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back；　and　shooting　pain　blossomed　up　his　spine。
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Marduk　thrashed　and　roared；　and　fresh　blood　began　to　run　from　his　wounds　as　he　fought　to　tear
himself　loose。　The　eldar　merely　gave　a　dry；　cruel　laugh；　and　turned　away　from　him；　and　Marduk
stared　venomously　at　the　retreating　figure　as　it　strode　from　the　room；　parting　the　hanging　partition
with　a　wave　of　its　hand。
You　can　bring　none　of　your　taint　here；　slave；　his　captor　had　said；　and　Marduk　could　well　believe
the　truth　in　the　words。　The　feeling　of　isolation　was　staggering。
Did　a　null…field　containment　force　keep　his　link　with　the　warp　at　bay？　Or　had　the　gods　truly
forsaken　him？
He　had　experienced　a　similar　sensation　of　being　cut　off　from　the　powers　that　be；　once　before；
deep　within　the　xenos　pyramid　on　the　Imperial　world　of　Tanakreg；　in　that　hellish　otherworld　that
was　not　truly　part　of　the　material　universe；　but　something　else　entirely。　He　had　experienced　a　similar
sensation　there；　and　there　he　had　won　out；　defeating　his　former　master　and　escaping　with　his　prize。
Escaping？　The　doubt　came　unbidden　to　his　mind。　Had　he　truly　escaped？　Or　had　he　merely　been
allowed　to　escape？　Surely　such　a　being　as　powerful　as　the　Undying　One　would　never　had　allowed
him　to　flee　its　realm　had　it　not　wished　it　to　be　so。
“My　lord；”　said　a　cracked　voice；　and　Marduk　glanced　over　towards　the　mutilated　figure　of
Sarondel；　stretched　backwards　upon　the　surgeon’s　slab；　his　chest　ripped　open。　The　monstrous　spider
creature　was　still　poised　over　him；　and　it　sprayed　a　liquid　film　over　the　exposed　organs　from　the　tip
of　its　vile；　bulbous；　segmented　abdomen。
“The　gods…　have　they　deserted　us？”　breathed　Sarondel；　echoing　Marduk’s　thoughts。　“I　cannot
feel　their　touch。”
“Speak　not　such　heresies；”　growled　Marduk。　“This　is　a　test　of　our　faith。　The　xenos　filth　will　be
punished　for　what　they　have　done　to　you；　brother。　I　promise　you　that。”
Sarondel　groaned　something　indecipherable　in　response；　and　Marduk　strained　again　to　pull　his
limbs　from　the　spikes　impaling　them。　His　efforts　were　hopeless。　His　muscles　bulged　with　all　his
hyper…enhanced　strength；　but　he　was　powerless　against　the　slender　blades　that　held　his　crucified
form。
What　if　the　gods　had　deserted　them；　thought　Marduk　with　a　stab　of　terror？
Silence　such　thoughts；　Marduk　raged。　Such　doubts　are　poison。　Fortify　your　soul；　he　reminded
himself；　your　faith　will　be　rewarded。
Patience；　he　told　himself。
His　time　would　come；　and　he　would　be　ready。
“You　left　him　behind；”　said　Burias　flatly；　his　eyes　glinting　dangerously。
“Am　I　going　to　have　a　problem　with　you；　Burias？”　growled　Kol　Badar。
Burias　pursed　his　lips；　not　taking　his　eyes　off　the　Coryphaus。　He　took　a　deep　breath；　repressing
his　violent　urge　to　leap　across　the　shuttle　cabin　and　tear　the　older　warrior’s　head　from　his　shoulders。
He　had　always　fought　at　Marduk’s　side。　Even　as　an　acolyte；　Burias　had　recognised　that　Marduk
was　destined　for　great　things；　and　he　was　honest　enough　to　admit　that　that　he　had　befriended　him　in
the　hope　that　he　would　be　dragged　up　the　chain　of　command　with　him。　Burias　had　never　made　any
secret　of　this　fact；　and　he　had　enjoyed　the　success　he　had　achieved；　and　the　privilege　he　had　gained；
as　Marduk　had　risen　to　First　Acolyte。　With　Jarulek　dead　and　gone；　it　was　surely　just　a　formality
before　Marduk　became　a　Dark　Apostle；　and　then　Burias’s　position　would　become　even　more
influential。　He　was　Marduk’s　confidant；　his　brother；　his　friend；　and　he　would　have　had　the　ear　of　a
Dark　Apostle　at　his　disposal。
In　one　swift；　opportunistic　move；　Kol　Badar　had　eliminated　that　future；　and　for　that　Burias
would　dearly　love　to　rip　his　hearts　from　his　chest。
“You　think　he　is　dead？”　asked　Burias　in　a　low　voice。
“He’s　gone；”　said　Kol　Badar。　“The　dark　eldar　took　him。　There　is　no　coming　back。”
143
Burias　scowled；　all　his　years　of　comradeship　with　Marduk；　wasted。　Once　again；　he　let　his　eyes
roll　back　into　his　head　and　the　deafening　tumult　that　was　the　immaterium　screamed　into　him。
