Ch.9: The Luna Maiden Conflict

Captain Cogadh held on right as the landraider sped across the volcanic terrain. Their convoy was heading to it's destination in paradise falls where with the assistance of the Excorsist Brothers they would be transported to the Luna Maiden. It was his job to assure that their Adeptus Mechanicum allies under his care would set up a base of operations on the sunken ship.

Sat opposite him was the tech priest dominus Vulpus Canix, a very powerful warrior of the cult mechanicus, until very recently she was the heart of the Mengnar Facility, but since The Fall she had been moved beneath ground to work closely with the Iron Father.

A sudden jolt lurched them forward, and suddenly bright midday light shone through the rear doors opening.

Stood in the light, the primaris marines in their red MK X Tacticus Armour, adorned in the unusual runes that marked them as Exorcists.

"The Thunderhawks are ready for departure."

No need for formalities. It was understandable why the relationship between the Iron Hands and the Excorsists worked so well. They understood. They knew. They had the same respect for the other.

****

As they approached the Luna Maidan they took another scan. Again no life, but... that same strange signal again, was this the dreaded Daemons of Sarcoma once more? What was the secret of the Luna Maiden?

****

Necron! It was not long after they had landed before the enemy was realised. The Luna Maiden was infiltrated by filthy Demos.

"Charge men! Show them no mercy!" Growled Captain Cogadh into his Vox. They pushed forward into the depths of the metal maze, looking for the power overs that would give them the advantage on the ship. The Kataphron destroyers pushed forward blasting away the cold grey figures with powerful blasts of grav weaponry.

Suddenly a bright flash of purple and a deep thud! Cogadh leapt behind a wall. Blasts of purple scorched the walls. Two more booming thuds shook the structure. The sound of metal feet clanking on metal floor, destructive hisses of gauss energy in the air.

"For the Emperor!" Cried thr captain as he leapt forth firing his combi-blaster into the Lych Guard that fell to his shots. He swung his holy blade into another that crumpled beneath his divine might.

"Access the port!" He yelled "if vulpus can-"

And with a blast of violet light he was extinguished, the brave captain eliminated.

Vulpus felt them. A rush. All of them, angry, and that rage filled her! Trespassers! Filthy Xenos attempted to corrupt the sacred machine spirits of Luna Maiden!

"++ Activate security servitors IIB-73++

++Activate security servitors IIB-74++

++Activate security servitors IIB-75++

++Activate security servitors IIB-76++

..."

She would eliminate them all, it was her task, she would eliminate them all.

"++Activate security servitors IIC-71++

++Activate security servitors IIC-72++

..."

Ch.9: Rising from the Fall

++Days after the Mengnar Facility was captured.++

"Iron Father, we discovered something. A secret tunnel beneath the facility." Vulpus' voice sounded softly over the vox, "evidence would suggest it is not natural, probably only formed in the last thirty planetary cycles. Though it is deep. Our initial exploratory team has informed us that it travels many miles deep underground. Before splintering different directions. We believe one may head towards mount Shatterer. The other heads north east. What are your orders?"

"We shall move north east, perhaps we can work our way behind the Thousand Sons and ambush them. Report what you find!"

++After the battles with the Black Legion. ++

"Iron Father, I regret to inform you that our second assault has failed. However evidence would suggest they have no interest in pursuing us."

"This is most unfortunate... return to the surface. We have issues above ground. We shall explore the tunnels further another time."

++ The Battle of Mengnar ++

A bright flash scratched the air burning a deadly blast at where the Iron Father Stoo, In the bloody burnt mess that was once his servitors. The whole building shook with the devistating blast...

Iron Father Seanair fell into darkness...

At the very moment he was targeted Vulpus knew what to do. The secret tunnel beneath him dropped him down into the facility l. All around him servitors helped him to his feet and head him away. He had done his bit, he had stalled the Pandemica long enough to bring his forces bellow into Under Krillion. For the last month the Iron Hands had pushed further and further into the secret labyrinth, meeting others aware of its secret, some friendly, others not.

It was a shame Mengnar had to fall but the wheels were in motion. Seanair reveled in knowing more than anyone else, the secrets of Krillion were for him to take and if they were taken from him, well, Seanair didn't share his toys!

Seanair spoke in to his vox.

"Eliminate the Magos!"

****

The Marine raised his bolt pistol and then pulled the trigger.

The vox-caster of the Mad Magos crackles with his dying words "Eye awoken... storm BURNS... 01100100 01101000 01110101 01110101 01101101 00100111 01110011 00100000 01100100 01100001 01111001"

His mechadendrites reach out in death throes, pulling out all the stops before falling on the contraptions organ-like control panel. A violent discordant cacophony echoes through the caverns, triggering collapse as the Iron Hands forces escape to Under-Krillion.

Ch.8: Out of Time

Heracio Santos had been delighted at the news of Salbatore's return. In truth it was a matter that had taken him by surprise. The Timeflayer, surprised. The universe was littered with irony.
He had been in touch with the Captain, and promised his reunion once he had answers.
That had been 2 weeks ago.

In the time since, the Timeflayer had secured a meeting with the Shadow Keepers, the Adeptus Custodes whose duty it was to lock up and watcher over the cruellest and vilest of creatures human or otherwise that not even death could find purchase. Soulless monsters that required the greatest of the Emperor's servants to watch over. It was to their hands the Librarian had handed over Malachi, the thrice cursed. The demented champion and warlord of the Mortnek Pandemica.

Krillion had begun speaking, and the Timeflayer could not be allowed to be distracted with prison guarding. How right the Time seer was.


Smoke.
Ash.
Lightening.

Whether it was flesh, stone or metal. None were left to remain.

The vision had been so real. Santos could taste the burning air, the copper tinge of blood. He could hear the screaming, the alien tongues. They wailed and wept. He saw devastation. Mighty monuments laid low. The Timeflayer reached out and a hand grasped him. Pleading desperately for aid or comfort, before it too turned to nought but ash.
There it was. The hopelessness. That nothing could be done to ever change this fate. It was here.
Santos dared to look up, above the destruction. A terrible shadow that held itself aloft above the wreckage, the smoke and the ash. It spoke. Only a single word. The Timeflayer's mind could not comprehend, he fell to his knees unwillingly, his eyes rolled into his skull. Darkness.

