup,andsheshoutsatthesky,andthemomentisover.

Heputsherbackdown,putshishandsonher shouldersandkissesherhead.‘Doyouhavefaith,mychild?’Shenods.‘Sayit!’heurges.Shespeaksthewords.‘IhavefaithintheEmperor.’Minkaopenshereyes.Shehasseen theSaint.Shehas faith.Theywill reachHolyTerra.‘We’llgetthere,’shesays.Rathsaysnothingforawhile.Hetakesanotherlho-stickfromhisbreastpocketandlightsit,puffsbluesmokeintotheair,takesadrag.‘Great,’hesaysatlast.Minkaliesbackasthealarmsbegintoring.Thereisalurchastheshiptransitsinto the warp, and she feels bile rise and swallows it back. It is just warpsickness. Itwill pass. In amonth or two, theywill arrive at the centre of theImperiumofMan.Abattlehasbeenlost,butthefightwillstillgoon.Shestaresupat thebunkaboveher,whereRath’sshape is imprinted throughthemattress.Minkalookstothefuture.Sheseesonlywar.

ABOUTTHEAUTHOR

JustinDHillistheauthoroftheSpaceMarineBattlesnovelStormofDamoclesandtheWarhammer40,000shortstories‘LastStepBackwards’,‘LostHope’and‘TheBattleofTyrokFields’,followingtheadventuresofLordCastellanUrsarkarE.Creed,aswellas‘TruthIsMyWeapon’.For

Warhammerhehaswrittenthetales‘Golgfag’sRevenge’and‘TheBattleofWhitestone’.

AnextractfromShroudofNight.

Thewarpchurned.Itragedandroiled.Stormsofwrath tore throughtatteredveilsoffateandfalsehood,splitting theskinof reality.Etherealabominationshowled theirhunger to thevoid, twiningtheir kaleidoscopic tendrils between the stars.Real spacemet the immateriumalong interstitial fault lines,convulsingwithaviolence that shattered timeandsetreasonablazefromoneendofthegalaxytotheother.Somewhereamidst themadnesshungaworld.Above it, inorbit,a fleet.Thespacecraft were ornate, buttressed gothic monsters whose hulls flowed andtwistedinshapesbothelegantandhideous.Oneamongstthemwaslargerthantherest,agrotesqueryofburnishedgoldandfleshypurple.UponitsflanksthebattleshipborethetalonedwingoftheEmperor’sChildren.Belowtheemblemwasaname.HeraldofPain.

On the warship’s twisted bridge, its master of auguries knelt in supplicationbeforehislord.Hehadbeenbornefromthechamberofsilveredmirrorsuponanornatewalking-carriage,butthoughslavesandchampionsalikehadclearedhispathwiththeireyesdowncast,stillhefeltonlyfear.Oneamongstthecovenofscryersurgeonshadhadtoconveynewsofthebattleupontheplanetbelow.Thatunpleasantdutyhadfallentohim.‘The auguries in flesh were clear, my lord.We saw through the lens of thescreamingveilallthattranspiredbelow.Theyarealldead.’Themaster of augurieswas a hunched creature, swathed in perfumed robes,bent double beneath the weight of the metal fetishes that pierced his flesh.Before the unwavering gaze of his masked and armoured lord, the lumpencreaturecoweredlowerstill.Whenhespoke,LordExcrucias theFlawless’voiceslitheredfromthe lipsofhisgildedmaskinasilkenwhisper.Stillitcarriedtothefurthestcornersofthe