Drak’shal　had　a　bond　with　the　First　Acolyte；　stronger　than　any　bond　between　Burias　and　Marduk；　a
bond　of　servitude；　a　bond　of　command。　It　was；　after　all；　Marduk　who　had　first　summoned　Drak’shal
into　the　icon　bearer’s　flesh。
Drak’shal　reached　out　at　Burias’s　urging；　searching　for　Marduk’s　soul…fire；　for　some　hint　of　its
existence。　The　daemon　found　nothing。　Of　course；　it　would　take　days；　weeks　even；　to　properly　scour
the　turbulence　of　the　empyrean；　despite　the　bond　the　First　Acolyte　and　the　daemon　shared；　but　a
shadow　presence　should　have　been　simple　to　locate。　It　was　as　if　everything　that　Marduk　was　had
been　snuffed　out。　Slowly；　Burias　opened　his　eyes。
“He　is　truly　gone；”　he　muttered　in　disbelief。
“As　I　said；”　said　Kol　Badar。
This　changed　everything。　If　Marduk　truly　was　dead；　and　what　other　explanation　could　there　be；
then　Burias　would　have　to　quickly　reassess　his　position。　Without　the　First　Acolyte’s　backing　and
favour；　his　position　within　the　Host　was　tenuous。　Kol　Badar；　as　Coryphaus；　was　the　most　powerful
individual　within　the　Host；　and　would；　as　protocol　demanded；　take　over　the　leadership　role。　Burias
would　be　foolish　to　take　that　lightly。　Without　the　First　Acolyte　to　shield　him；　Kol　Badar　could　do
with　him　as　his　wished　with　impunity。
“What　of　the　Council？”　asked　Burias；　his　mind　whirring。　“The　life　of　a　Coryphaus　that　has
allowed　his　Dark　Apostle　to　die　is　a　tenuous　thing；　but　a　Coryphaus　that　has　allowed　his　Dark
Apostle　and　First　Acolyte　to　fall？　You’ll　be　made　to　suffer；　and　I　have　no　wish　to　fall　with　you。”
“Walk　with　me；”　commanded　the　Coryphaus；　releasing　the　harness　clamping　him　into　his　seat；
and　making　his　way　towards　the　control　cabin　of　the　Idolator；　fighting　the　angle　of　the　ship’s　assent
and　the　G…forces　that　pushed　against　his　massive　frame。　Clearly；　Kol　Badar　wished　to　continue　the
discussion　out　of　the　earshot　of　the　other　warrior　brothers　of　the　Host；　which　made　Burias　at　once
both　suspicious　and　intrigued。
Burias　threw　off　his　harness　and　stood　up　unsteadily。　Using　the　rail…holds　above　his　head　he
hauled　himself　hand　over　hand　towards　the　front　of　the　shuttle。　Once　inside　the　control　cabin；　Kol
Badar　punched　a　blister…rune　and　the　hatch　was　sealed　behind　them。
The　crew　of　the　Idolator　had　long　been　fused　with　their　controls；　and　what　remained　of　their
flesh　was　covered　in　runes　and　sigils　of　binding。　They　stared　ahead　with　sightless　eyes；　their　entire
existence　dedicated　to　serving　their　infernal　masters。　They　would　not　repeat　what　words　were
spoken　in　their　presence　even　were　they　capable　of　speech。
“The　Council　need　not　know　all　the　details；”　said　Kol　Badar　slowly；　his　eyes　intense。
“They　will　need　to　be　told　something；”　Burias　hissed；　“unless　we　do　not　return　to　Sicarus　at　all。”
“No；　that　is　not　an　option。　No　warrior　of　Lorgar　has　ever　turned　from　the　XVII　Legion。　No；　we
tell　the　Council　the　truth。”
“The　truth？”　asked　Burias。
“Yes；　that　the　Dark　Apostle　Jarulek　was　treacherously　cut　down　by　the　traitor　Marduk；　who　was
envious　and　covetous　of　his　hallowed　role；”　said　Kol　Badar；　“and　that　Marduk　was　subsequently
slain　for　his　misdeed。”
“You　wish　to　lie　to　the　Council？”　asked　Burias；　his　voice　incredulous。
Kol　Badar　did　not　have　a　chance　to　answer；　as　warning　lights　lit　up　across　the　consoles　of　the
shuttle。　The　Coryphaus　moved　swiftly　towards　the　pict　screens　flashing　with　a　stream　of　data；　and
swore。
“What　is　it？”　asked　Burias　in　alarm。
“A　tyranid　spore　shower；”　answered　the　Coryphaus。
It　was　heading　right　towards　them。
144
“Admiral；”　said　Gideon　Cortez；　flag…lieutenant　of　the　Hammer　of　Righteousness。　“The　master　of
ordnance　has　a　firing　solution。　Request　approval　to　launch　torpedoes。”
“Approved；”　said　Admiral　Rutger　Augustine。
He　was　standing　at　the　forward　observation　deck　with　his　hands　on　his　hips；　watching　the　battle
unfold　before　him。　The　strategy　of　maintaining　a　blockade　in　front　of　the　encroaching　tyranid
menace　and　decimating　any　world；　inhabited　or　not；　in　its　path　still　rankled　with　Augustine；　but　such
were　his　orders。
Most　of　the　enemy　hive　ships　were　still　tens　of　thousands　of　kilometres　away；　but　he　could　see
them：　immense；　sentient　creat