****

"Time Seer" came a familiar voice, "Mon'keigh, awaken I beg you..."
Santos opened his eyes, he nearly had to shield them from the sharp stabs of bright blue light.
"We have little time...Alexandros is too far and Galen's council will come no where near. Ardashir and Sarcoma search...but you soon shall be gone, as will I. "
"What...Where am I?"
"The Shatterering, a place neither here nor there. A single moment. A prison. For my Kin and I."
The Timeflayer began to recognise the being before him, he had seen it before. In the warp, chased after it. Santos began to open his mouth.
"Please Time Seer. No time for questions. We can not keep you anchored here for much longer, you are slipping..."
Santos against his better judgement held his tongue.
"You must go to the Abyss. The mouth is opening. What will pour out is untold decimation..."
The visuals infront of the Timeflayer's eyes flickered, blinked.
"...Suania abhors Doom, and we failed. The betrayer's succeeded after our imprisonment. closing off our tunnels..."
Another blink.
"...had it been another's fate, it may never have come to this, but for the foul Promise that landed and cracked open the earth..."
Blink.
"...your race did this, and now all of the galaxy will suffer..."
Blink. Blink.
"...only hope is to follow my kin underground, they will show you how to get..."
Blink. Blink.
"No we are losing him... No, see to the others, we must show them the way, it is our sacrifice...
Blink. Blink. Blink.
"Time Seer... Stop D..."

****

The Timeflayer woke up, exhausted. He was knelt on the floor, his body drenched in sweat. Blood had dripped from his ears and nose, which were already clotting. What manner of vision had that been? He had not meditated nor begun a ritual of transition. The Exilium City Command Centre was a hive of activity. Santos senses return to their normality and he was able to pick up sensations around him. Something serious had occurred. He closed his eyes and listened. Phantoms. Phantoms had been reported flickering and blinking out of existence across Suania. Also, the dark eldritch storm had returned.

Ch.8: Hidden Woes

THE COLLAPSE. DOOM'S MAUL

Melchizedek strode up the winding path and found the Astartes Captain surveying the sea as it crashed it's salty, murky, waves against the rocks far below. Again and again and again.

"Duty is the greatest Honour, but a burden nevertheless..." Spoke the Custodian.
"...A burden I bear gladly for His glory." replied Stefano Salbatore's, finishing off the well known words of his Primarch.
The Captain should have known that one of the Golden Legion would be able to read him like words on a parchment.

Shield Captain Melchizedek of the Emissaries Imperatus stood beside the Crimson Fist, arms behind his back and his grey-white waist cloth flickered in the sea breeze. Eyes gazing across the ocean, towards Demensne.
The Crimson Fists were finally here, established and now ready to venture the Feral Continent. It was here in this dreadful and forsaken landscape where the Orks were believed to have set up base camp. Of course, except for long slaughtered Greenskin bodies, they were no where to be found. A spearhead force accompanied by their crusading allies, Wyrdmane's Wolves were attempting to push through the frozen north.

The Air here, tasted bitter sweet. You could not deny the thriving jungle and yet everything spoke of death. 'The Collapse' was a place of ruin, a long ago seafaring settlement that had part plummeted into the ocean and part eaten by the jungle. It was clear Doom's Maul did not wish to be tamed.

"You know... the Crimson Fists have a reputation even on Terra. One I am grateful to confirm, Dorn would be proud of." stated Melchizedek very matter of factly.
Salbatore allowed himself a rare smile.
"I thank you for your words Shield-Captain. How may I be of service?" Asked the Primaris marine, only turning his head after speaking his question.
"I have come to speak with you, Stefano Salbatore."

The Captain didn't know what to think, other than this was clearly a test. Melchizedek didn't waste a moment following up.

"You have walked this world these past months, speak to me of what you have witnessed with your own eyes...and judgement."
Salbatore said nothing, and silence hung between the two warriors, then he began as he understood  Melchizedek's intent.

"The Greenskins have abnormally overran a world far quicker than any known Waaagh! to date. Historical data-nodes of Krillion space record no known Ork activity in this sector, until this event. None of the defensive orbital platforms ever fired a shot. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they just appeared... This. This is what I seek to understand. So that no Ork can replicate this kind of tactic and go unchallenged."

The Custodian nodded, seemingly satisfied with Salbatore's assessment.
"What of the traitors?"

"The mongrels of chaos only seek to capitalise on this world's suffering. Colonel Cranis of the 86th is providing a bulwark to stem their interference, however reports from their lines suggest psychic phenomenons... Either there is an imminent daemon threat, such as the Plague ready to spew upon Suania anew or perhaps a message is seeking it's means to be made known, either to them or to us,as unpredictable a communication method as it is.
I think not the former, as your presence here suggests otherwise."

Melchizedek grunted, he was beginning to like the Captain.

"There is the matter of the Necrons. They were first brought to our attention in Demensne, as we defended the Cathedral. They have eluded us with their intentions, so too amongst the Crusade Council. Chief Arathon despite his conflicts is none the wiser."

"An anomaly..." pondered the Shield Captain aloud. "Arathon as been distracted with the south has he not?"
"From what I am able to piece together, his chapter along with a contingent of Iron Hands have been fighting a war in the Telokin Wastes from Thousand Sons and a band of vile war engines called 'Pandemica', until recently where a Plague of unclean daemons have swept across from the west...

Salbatore paused then added "Things seem too messy on Krillion, there is something I'm missing. Too much is going on for it to be coincidence. All the activity, the shroud of chaos, the waves of Orks, even the amount of Imperial presence. A veil has been cast. Something hiding in all the noise. What is Krillion hiding...?

"A question we have come to answer... shall we go Captain Salbatore, to look so we may find..."

Melchizedek wasn't asking. He was directing. The Primaris Captain turned and followed the Golden Warrior. Duty called.

ISILORE'S PATH, ROGUE'S OCEAN

The ancient path and derelict ruins of a bygone age that married the regions of Suania and Rogue's Ocean had until now been silent and all but forgotten. Now they stirred.
phantom's flickered as they moved, the moonlight barely capturing their existence in the dark overhang of the cliffs and jungle tops. Rune's pulsed with a shimmering energy from a long slumber...only to die.
Phantoms from a dozen, began to swell in size as they congregated down the stony steps towards the lowly coast line that looked eastward.
Powerless they watched. hoping. fading.

THE FORGOTTEN VALLEY, SUANIA
They couldn't wait no longer.
They had to try.
They had to do something.
They would march.

It could not be allowed.

Ch.8: Assault on Mengnar

Vulpus vibrated softly, a sharp high pitched whistle emitting from her body. Her eyes glowed green as she scoured through ancient texts for clues about the breach. Her mind spilled out deep into the machine spirits of the mighty Facility. Multiple wires and cords plugged her body into the consoles. Acolytes gathered around chanting holy rites to the omnissiah above her quivering form.

The Iron Father Stood, observing, scowling, deep in thought. This was indeed a worrying turn of events. An unexpected attack upon Mengnar, but from who? Perhaps the Orks who had blown up the pipelines? Surprisingly stealthy for the Brutish Xenos, and what would the green skins want from the data banks? Perhaps then not Xeno? Seanair had no doubts that NEGATIVE-5T4R would have had survivors, Zero-Four would be interested in what the Iron Hands had discovered. The Exorcists also came to mind, the relationship between the two had become rocky when they had requested entry into the facility, had they gone behind The Iron Hands back? This would be most troublesome. A fight amongst themselves would only make them weaker against the filthy Xeno and the disgusting heretics of this planet. Speaking of Heretics, what of the Mortenok Pandemica? They had rooted themselves deep within this planet, rotting it from the inside out. Seanair pondered if the presence if the warp entities had anything to do with them. Or perhaps the Thousand Sons? Crafty witches of deceit and guile, their ways dripping with cruel rites and forbidden powers. They were a dirty festering wound upon the galaxy that needed to be scrubbed away. Many sides to this complex war.