cavernousbridge.‘If our enemies are slain, thenwhy do you grovel so?Was it an…untidy…victory?’Excrucias’ thoughts turnedtohisgoldenflensingkniveswitha tingleofanticipation.Theywouldhavedelightfulworktodo,ifhisservantshadmadeahashofhiselegantbattleplans.‘No,mylord.’‘Thenwhat?’hissedExcrucias.‘Reticenceisaflaw.’Themasterofauguriesflinched.Hegatheredhimselfbeforereplying.‘Mylord.Someofourenemieswereslain.Notall. It isourwarriorswho liedead.’Silence fell across the bridge of theHerald of Pain. Gold-armoured ChaosSpaceMarines stood statue-still, watching with avid excitement. Cultist crewandslave-mutantshaltedmid-sentence, leavingastrogationreadingsunfinishedand vox exchanges hanging. Even the captives locked within danglingexcruciation-cagesturnedtheirscreamstowhimpers.Onlythedistantrumbleofthe ship’s drives and the mindless binharic babble of servitors disturbed thequiet.‘Allofthem…?’askedExcrucias.‘Yes, lord,’ replied the master of auguries. The creature abased itself beforeExcrucias’livingthrone,veiledfacepressedtothedecking.‘How?’‘Theenemy,lord.Theyhadtraps.Defences.Theyfoughtlikedaemons.’‘Truly,’ whispered Excrucias. ‘You assured me that your scryer surgeonsdetectedbutthirty-onesoulsonthatworld.Idespatchedtwohundredwarriorstoeffecttheirsacrifice.TherewereTerminatorsamongstourranks.Thebattlewastolastseventeenminutesandthirty-twoseconds,nolonger.Instead,ithasbeenmorethananhoursinceIgavetheordertoattack.Andyousaythatthesethirty-oneenemies…slewthemall?’‘Yes,lord,’whimperedthemutant.‘Howmanyofthesemysteriousfoesdidwekillinreturn?’askedExcrucias.‘We believe…perhaps half…’Themaster of auguries’ voicewas littlemorethanacroak.‘Fascinating…’saidExcrucias,runninghistonguedelicatelyalongtheserratededge of his mask’s lips. His armour hummed as he rose from his squirmingthrone.Excrucias’sorcerer,PhelkorianTwyst,detachedhimselffromtheshadowofthethrone and lumbered in his wake. Phelkorian’s body was encased in a gem-

encrustedsuitofpowerarmour,butthecowlofhisrubberisedcloakdidlittletohide the bloated mass of tentacles and fangs that was his face. Gasping wet,eagerbreaths,thesorcererjoinedhismasteratthemarblerailingofExcrucias’commanddais.Before them, looming large in thebridge’sprimaryvid-screen,wastheplanetofBloodforge.‘It looks like ablindedeye,’pantedPhelkorian fromhis lamprey-likemouth.‘As though our divinemistress slipped a needle into one of the BloodGod’svacantorbs.’Excruciasletslipamurmurofagreement,staringintentlyattheplanetbelow.Two hundred, slain by just thirty-one. He should feel anger, he supposed.Instead, he was fascinated. Oh, his knives would taste blood, of course,pleasurableofferingscutfromhislivingfleshandgiventoSlaaneshtoatoneforthisfailure.Butstill,anopportunitypresenteditself.‘Preparetheteleportarium,’orderedExcrucias.Oneofhisattendantchampionsslammedafisttohisbreastplateinsalute.‘I shall bear your orders, my lord,’ he barked eagerly. ‘I beg the honour ofleadingthenextattackformyselfandmyKakophanarii.’Excruciasgaveaslightshakeofhishead.‘No,Gaiuss.Igoalone.’‘Mylord?’saidPhelkorian,tentaclessquirminginagitation.‘Isthatadvisable?Whoever theyare, theycutdownLukianandhisWrithe-kin likedogs.Not tomention that we are deepwithin the Eye. Teleportation has its risks. Pridefulvictoryisanactofworship,butarrogance…’‘…isaflaw,’finishedExcrucias.‘Iknow.Preparetheteleportarium.’The slighted champion saluted oncemore and strode away.Excrucias placedonefleshmetalpalmuponthepommelofhissword.Hecaressed theweapon’shilt,andtheentitywithinitcroonedsoftly.‘Ensurethatthemagiarereadytoextractmeatamoment’snotice,Phelkorian,’hesaid.‘Ofcourse,my lord,’ replied thesorcerer. ‘AndIshallgathermymagicks, incasetheyarerequired,’headdedwithrelish.‘Asyouwill,’murmuredExcrucias,beforegesturingtothemasterofaugurieswhostillgrovelledbeforehisthrone.‘Asforthat,itisflawed.I’venofurtheruseforit.’Themasterofauguriesletoutapiteouswailandscrambledtohisfeet,butwithasorcerousgesture,Phelkorianfrozehiminplace.Excruciasstrodefromthebridge,leavinghissorcererleeringdelightedlyover

theweepingmutant.