What ever happened next the Iron Hands knew their next move. All they needed was the assistance of their only ally on Krillion. The Omnissiah's Wrath had proven to have many uses, and if what was to be believed was true no life forms had been detected upon the ship. Clearly its secrets left untouched. Krillion was filled with many hidden surprises so what was waiting for them uncovered by the tsunami?

"Iron Father," a voice cracked with static from a nearby Tech Priest "An urgent message from above. There has been a breach."

"Another!? How are they entering undetected into the data vaults?" Seanair boomed in fury.

No sir, you misunderstand," the crackling voice continued "The breach is the outer wall."

The priest drew back his robes revealing a data slate in his chest. On the screen it showed massive towering knights marching across the snowy landscape.

"Prepare for battle! Bring the storm to Mengnar! The Pandemica will be stopped!"

Ch.7: The Roja Revelation

"Halt! Stand down!" Salbatore cried out.

The Crimson Fist strike force had wasted no time rushing upon the Roja Plantation. Repulsor Tanks, Stormhawk and Inceptors struck within the perimeters. Interim Captain Tadeas lead the Intercessor squads marching out of their transports to begin searching and locking down districts.

Within moments of the Crimsons' entrance, red armoured Primaris Astartes in turn revealed themselves and their strength of numbers right across the plantation.

There was a cold stand off. Defenders vs Invaders.

Stefano Salbatore, Captain of the Crimson Fists Primaris Company walked out from The Exorcists Command hab. Interim Captain Tadeas, betrayed his steely stance as he relaxed, his eyes spotting the Captain.

Tadaes blinked the 'At Ease' Icon to all squads, the Crimson Fist all lowered their weapons.

****

"...The Exorcist's have walked Krillion for as long as we have" Salbatore educated Tadaes and the Lieutenants.
"It appears the south have known conflicts with Chaos, just as the Krillion Liberation Crusade as known in the north, and east. The Exorcist's believes the key to ending the Krillion Invasion lies across the seas, 'Doom's Maul. It delights me greatly that in my absence we have managed to breach this location..."
"My Lord" Tadeas injected his information "we are establishing ourselves upon on a former settlement, an old port hub that has collapsed into the sea. It was the only option available to us, the feral continent is unwelcoming but your orders were carried out nevertheless. Nothing will stop our duty."
"Duty is honour." Salbatore affirmed "There is however more happening upon Krillion than we are lead to believe and we are waiting on the Emperor's word to guide us, this is why I delayed my return to you..."
"My Lord, The Emperor's Word?" Tadeas asked perplexed.
"The Golden Legion is here. We are being joined by the Ardent Halo Shield Host.
This fight is bigger than us, now, and...always was."

Ch.7: Commanding Destiny

All that broke the silence was Alexandros’s breathing, his closed eyelids flickered as if asleep, but he was very much awake.  The warp lay before him, a series of shards broken and shattered in to pieces, it had taken him days to find this place, if there is such a thing as place in the warp. 

 This point contained the future of Krillion but whatever had passed here had made sure to leave little trace of what that may be. Alexandros watched the shards that drifted pasted, his body nothing more than a shadow, a cloud of smoke in the warp. Some were of events he’d seen himself take place and others from a time before he’d taken up the mantel of Astarte or even been born. 

These he let drift by for they were not what he was searching for, “there” he breathed to himself, it was a small thread in among the larger shards but it was the thread he’d been looking for, ‘Stefano Salbatore’ nothing more than a name but connected to so many parts of Krillion, slowly Alexandros reached down and gently pulled the thread. 

 As his finger took hold of it, images began to flash in front of him, great battles, the burden of a duty to something more than one's self, rage and hate for what had happen and finally a mission to save a planet on the fringe. Alexandros looked deeper into this last image, “there” the shard shrunk back has Alexandros drew near to in as if trying to hide itself from him but it was of no use and with a quick wave of his hand, the shard was bound in place. It was of a lone marine charging into what could only be described as hell fire, his amour chipped and damaged but his soul unflinching even when faced with the full power of the warp unleashed in real space. Alexandros watch as he charged though the flames his power armor cracking and buckling under the pressure but still, he pressed on through the fire his gauntlet ablaze with crackling light and has he pushed his ruby red fist forward, past the flames the shard was consumed by a blinding light and shattered turning to dust.

As the dust drifted away Alexandros saw one last picture, it showed the same lone marine standing by himself amidst a field of bodies and flames but then the image shifted, and he was no longer standing alone in the field but was joined by another marine upon the field of battle.

Before Alexandros could see any more the warp once more let out a deafening screech as if it was a wounded beast and the currents that had laid clam at his feet began to take on form and twist into creatures from people's darkest dreams. Then Alexandros open his eyes and once more the only sound was his steady breathing in and out.

The Vox to the chamber then broke into life “My Lord urgent message from Captain Silas, he requests your presence in the burning veil there has been an encounter.”

Alexandros took a moment before relying “Ready my shuttle immediately and inform the Halo.”

“It will be done my lord.”

Ch.7: A Dark Discovery

The sound of metallic feet crunching on loose stone echoed into the darkness, a low hum from the omnispex carried in the hands of a ranger the only other sound. Eyes of crimson glowed and observed the details of the caverns the Skitarii stalked. The sight they took in would have driven most insane, but the parts of the brain that would have harboured such fear had been removed from them many years ago.

A mass of organic matter had been grafted and stitched into the walls. Investigations revealed that what ever it was, had been human at some point. It had stretched out a mile behind them, and continued on into the darkness an unknowable distance ahead. Faces were contorted in anguish and bones splintered out, dripping with yellow bile. The stench of death and decay hung low and heavy in the air. Scarred and branded along the puffy pallid flesh was evidence of who they once were. The symbols of the Mortenok Pandemica was known to the Rangers. They had been witness to the vile horror the Pandemica was unleashing upon Krillion.

Suddenly a sound broke out into the near silence, like a dagger piercing skin, it cut into the cold darkness. They turned around quickly and looked at the source of the noise. A rotten head stitched into the wall screeched out one word. Then! Another and another! Multiple mouthes of the bloated mass hissed and shrieked that word, no, not a word. A name! A name whose mere utterance churned the fetid air, the name made the bits of flesh the Skitarii had left itch, and organs churn and ache. The sickening name rang out again and again. The taste of doom leaked out of it.

"SSSSSSAAAAARRRRCCCOOOMMAAAAAA!!!!!"