Excrucias’ senses sang as an empyric tempest raged around him. Hisconsciousnessexpandedwhilerealitywheeleddizzyingly.Forasplitsecondhefeltthefeather-lighttouchofquestingtendrilsandrakingclawsuponhisflesh,hismind,hissoul.Then,withanear-splittingcrack,herematerialiseduponthesurface of Bloodforge. Kaleidoscopic lightning danced around the Chaos lordbeforeflickeringawayintonothingness.Excrucias stood in a place of deep and profound silence, amidst thetumbledownruinsofwhatlookedtohaveoncebeenamightyfortress.Theskyabove was the colour of cataracts, streaked by wisps of blood-hued cloud. Asallow breeze hissed fitfully through hollow archways and over crumbledramparts,rattlinggritagainsthisarmourplates.Thequietwassepulchral.Slowly and deliberately Excrucias took in his surroundings, leaving hisweapons sheathed. He had teleported down close to his warriors’ initial dropcoordinates,andhadaclearviewofthedevastationtheyhadtriggered.Rubbleand corpses were scattered on every side, littering an area cratered andblackenedbytheaftermathofmultipledetonations.Thebodiesworethepurpleandgoldpower armourofEmperor’sChildren, or else the tattered remainsofSlaaneshicultrobesandmasks.Dozenshaddiedhere.Excruciastastedtracesoffisiliteandmagnitoriandet-chemsupontheair,alongwithburnedbloodandthedust of shrapnel-torn stone. His unnaturally sharp senses suggested that hiswarriorshad teleporteddirectly into themidstof aminefieldconstructed fromshort-fused demolisher shells. The size of the craters and the condition of thecorpsesreinforcedhissupposition.Throughmagic,or technology,or someothermeans,his enemieshadknownprecisely where his warriors would deploy, and had managed to salvage theordnancefortheirtrap,insuchableakanddesolateplace.Intriguing.Excrucias set off through the bolt-cratered ruins, following a trail of hiswarriors’sprawledbodies.Some,henoted,hadbeenriddledwithshellsorhadtheir armour rent open by detonations. Others lay with neat holes punchedthroughtheeye-piecesoftheirhelmswheresniperroundshadfoundtheirmark.Hetastedahotchpotchofpropellantsandalchemicaltracesupontheair,somesostrangethatevenhecouldn’tplacetheirorigin.Cultistssprawledinbloodyheaps,blade-slainortornopenlikefleshyflowers.Sections of stonework and pillars were deformed and blown apart by sonic