Ch.7: Iron Soul

The flaming hulks of the destroyed chaos knights lit the nights sky, Silas had attacked with support from the Iron hand and reduced the knights to molten slag but there was no celebration, no victory cry, the Iron hands Captain’s body had been found in one of the few remaining buildings left standing after the assault, his body, or what was what was left of it was chained to a metal bench, bones broken, skin flayed, eyes burned from their sockets and his tong cut out, this had been done not for information or to kill but to inflict pain upon his body and yet he had survived his will unbroken.

A Vox had immediately been sent to the Iron hands that had assisted them in the purging of the Vale, informing them of his location and they had arrived quickly and secured their Captain, they’d also brought with them what appeared to be some kind of stasis pod, but its design was not one that Silas had encountered before and interned their Captain into it, part of Silas wondered how they had found one on a world such as Krillion but these questions would have to wait.

Scans had picked up a faint lone heat signature on the fringe of the Vale and this would be his next mission.

++++

Iron Father Seanair stood above the broken body of Captain Puistfuar, trapped within the stasis chamber. Seanair's face was stuck in its usual grim scowl.

"The Flesh is Weak." He uttered.

"Iron Father," a voice hissed in the darkness, forward scuttled the techpriest, "it is ready."

Seanair looked up to see the mighty machine being bought forward into the chamber. Seanair looked once more upon the bloodied and ruined body of Captain Puistfuar.

"I bring you a new body captain, I will strip you of your weakness and once more you will stride across the battle field smiting our enemies in the name of the Holy Emperor!" His eyes closed and he left the chamber. Once more the flesh of the captain was cut into and moulded into the weapon that it needed to be.

Ch.7: Aid Unlooked For

The world had turned black.

Salbatore fought his eyes to open, his helm lost, blown off his head.

Slowly he picked himself up, sitting at first has he breathed and took in his surrounding. Where was he? And what had happened?

All he could recall to memory was his last defiant stand against the monsterous machine of the Pandemica's Warlord. He'd smashed the Fist of Vengeance into the renegade construct and let the Emperor decide his fate.

He unsteadily rose to his feet and analysed the air with a deep breath. The air had an ionised tang to it, and sand...igneous in origin.

He could see in the far distance the mighty plumes of smoke ascending the sky, Mt Shatterer. This gave him his first bearing. He turned to face the opposite direction where Hive Quentif lay, all Salbatore witnessed was ruin and destruction. Fire and ashes. It had appeared he had been flung by some force, south westernly.

He considered what he should do and made to take a step forward. Returning to the Chapter was his priority, however the Primaris Captain stumbled, overbalancing catching his weight on out stretched arms. He looked up and saw only an ashen fog with fires still burning.

He rose again, this time however he stood watching as forms swirled and began to take shape stepping out of the fog.

Astartes! Salbatore identified. The power armoured form could not be mistaken...and yet, the armour was dark, fire burning upon it and within it. Bones protruded from pauldrons and where the Imperial Aquila should be.

The Crimson Fist, prepared himself for a fight. But the dark Astartes  never advanced closer. He could make out five of them... four of which were slowly surveying the ruins around them. One was still, staring, watching the Captain. Then it raised it's fiery gauntlet and pointed.

Salbatore recognised the indication was not at him but behind him, he spun around to see...more Astartes! They were in a theta-pattern advance and travelling quickly towards him. These Space Marines wore red armour with a horned- skull heraldry...Primaris Astartes! Salbatore was taken back with surprise. He turned to face the marines of bone and fire, but they had vanished. Only smoke and fog remained.

"Identity yourself Brother!" Came a call from a red Marine.

"I am...I am Stefano Salbatore of the Crimson Fists, Primaris Company. To whom am I addressing?"

Ch.6: Blood & Guts

The Emperors lapdogs reacted quickly when the Daemonic defenders appeared, obliterating the Drones before the Daemon horde moved. Retribution was swift, the two emissaries of Khorne launching forward on wings a death bellowing triumphantly. The walking coffin became an actual one when the great axe of Khorne cleaved it apart, the resulting explosion causing the Bloodthirster to reel.

Despite the loss of a Leviathan Dreadnaught and a full squad of intercessors, the Exorcists stood firm. They are unleashed their fury and caused the winged beasts to be banished back to the hell they came from.

As the battle moved back and forth, the exorcists realised that the Daemons were up to something and in order to stop them they’d have to rush across the battlefield. No easy task with a hulking grinning monstrosity holding the centre.

Pustulence Slopdribble squealed with glee as he felt something slapped him on his rump, he finished rooting through the corpses of the marines he’d just squashed beneath his bulk to see an ornate looking marine with a glowing fist, clearly his intentions were to be sneaky, but they had failed. CLANG, CLANG, CLANG, the summoning bell echoed off the tough Astartes armour, but the mighty captain fell under the immense weight and the searing psychic onslaught.

With the Captain dead at his feet, pustulence aimed to distract his enemies, the ritual had to succeed or all would be lost. His failed lashed round and the banner fluttered to the ground, it’s pole shattered and its bearer crumpled on the floor.

The Exorcists were racing across the battlefield when there was an audible pop, the ritual was complete and they were too late, with many of their brothers and their captain lost, it was time to withdraw. The daemonic legions held the field, but it wasn’t an easy victory. Even so Pustulence grinned and would return to Sarcoma once again victorious.

Ch.6: The Lost & The Damned

Malachai the insane grunted in annoyance as he surveyed the hive infront of him. His vox link crackled into life

“ enemies approach kill on sight" 

On the horizon he could see the hulking silhouettes of kelnar the errant and silas the crusader. Enemues approached and began engaging the other knights. Malachai laughed as he now knew his trap was successful.

Gleaming bikes flew into the battle totally unaware Malachai was waiting. His conflagration cannon roared into life belching an inferno at them. Huge booms from silas rattled the city just as smoking craters were left by kelnar.

A massive concentrated barrage of enemy firepower hit malachai forcing him slightly backwards. The gleaming jetbikes charged at him causing heavy damage before he crushed them into nothing.

“leviathan drradnought approaching from the right destroy as priority"

Silas span round bringing his huge weapo s to bear on this new target. His battlecannon launched a devastating salvo at the leviathan crippling it. Kelnars thermal cannon roared as a ball of supercharged magma finished off the leviathan.

Suddenly a huge explosion lit up the sky and shook the ground with its ferocity. Silas and kelnar turned to see the blazing remains of Malachai. The smoking debris of his valiant had collapsed onto a building totally destroying it.

“enemy totally destroyed mission objectives achieved. Return to base"

Silas and Kelnar took one last glance at the destruction then left the still burning hive.

****

The catastrophic flash continued to echo across the Time Flayer's visor. He had hit the floor hard and his cowl had caught fire nevertheless his rose to his feet abruptedly and unsteadily with only a single focus, "Stefano!" He called out.

The Quentif Gate and the Outer-Hive were laid in ruin. Demolished and destroyed. The triple renegade knights had smashed aside the Crimsons Fists' blockade and now bodies in blue power armour were scattered across the sector.

Worse was the explosion. In an heroic stand, Salbatore and the Timeflayer had stood firm against the enemy warlord.  Heracio had been sent hurling but had witnessed the final blow from his Captain- land against the armoured monster. The energy of the Fist of Vengeance had ignited and ruptured the traitorous engine, and in an eruption of light and fire - that was the last time had he seen Captain Stefano Salbatore.

"Stefano!"

The Timeflayer had seen the moves, every action. He had danced has he should have...but the outcome...the outcome he had never envisioned.

He raced toward the burning rumble and the dead knight. He pulled off his helm that was still haunted with static, and he dug.

Minutes later, a Repulsor pulled up and more Crimson Fists joined the search as they realised their Captain was missing.

****

The Timeflayer stepped forward holding an unconscious body aloft with his psychic might. "This is Malachi... my prisoner."

Ch.6: Bloodbound

The rending of space sent a psychic shockwave across Krillion, most wouldn’t have even noticed, but Sarcoma immediately recognised the warp as it spilled out into the air of Krillion.

The initial battle was short and brutal, both sides taking heavy losses and even the avatar of destruction was battered, but it revelled in the blood and death whilst it pulled the flying machines from the sky.

The Bloodthirster Grn’thrng’gshh had arrived on Krillion, death would come to all and nothing would now stop it’s wrath.

Ch.6: Becoming

With a sigh the young noble began to traverse the hallways of Castle Stehlenheim, distancing herself from the rigmarole of courtly affairs, alarms sounding the call to battle. After navigating the labyrinthine corridors she stopped abruptly at a large gilded door, met by angelic servitors who frantically floated around her in a cacophony of beeps, clicks and whirrs, before the portal slowly slid open with a mechanical groan. Walking down the sacred lodge towards her steed, she shed the layers of her courtly couture, letting them fall to the floor behind her, as flocks of cherubim whisked them away, revealing the pilot’s suit hidden beneath. She ran her tongue along her teeth in anticipation, tracing the blessed sacristan runes carved in adamantium, a constant reminder of her ascension and the mantle she now bore, as well as the nickname the common people gave her; The Princess with the Adamantine Smile. To this day she was astonished at the skill in which the reconstruction had been carried out following that fateful night.

It had been seven years since she undertook the Ritual of Becoming but she could remember it vividly, alone in the darkness of the lodge save for the ghosts of warriors past crying out from the spirit of the machine. She spent hour upon hour within the throne, convulsing wildly as her mind resisted the neural onslaught. Despite this, not once did she cry out, bearing the pain through gritted teeth which, as consequence, had shattered along with her entire lower jaw at the end of the ordeal.

Upon climbing the ladder of the looming forgeshrine she was met by Viveka, her personal Sacristan.

“My Lady, the Rose’s Thorn stands ready and waiting for you.” Viveka reported with a curtsey.

The scion nodded, “Plasma cores fully fuelled?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“And the Conflagration Cannon?”

“Calibrated and blessed in observance of the rites specified by yourself, my Lady.”

“That will be all, Viveka.”

“Yes, my Lady.”

With that, the scion climbed the rungs to the access hatch, lowering herself into the cockpit. Serpentine interface cords snaked towards her as she sat upon the Throne Mechanicum, seeking out the neural sockets hidden beneath raven hair. She winced as the cold, familiar sting of the neural jacks graced her flesh once again, bonding her with the Rose’s Thorn. The whispers began, voices of previous pilots, dictating tales of glory, honor and duty. The same voices which once plagued her were now a comfort to her in the brief moments she was alone, silent mentors lurking in the recesses of her mind.

Data-feeds flickered into life emitting a soft green glow as the hatchet closed, sealing her within the armour. With a thought she opened a vox channel, “Viveka, are my Bondmaidens ready to engage?”

“Yes my Lady, maidens Amalia and Lena are prepared for battle.” Viveka replied after a brief pause.

With another mental direction she activated slave protocols, linking the Helm Mechanicum of her subordinates to her neural choir. Submitting to her will, the Armiger Helverins of her Bondmaidens lurched forward from adjacent shrines, falling into formation before her as the Rose’s Thorn thundered towards the towering lodge door. After a brief moment of pure white, the pict-feeds adjusted to outside conditions, revealing towering pines covered in snow.

Ch.6: The March of Iron

The docks had held with the support of the Ardent Halo and what remained of the plague was slowly being burned by fireteams dispatched throughout the district. It was the loss of communication with one of these burns teams that first alerted Alexandros to the incoming threat.

Expecting it to be the return of the Daemon forces Alexandros immediately dispatched a large strike force of Exorcists with support of the Ardent Halo to the fireteams last confirmed location. He would have gone himself but the Ardent Halo had requested his presence aboard their ship.

In contrast to the beaches of Paradise Falls the power plant that had sustained the warm atmosphere of the beaches was made of grey and ugly metals, the buildings closed packed together and a thick smog hung in the streets.

“Captain Vitus, scanners pick up movement seven hundred metres ahead.”

Vitus's response was instant “ Take up defensive positions in surrounding buildings and create a kill box, Squad Primas advance up the main street and prepare for first contact!”

As the Exorcists waited the streets started to echo with a deep rumble like the distant thunder of an incoming storm. “Squad Primas report.” Vitus voxed, being the advance squad Vitus knew squad primas would be key to engaging this foe “Enemy sig….  ….oaching Nec... legion” the vox was interrupted by the sound of bolterfire which cut its way through the smog. “Squad Primas say again!” Vitus voxed.

The reply was cracked and distorted by static but Vitus managed to make out one word  before the vox went dead “Necrons.”

10 Hours Later…

Vitus watch as the apothecary recovered the gene-seed from what remained of squad Primas, they had managed to buy enough time for the rest of the Exorcists to reposition and counter the advancing Necron force but at a cost.

It had been easy to identify the Necron Overlord, he had almost paraded himself at the head of  Necron phalanx as if to defy the Exorcists to kill him and Vitus had met that challenge with his full fury and now the Overlord was nothing more the molten slag at his feet.

“Captain, Alexandros requests an update.”

“Inform him that Paradise Falls is secured, it is now in Exorcist’ hands.”

Ch.5: Ruin & Reckoning

The screens glared in an intense green glow, buzzing constantly with the sound of crackling static. Sargent Manros watched intently. Then they appeared. Looming shadows of the MORTNEK PANDEMICA’s death machines; Unholy Knights of the Dark powers bidding. As he watched he was shocked to see much closer than expected, rising from the shadows one of the fiendish forms. The techpriest next to him reach out with a mechanical claw and pull a lever. In an instant the monstrosity was caught up in roiling energy similar to that of the Omnissiah's Wrath, the name unto which they had given the mighty storm of eldritch force. The techpriest returned to his mysterious rites just as quickly as it took the machine to be crushed and dismantled by those energies.
In awe Sargent Manros saw a figure skulk forward on the screen. Adorned in ornate Terminator armour and wielding a mighty and ancient blade, captain Puistfuar strode out receiving blast after blast of enemy fire as if it was nothing more than bites from an insect. The captain had been a mighty figure in this campaign upon Krillion. Marching forth into the green tide striking down the most ferocious Orks. He had even been stroked down by the vicious witch fires of sorcerers of the Thousand Sons and survived. But, even with the mighty captain Puistfuar the Iron Hands were not enough to stem this bloody carnage.
Sergeant Manros put his hand upon his bolt pistol and looked down upon the busy techpriest, he knew what had to be done. And once the task he had been granted by the mighty Iron Father Seanair, he knew he had to warn the Exorcists of this unstoppable march of death...