bombardmentwherehisfollowersappearedtohavefiredwideoftheirmarks.Whoevertheenemywere,theyhadchannelledhisforcesintokillingzonesincourtyardsandalleyways.Booby trapshadbroughtdownhighstone ramparts,crushing the faithful of Slaanesh. In one broad and lonely square, Excruciasfoundadeeppit,whichhadevidentlybeenconcealedinsomefashionuntiltheTerminatorsoftheWrithe-kinstrodeacrossit.Theircorpseslayatthebottom,half-dissolvedbyacidicoozethatstillbubbledandpoppedasitateawayatceramiteandflesh.Excrucias moved cautiously, straining his keen senses for threats, but at thesame timehefelthis fascinationandexcitementgrow.Thisenemyhadpickedaparthiswarriorswithefficiencyandinvention.Yetstillhedidn’tseeasingleslain foe.Perhapshalf, themasterofaugurieshadclaimed.Where, then,werethebodies?Hereand there,Excruciasnoted scuffmarks andblood trails, tell-talesuggestionsthatpower-armouredcorpseshadbeenhastilyremoved.‘Yourverysecrecygivesyouaway,’hemurmured.‘Notentirely,’cameavoicetoExcrucias’left.‘No,’cameanotherfromhisright.‘I’dsayitkeptushiddenjustlongenough.Wouldn’tyou,brothers?’‘Yes,’ came a third, rumbling voice to Excrucias’ rear. The Slaaneshi lordstoppeddead,givingaslightsighasmultiple lockwarningschimedinhisear.Carefullyhelookedleftandright,seeingbulky,armouredfiguresslippingfromtheshadowswiththeirgunspointedathim.Astheyadvanced,theysweptasidethecameleolinecloaksthathadconcealedthem,andExcruciassawmetallicbluearmourthatconfirmedhissuspicions.AlphaLegion.ThewarriorsnowflankingExcruciaswereunhelmed,andtheirfacialfeatureswere remarkablyalike.Bothpossessedhigh,noblebrows, strong jaws, shavedscalpsandquick,sharpeyes.Onehadslit-likepupilsofdeepjadegreen,whiletheother’s armourwas festoonedwithwhat appeared tobe the salvaged toolsfromaTechmarine’sservoharness.Thewargearofbothwarriorswaswornandbattered,theirarmourapatchworkofscavengedandrepaintedplates.Excrucias’ownarmourshonebycomparison.Hewasagodagainsttheseraggedghosts.Andyettheyhadconfoundedevenhisexceptionalsensesandsurroundedhim.Itwasanimpressivedisplay.He hissed as he felt the muzzle of some large firearm thump him none toogentlyintheback.‘Don’ttryanythingclever,’camethatthirdvoicefrombehind.‘Thesearen’tthe

onlygunstrainedonyou.’‘It’dbeashametospoilallthatprettygoldarmour,’saidtheonewiththetools,disdainfully.‘Exceptthatuglydamnmask.Youcankeepthat.’‘Kassarwantstotalktoyou,’saidtheAlphaLegionnairewiththesnake’seyes.‘Andwhois…Kassar?’askedExcrucias,earninghimselfanothershovefromthegunmuzzleathisback.‘He’s someone who wants to talk to you,’ said its owner. ‘As we said. So,move.Forwardupthatalley,andkeepyourhandswherewecanseethem.Youdon’twanttotryforyourweapons.Really.’Despitehispredicament,Excruciaswascalm.He feltno indignationatbeingspokentoinsuchafashion,regardlessthatnolivingthinghaddaredtodosoinmany longcenturies.He feltonlyagrowingcertainty thathis suspicionswerecorrect.

Excrucias wasmarched at gunpoint through the ruins to a partially collapsedmausoleum, and ushered through its tumbled entrance into a chamber lit byflickering lamps. Kassar awaited him, leant casually against an ancient tombfashionedfromsomesquamousblacksubstance.Hisfacialfeaturesechoedthoseofhisbrothers,saveforalong,tightscarthatranuponecheekandoverhisrighteye. A short-shaved mohawk clung to his scalp, but he bore no otherdistinguishing features of rank or seniority. Despite this, Excrucias sensedKassar’s quiet authority at once.Here,without a doubt,was the leader of thisstrangewarband.Excrucias’guardsmotionedhimtostandbeforetheirleader.Thethreeofthem,including thebigbrutewhoseheavybolterhadnudgedExcrucias in theback,spreadoutandkepttheirweaponstrainedonhim.Kassarwasrunningaclothalongtheblackbladeofanornatesword,andashesettheweaponasideExcrucias’eyeswidenedinrecognition.ThereactionwasnotlostonKassar,whoobservedhisguestwithhoodedeyes.‘Youknowthissword?’heasked.‘It… belonged to one of my most… accomplished champions,’ hissedExcrucias.‘Sethriel.Severalcenturiesago.’Kassargaveagruntofacknowledgement.‘I remember him,’ he said. ‘I remember all the warriors I’ve killed, but hestandsout.Goodfighter,swiftasair,gavemethisscar.Possessed?’‘NotSethriel,’saidExcruciassoftly.Hiseyesdriftedtotheblade.‘You’rewonderingwhy it hasn’t takenme theway it did him,’ saidKassar.

‘Thethingboundintothisblade.’‘TheHexling,’noddedExcrucias.‘Itisa…persuasive…entity.’‘It tried,’ said Kassar. ‘It failed. Is that why you’re here? Sethriel and hissword?’‘Sethrielandhiswarriorsare theoriginalreasonIcameto thisplace,’repliedExcrucias.Hewondered howmuch he should divulge; howmuch theymightalreadyknow.TheAlphaLegion,itwassaid,hadtheirways.‘DoyouknowthelegendofBloodforge?’heaskedinstead.TheAlphaLegionnairewiththetoolssnortedalaugh.‘Knowit,yourgoldengrace?We’vebeenlivingitformorethanthreehundredyears.’Kassarglancedathiswarrior,whoshrugged.‘Weknow it,’ saidKassar. ‘Twodaemonprinces, theButcher and theBlade.OneaWorldEater,oneaNightLord.Theirrivalryledthemtocreateaworldofeternalwar, thisworld, uponwhich they could finally settle their score.Onlytheirwarranoutofcontrol,feduponitself.Itdrewthechampionsofthegodslikefliestooffal.TheButcherandtheBladedrownedinthebloodyfloodtheyhad created, and still thewar raged on.An endless contestwhere the greatestservantsofChaoscouldprovetheirmight,honetheirskills.TheBloodforge.’‘Just so,’ said Excrucias. ‘Suchwas the legend that reachedme,many yearsago.WhenIdiscoveredthatBloodforgewasreal,IsentmyEternalstofindit.LedbySethriel,theyweretobattlehere,toearngloryandrewardfromSlaaneshsothat,whenIreturned,thosethatlivedwouldbeflawless,livingweapons.’‘Exceptwhenyouarrived,allyoufoundwasus.’Excruciasnoddedslowly.‘Onlyyou,fromaworldofchampions,ofperpetualwar.Whathappenedhere?’‘Wewon,’saidKassarsimply.‘Evidently,’saidExcrucias.‘Andwhoareyou,youvictorsoftheBloodforge?’‘WearetheUnsung,andweprevailed,aswealwaysprevail.Killedyourmen.Killedalltheothers.Notwithoutcost,but…’Kassarspreadhishands.‘Hereweare.’‘Here you are…’ echoed Excrucias. ‘Victorious but… still here, amidst therubble.Iwonderwhy…’Kassarsmiledwithouthumour.‘NeverasktheAlphaLegionaquestion,lesttheytellyouseventruthfullies,’he said. ‘Besides, except for coming down here alone, I’m sure you’re notstupid.Youknowwhy.’

‘You lack a ship,’ said Excrucias. ‘You sit trapped amidst the ruin of yourconquest,waitingtosufferthefinishingblowbythehandofthenextpowerfulenemythatcomesalong.Anenemylikeme.’‘There’smore to you than there seems,’ saidKassar. ‘Elaborate armour, golddaemonmask, impressiveblade,senseofpowercomingoffyouinwaves.Butyoucameherealone.Anerror.Youcouldhurtus,butI’veenoughbrothersleftthatwe’dkillyoubeforeyoufinishedthejob.’‘Howquicklydoyouthinkyoucouldlandtheblow?’askedExcrucias.‘Ihaveanentirefleetinorbit.Aword,andtheyteleportmeout…thenfireonmylastlocation.Thisentireregionwouldbenothingbutrad-firewithinmoments.’‘Hm,’gruntedKassar, seeming toponder thepoint. ‘I thoughtyoumight saysomethinglikethat.It’swhyIhadHaltheushereputtogetherateleportjammerbeforeyouarrived.’The tool-festoonedAlphaLegionnaire brandished a crude-looking device, allexposedwiresandruniccircuitry.‘Haven’t activated it yet,’ he said cheerfully. ‘It might not even work. Or itmight just scramble your teleport signal enough to deliver you to yourdestination insideout. I’ve told themmore thanonce that I’mnoTechmarine,but…’Heshrugged.‘An…impasse,then,’saidExcrucias,hisoutwardpoiseshowingnothingoftheexcitementhefeltwithin.Hehadn’tforeseentheteleportjammer,andthesensethathehadplacedhimselfinreal,mortaldangerwasexhilarating.‘Perhaps,’ said Kassar. ‘Perhaps not. You said that your warriors were theoriginal reason that you came to Bloodforge. Implying that something haschanged.Youknowwhatwewant,togetoffthisgods-blightedrockwhilesomeofusstilldrawbreath.Whataboutyou?’‘Icamehere in searchof livingweapons,’ saidExcrucias. ‘Flawlesskillers. Iam engaged in… an ongoing conflict. My… rivals have proven moreproblematic than Ihadhoped. I sought tobolstermy rankswithwarriorswhocould…concludemattersonmybehalf.’‘Butwekilledthem,’saidKassar.‘Butyoukilledthem,’echoedExcrucias.‘AndforthatinsultIshouldflayyouallalive.Butinstead,Iwishtoofferyouabargain.’‘Goon,’saidKassar.Aroundthechamber’sedge,hiswarriorshadbecomeverystill,watchingtheexchangewithintenseinterest.‘Youhavebutcheredaworldofwarriors,’saidExcrucias.‘Whatmoreperfectliving weapons could I hope to find than you? Perhaps you do not have the