                                                                ********************
“And you say his vital signs show he still lives?” the monotone voice of Iron Father Seanair spoke.
“Alternative.” Buzzed back the voices of techpriests in unison.
Seanair sat in thought of these unfolding events. The threat of what lied in the darkness was too great but the loss of the captain weighed heavy upon him. It was he who had allowed the techpriests to remove the weakness of Puistfuars flesh and place him in that holy armour.
“Call upon our brothers of war, The Exorcists for assistance.” Seanair spoke.
“And what if they once more demand access to the Facility?”

A furious roar of passion not often heard from the Iron father rang out, “THE MENGNAR FACILITY IS UNDER THE PROTECTION OF THE IRON HANDS!”
“understood.”


                                                                  **********************

"Exorcists, I have been tasked with reaching out to you to humbly request your assistance. Our hold on The Burning Vales has been taken, an army of Knights lost to the forces of Chaos has marched across our lands reaping bloody destruction in its path. It has been a heavy blow to our forces, but an even more devastating by the fact our champion Captain Puistfuar has been taken by the enemy, he has been an important part in our war upon this planet, becoming a grand symbol to us of great power, his armour and Sword are also great and ancient relics. His loss has been a heavy blow. However we have become aware that he still maintain life signs. We are in a difficult position needing to maintain the defence of the Facility from a looming attack we expect soon. We call upon you to help us in our time of need to rescue and return our Captain from these monsters. Will you come to the aid of your battle brothers?

++end transmission++

Ch.5: Watchers No More

Footfalls echoed down the flame lit corridor, as Melchizedek made his way to meet the others. They were already in discussions in the great chamber, and the news he brought would provide the golden clarity they all had been seeking.

“How long will Alexandros be able to maintain control of the city?”

“The plague has been cleansed from the sea ports leading to the western continent but for how long is uncertain.”

“Then the time to commit is surely now, to postpone would only invite cataclysm, would it not?”

The question hung in the thickly scented air.
This was the way of the Ten Thousand. They were not like the Astartes who claimed superiority over their peers. Each member was equal, as the Emperor had decreed long ago.

The Tribunal had been in court ever since their arrival in Krillion’s orbit, assessing data, confirming information, analysing events as they unfolded. They were here, because they had purpose. They were here because a veiled threat had summoned their presence.
Krillion wasn’t just in danger, this had galactic consequences.
The enemy however had yet to reveal itself, or its nature and the orks were proving an irritating smokescreen.

“I respect your eagerness Malthael but our hand can not be force…”
“Raziel-Malek, speaks truth, confirmed Endymion.

Each Custodian was seated, surrounding a giant golden dials etched with the symbol of a burning celestial body. Hyperion’s hands had laid rested upon it as he quietly reflected on the words and thoughts shared amongst those gathered. Searching as an Emissary would for the messenge the Master would want them to know. Since Roboute Gulliman’s revival, since the Cicatrix Maledictum had opened… much had changed and much would still need to change. There! There was something there, just escaping his thought.
Hyperion rose from his seat, Malthael and several others who were stood leaning over the table as they spoke, fell silent, all eyes turned.

Hyperion began to draw breath and would have spoke if not for the chamber door’s opening inviting Melchizedek’s presence to the room.

He strode to the table, his eye’s cast upon each of them. “I bring clarity to our situation, the Master has revealed to us His plan.”
All those standing, returned to their seats, eager to hear the news.

“Emissaries and Shadowkeepers, as you know our Shield Host was dispatched here to this world for matters of importance, Tyrael's has had The Exorcists relay information to our cause to uncover it’s reasons. Now the Emperor reveals our intent.

A creature of the darkest storm, will bring doom upon us if it is allowed to erupt from slumber if we can not get to it in time. The picture was clear, this is an enemy of ancient pernicious, left hidden and forgotten.
Hyperion eyes grew wide as the words that were shared matched those of his own. This indeed was it.
“When do we go?” Artorigus asked the real question .

“When Krillion’s skies rain with fire, that will be when the Ardent Halo strike…”
Suddenly there was a bright light that shone through the port screens, the entire chamber lit up casting shadows of all gathered within. A moment later, the klaxon’s sounded and the light’s aboard The Nautilus dimmed, replaced with red illumination.

The Adeptus Custodes all calmly rose from their seats, Melchizedek’s vox chimed, his chosen-serf didn’t need to wait for a greeting nor a question, “My Lord, there has been an explosion”.

Ch.5: The Price of Loyality

Malachai the insane began life as a loyalist guardsmen commissar and fought bravely for the imperium on many worlds. His last battle for the loyalists was against the army he now joins. His unit was on the verge of defeat trying to lay siege to Xaphans defences. Malachai and a small unit of veteran Kasrkin had managed to infiltrate into the defences ready to ambush Xaphan and his barely defended command squad. Once they entered the inner sanctum the full horror of Xaphans madness was revealed. Still living bodies were moulded into the wall begging for death. Demons and rotten creatures whispered and warped on every surface. Vats of disease were everywhere and the entire area smelt of death. The scent of disease could even be sensed through their gas masks. Edging forward the unit began to hear the voices of Xaphan and his commanders. An evil laugh began echoing through the dark corridors. “The pitiful humans think they can ambush me. They think the walls do not inform me of this idiotic plan! Oh Malachai hurry up and get here i have a present for you" That was the last thing they heard before darkness took them.

Ch.5: The Lost & The Found

The herald stood still, the remnants of its predecessor were a smear now, dissolving into the ground of the new nursery, the dented helm used to crush the bearer of ill tidings was lying discarded on the floor. Sarcoma has become more prone to rages since his recent dealings with the followers of Khorne, being in the presence of a Bloodthirster had obviously had an impact on his normally calm demeanour. Sarcoma looked directly at his new herald, ‘what news do you bring?’ He growled
‘We’ve found something!’ Squeaked the terrified lesser Daemon. A smile crept across Sarcoma’s face as this new discovery was relayed to him. He would have revenge on the Exorcists, his Astartes former brethren would regret interfering with his plans.

Ch.4: Recalibration

Various technical lights and holo projections were changing and moving on the comms screens in front of keldrak. Suddenly a radio link crackled into life.

"Sir we have news that the secret weapons are now prepared for the assault"

Keldrak smiled then began to reply "command all troops to prepare to leave the planet. My champions will take this planet instead. I know malachai the insane is itching to destroy the enemy"

A few seconds of crackling  sounded out from the radio.