magnificence,thesheermightthatmyEternalspossessed,butwhatIhaveseenheresuggeststhatyoumakeupforthislackin…murderousguile.Fightforme.Youhavewononewaralready.Nowhelpmetowinanother.’Kassar’sfacewasanunreadablemask.‘Andinreturn?’heasked.‘In return… a ship, a frigate frommy fleetwith a full and loyal crew,warpcapabilities,firepower.Freedom,todowithasyouwill.’Kassarnoddedslowly,thenmotionedforHaltheustolowerhisteleportjammer.‘Letmespeak tomybrothers,’hesaid. ‘You’ll remainhereas insurance, justlong enough for the Harrow to assemble and to vote. Then you’ll have youranswer.’Excrucias made a show of considering Kassar’s demands, then graciouslyacquiesced. Inside he already knew. He had been right. He had come toBloodforgeinsearchofflawless,livingweapons.And,bythegraceofSlaanesh,hehadfoundthem.Soonenough,theBeaconofTsadrekhawouldbehis…

ClickheretobuyShroudofNight.

http://www.blacklibrary.com/newsletter

ForLoremastersIssyandTeddy–who’vealwaysknowntheirBloodAngelsfromtheirUltramarines,fromtheirSonsofHorus.

ABLACKLIBRARYPUBLICATION

FirstpublishedinGreatBritainin2017.ThiseBookeditionpublishedin2017byBlackLibrary,GamesWorkshop

Ltd,WillowRoad,Nottingham,NG72WS,UK.

ProducedbyGamesWorkshopinNottingham.CoverillustrationbyMikhailSavier.

CadiaStands©CopyrightGamesWorkshopLimited2017.CadiaStands,GW,GamesWorkshop,BlackLibrary,TheHorusHeresy,TheHorus

HeresyEyelogo,SpaceMarine,40K,Warhammer,Warhammer40,000,the‘Aquila’Double-headedEaglelogo,andallassociatedlogos,illustrations,images,names,creatures,races,vehicles,locations,weapons,characters,andthedistinctivelikenessesthereof,areeither®orTM,and/or©Games

WorkshopLimited,variablyregisteredaroundtheworld.AllRightsReserved.ACIPrecordforthisbookisavailablefromtheBritish

Library.

ISBN:978-1-78572-731-3

Thisisaworkoffiction.Allthecharactersandeventsportrayedinthisbookarefictional,andanyresemblancetorealpeopleorincidentsispurely

coincidental.