"Thankyou my lord i will begin out forces preparing to enter orbit"

A scuttling creature semi floated and dragged itself into the chamber. Its skull face twisted awkwardly while its multiple pincered arms span and whirred.

A monotone voice began speaking from somewhere within its hunched carapace.

"Lord keldrak the new weapons are making planetfall. Are the champions ready to be interred within their new honoured bodies? The modification you required is fully operational. Any targeter that focuses both  its crosshairs on you for any reason will automatically lock all

 weapon systems. If firing is activated the thrones of command will detonate with no chance of organic survival. I hope that is satisfactory my lord."

Keldrak clenched his fist then turned to the scyllax class servitor

"That is very satisfactory. Sadly loyalty isnt always possible in such situations"

The servitor left closely followed by keldrak. Looking out into the temporary base he could see his troops looking like swarms of ants. Activity was all over the base but then he looked out towards the horizon.

Huge silhouettes could be seen surrounded by various flying craft and machinery.

Destruction was coming to Krillion

Ch.4: Ramification

Alexandros's mind returned to his body with a start, the room covered in scorch marks from the psychic discharge, the Demons taunts still resounding within his mind, he could feel an anger rising deep in his chest that such a being was existing but it had made a mistake... it had given him a name,  “Sarcoma” Alexandros breathed the name holding it in his mind for a moment longer and this would be a fatal mistake.

Slowly he raised himself to his feet, his body fighting the movement but he pushed the pain away bring his mind to the paths that lay ahead.

 After the Tsunami Alexandros had order auspex scans to locate its source, such an event was not uncommon but over the centuries he'd learned to be extremely careful of dismissing such events as natural. The scans had shown that a power surge had come from near the Mengnar facility in the lower hemisphere of Krillion, trigging the tsunami.

The door behind him open with a faint click and a servitor entered, it's metal legs clanking against the steel floor. It carried a set of worn robe, the once deep red dulled and faded, its ornate hem frayed and torn. Lifting it from the arms of the servitor Alexandros then motioned for it to go. The robes hung loosely on his huge frame, he thought back to the first time he'd been given theses robes so many centuries ago and the honour and burden he felt at accepting them, a shrill beep echoed over the vox speaks breaking Alexandros from his thoughts.

“Librarian Arathorn, we have a vox transmissions from Captain Silas, he says that the Telokin Fortress has been secured and the Iron Hand forces are on route from St Kinaca to take over command of the fortress.”

“Very good, tell Silas to regroup in St Kinaca and prepare his man for immediate redeployment to the south, possible unknown threat, battle conditions expected.”

“It will be done my Lord.” Alexandros could hear the strain in the office of the fleets voice, even over vox transmitters to hear him speak could cause difficulties to arise in humans, but he'd keep his orders brief so as not to burden the officer. This power surge would required inspecting at the very least and if some other forces were in play, Silas would silence them and ensure that no threat was posed to their mission.

+++Planet side+++

Silas waited by the long range vox transmitter, he knew that he would not have to wait long for a response.

“Incoming transmission.” A hollow metallic voice chimed over the speakers.

“Regroup in St Kinaca but remain ready for immediate redeployment to the south and inspection of manger facility, possible enemy force behind Iron hand lines, battle conditions to be expected.”

Silas's eyes narrowed momentarily at the last part of this order, “battle conditions.” To presume the Iron Hands had allowed an unknown force behind their lines would be an insult to their ability as a chapter and would need to be handled carefully but if there was a threat it could not go unchecked.

However Silas had learned to trust Alexandros judgement and understood that he never acted without reason.

“Established contact with the Iron Hands immediately, I have an urgent message for the Iron Father.”

“Yes my lord at once.” Replied the vox officer to Silas left. “Transmission ready my lord.”

Silas paused briefly staring at the transmitter, all threats would need to be eliminated if there mission was to succeed.

“Iron Father....”

Ch.3: Meeting of Minds

As Colonel Cranis had spent the past few days in Exilium city finalising the arrangements of the Crusade with Jarl Hrulf Wyrdmane, and Captain Stefano Salbatore. It had been a long process however the foundation had finally been put in place and the Colonel could finally return to the front lines where his men were dealing with a rampaging Ork Warboss. When Galen was heading to the port where his personal valkyrie was due to land he was met by an unusual sight. A Primaris Space Marine clad in the colours and insignia of the Crimson Fists, while also adorned in cream and red robes as well as what looked like a Psychic Hood.
Librarian Heracio Santos, The Timeflayer, was waiting there expectantly, the colonel had never met him personally but had heard about and seen him watching from afar.

“Milord, I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced, I -” the Librarian raised his hand, stopping Galen in his tracks. “Introductions are not needed Colonel, I am quite aware of who you are, and as for me…I see your suspicions, I am he.”
“I see” said Colonel Cranis, showing some confusion “Is there something I can help you with before we leave?”.
 “Yes Colonel, why were you so adamant that the Ork Warboss that has recently come forth… is directed towards the Tower of Angels?”, before Colonel Cranis responded “Perhaps you could tell me on the way...”, said The Timeflayer as he motioned to the Valkyrie coming in to land, without turning his head.

A loud roar filled the air as the Valkyrie took flight, soaring through the skies. The inside was relatively quiet compared to the violent sound of engines outside, and in the rear compartment sat the Colonel and The Timeflayer. “It was when we moved to secure the Forest of Whispers, north of Terra’s Rock. As soon as we arrived our Astropath started acting strangely, I'm not sure what you would call it but he start to give detailed knowledge of where the enemy would come-”,
“This would be signs of Divination Colonel” interrupted The Timeflayer,
“Signs of Divination, which he has never done before. After we secured the area we called in our Psyker Primaris to investigate and performed something called an auto-seance to which we found to be the work of something called a…guiding spirit”.
 “I guess you’ve been receiving visions and one would be of the Ork Warboss, correct?”, Asked the Librarian, surety firmly in his voice.
“That would be the long and short of it, yes”. Answered the Colonel, unsure as to whether he was actually answering a question or merely confirming the words of this mystic warrior.
“Curious, I don’t suppose your Psykers would assist me whence we land…?” asked The Timeflayer,
“Of course, but how did you know we were going there?”.

                                                                                             ****

The ritual had begun. Chanting of the Psykers drowned out the noise of the wind rustling the leaves and in but a single moment, even their voices were silenced, as Heracio Santos projected himself into the warp, stretched far from reality.
He saw darkness. He saw light. He saw swirling and he saw focus. His conscious turned his will into human form, reflecting his physical self. He took an illusionary breath as his presence embraced the realm beyond time itself. 