SeeBlackLibraryontheinternetatblacklibrary.com

FindoutmoreaboutGamesWorkshop’sworldofWarhammerandtheWarhammer40,000universeat

games-workshop.com

eBooklicense

Thislicenseismadebetween:

GamesWorkshopLimitedt/aBlackLibrary,WillowRoad,Lenton,Nottingham,NG72WS,UnitedKingdom(“BlackLibrary”);and

(2)thepurchaserofane-bookproductfromBlackLibrarywebsite(“You/you/Your/your”)

(jointly,“theparties”)

Thesearethetermsandconditionsthatapplywhenyoupurchaseane-book(“e-book”)fromBlackLibrary.Thepartiesagreethatinconsiderationofthefeepaidbyyou,BlackLibrarygrantsyoualicensetousethee-bookonthefollowingterms:

*1.BlackLibrarygrantstoyouapersonal,non-exclusive,non-transferable,royalty-freelicensetousethee-bookinthefollowingways:

o1.1tostorethee-bookonanynumberofelectronicdevicesand/orstoragemedia(including,bywayofexampleonly,personalcomputers,e-bookreaders,mobilephones,portableharddrives,USBflashdrives,CDsorDVDs)whicharepersonallyownedbyyou;

o1.2toaccessthee-bookusinganappropriateelectronicdeviceand/orthroughanyappropriatestoragemedia;and

*2.Fortheavoidanceofdoubt,youareONLYlicensedtousethee-bookasdescribedinparagraph1above.YoumayNOTuseorstorethee-bookinanyotherway.Ifyoudo,BlackLibraryshallbeentitledtoterminatethislicense.

*3.Furthertothegeneralrestrictionatparagraph2,BlackLibraryshallbeentitledtoterminatethislicenseintheeventthatyouuseorstorethee-book(oranypartofit)inanywaynotexpresslylicensed.Thisincludes(butisbynomeanslimitedto)thefollowingcircumstances:

o3.1youprovidethee-booktoanycompany,individualorotherlegalpersonwhodoesnotpossessalicensetouseorstoreit;

o3.2youmakethee-bookavailableonbit-torrentsites,orareotherwisecomplicitin‘seeding’orsharingthee-bookwithanycompany,individualorotherlegalpersonwhodoesnotpossessalicensetouseorstoreit;

o3.3youprintanddistributehardcopiesofthee-booktoanycompany,individualorotherlegalpersonwhodoesnotpossessalicensetouseorstoreit;

o3.4youattempttoreverseengineer,bypass,alter,amend,removeorotherwisemakeanychangetoanycopyprotectiontechnologywhichmaybeappliedtothee-book.

*4.Bypurchasingane-book,youagreeforthepurposesoftheConsumerProtection(DistanceSelling)Regulations2000thatBlackLibrarymaycommencetheservice(ofprovisionofthee-booktoyou)priortoyourordinarycancellationperiodcomingtoanend,andthatbypurchasingane-book,yourcancellationrightsshallendimmediatelyuponreceiptofthee-book.

*5.Youacknowledgethatallcopyright,trademarkandotherintellectualpropertyrightsinthee-bookare,shallremain,thesolepropertyofBlackLibrary.

*6.Onterminationofthislicense,howsoevereffected,youshallimmediatelyandpermanentlydeleteallcopiesofthee-bookfromyourcomputersandstoragemedia,andshalldestroyallhardcopiesofthee-bookwhichyouhavederivedfromthee-book.

*7.BlackLibraryshallbeentitledtoamendthesetermsandconditionsfromtimetotimebywrittennoticetoyou.

*8.ThesetermsandconditionsshallbegovernedbyEnglishlaw,andshallbesubjectonlytothejurisdictionoftheCourtsinEnglandandWales.

*9.Ifanypartofthislicenseisillegal,orbecomesillegalasaresultofanychangeinthelaw,thenthatpartshallbedeleted,andreplacedwithwordingthatisasclosetotheoriginalmeaningaspossiblewithoutbeingillegal.

*10.AnyfailurebyBlackLibrarytoexerciseitsrightsunderthislicenseforwhateverreasonshallnotbeinanywaydeemedtobeawaiverofitsrights,andinparticular,BlackLibraryreservestherightatalltimestoterminatethislicenseintheeventthatyoubreachclause2orclause3.