Creatures flickered towards him and were thrown away, his mind warded and shielded, weaponised to fight such foul entities that preyed upon those weaker than he. The TimeFlayer noticed something that was. It had form. He drew near to it. As he did the mass grew wider and resolved an image. A giant shadow standing tall over all its domain, proud and mighty. Then it spawned into many shadows that scuttled away. The vision then folded upon itself and swam in the currents between everything and nothing. Santos watched it go until a hand snatched it from the point of its existence.
“That is not yours to see. You are not the witness.” Came a shrouded commanding voice.
The Librarian studied the warp, searching for whom had spoken.
“Begone Timekeeper! These are not yours to see. Destiny is not fixed. Always moving. Ever shifting. Your presence endangers us here.” said the voice.
“Who are you?” quizzed Santos, as he watched a will manifest itself into that of a running humanoid.
The Primaris gave chased, pursing the spirit of the voice.
Flashes of light burst past them as they ran in no direction, somewhere to nowhere.
Santos caught a glimpse of a sky on fire, he blinked and saw a new picture, what looked to be a mighty Ork roaring and charging upon a dark tall tower.
“Leave this place at once. You are changing events the longer you dwell...”
Heracio Santos accepted the warning, but he still needed answers. Something was eluding him. Just out of reach. He reached out to grasp the spirit and has he did. He fell.

The Librarian tumbled. Then he stopped. There was no more spirit only the voice.
“Suania abhors Doom. The Mouth cannot open” this phrase repeated again and again and again.
Santo’s manifested will rose in the darkness, glowing with radiant light.
“Show yourself!” demanded the Librarian.
All went quiet.

                                                                                                 ****

                                                                     

The chamber was cold lit by a single light set high in the celling, the walls engraved with rune markings and wards of protection. After the battle at Paradise Falls Alexandros had secluded himself to this chamber for several days, his mind adrift in the warp searching for a path through the turmoil and chaos that fought to cast him out at every turn. For days he'd before rebuffed time and time again and despite the coolness of the chamber a layer of sweat covered his frame and his breath had become ragged, testament to the effort these ventures into the warp were taking on his body.

Once more he prepared his mind, his breathing becoming focused and steady, his eyes closed in meditation and his lips reciting ancient texts of protection, “ this time he would not allow himself to be pushed back, this time he'd push though the storm and beings that fought to throw him out! ” with these thoughts resounding though his head Alexandros slowly opened his eyes, the dark green replaced by what appeared to be a blue flame which slowly grew in intensity and then it was gone and Alexandros once more cast his psychic will in to the warp.

The onslaught of colour and sound that struck Alexandros was like a hammer and for a moment threatened to throw him back out of the warp but he pressed on, something was different this time there had been a shift in the current of the warp and after a few more moments the onslaught subsidised and for a instances there was nothing just silence which was then replaced by a voice, a voice that started as nothing but a whisper at first as if far of but slowly getting louder and moving nearer the words beginning to take form till Alexandros could finally make out  what the words were saying, “Show yourself! ” came the words, now no longer a voice but a hurricane which was followed by a light searching the warp as if sensing his presence was near but unable to find it and if he wish it the light would never come to rest on his whereabouts but he had waited in the shadows long enough it was time to see who else had set their eyes on Krillion.

The Chaos and onslaught of the warp faded away as Alexandros stepped into the light, much like when a pool forms on a mighty river, a moment of peace.  

“A Timeseer..?” The voice came in a hush whisper has if right in his ear, the warp shifting around as the words played out and a humanoid shape began to form before him has the being started to become visible. The scream of colour in the warp began to fade replaced by an illusion of stone walls, the glaring light by the dull flicker of candles  and the overpowering roaring drifted away till it disappeared completely leaving nothing but a hush silence behind.

 Heracio Santos, the Librarian of the Crimson Fists extended his psychic will adjusting the altered surroundings and to the being that had formed before him, it's body shrouded in a cloak that hid the upper half of its face but all that met him was a blank nothing ness, this and the lack of any presence beforehand or even the slightest hint that something was coming set him on edge.
“…Are you the Spirit I am following? ” Inquired Heracio has he took in the new surroundings that had been created but made sure to keep his focus fixed on the being before him never allowing it to slip from his senses.
“I am Alexandros Arathorn, Chief Liberian of the Exorcists”  came the reply, his voice was quiet but followed by a faint echo has if repeated by a unseen person.
Heracio weight this answer carefully searching for signs of deceit but could not find any, aside from their name Heracio had heard preciously little about the Exorcist Chapter and so remained guard in case of an attack if what this being said turned out to be false.

“Why wasn't I able to sense your presence in the warp..... brother” Heracio added this last word carefully his mind alert and probing for any sign of hidden intent but there was none.
Alexandros admired Heracio's directness and allowed a faint smile to play across his lips before replying.

“Induction into any chapter will leave scars weather of the physical or not, the Exorcist are no different and our.... training has a more noticeable effect. But now I pose you a question…Timeseer, do you think it is by chance or design that we have met today and if by design then whose?”
As if in response the whole structure shook has if hit by a bomb, the impact causing a sharp stab of pain to shoot though Alexandros's body but he composed himself and focused on maintaining the structure within the warp but the assault was relentless and the next blow caused the whole building to flicker and crack. Alexandros had attempted to shield them from the notice of any warp entities that passed by, at least for a brief period of time but there was only so long that minds such as theirs would go unnoticed in the warp..... However they should not have been found this quickly, whatever was breaking though the barriers he'd put in place had been looking for them.

A wall to the right of Heracio crumbled away and the assault of colour pushed in, dancing over the stone work that remain. “Ready yourself Dorn’s Son!” the voice came quietly in his head “I cannot hold it much longer.”
More of the structure turned to dust and was sucked into the warp and briefly he caught a glimpse of what was attacking, it was crude and disgusting.

                                                                                              ****
“Come out. Come out. Sarcoma can hear you. Sacroma can hear you scheming and plotting…” came the slurring and flem-filled voice, followed by a series of coughing.
An obese arm of rotting muscle leaking with pus swung in collapsing a portion of the wall.
“Tell Sarcoma your whispers… Sarcoma can take away your troubles…I can see you little ones…” The daemon dribbling his words with each syllable.

Heracio and Alexandros took cover behind a chunk of fallen wall, a wall that existed but all the same was formed from willpower. The Daemon poked his ugly fat head through the breach.

“It’s going to the right” informed Heracio with a whisper.
“Sarcoma! How did it know we were here?” Asked Alexandros as a familiar sight slid its plump form through the gap.
“You know this Daemon?” counted the Timeflayer with his own question
“Paradise Falls…” began the Exoricst
“…You are on Krillion?”
“…Indeed, should I surmise you are too Timeseer?”
The Daemon Sarcoma threw his sweaty, giant flabby arms around knocking debris everywhere, the candles blowing out one by one.
“We cannot linger here Alexandros, Realspace.”
“Where are you going mortals? Planning to find Sarcoma? You cannot stop Sarcoma. Let Sarcoma embrace you…”

The words of the Daemon fell faint, as Heracio Santos was sucked back into reality with such force that the Primaris Librarian shot backwards and onto the floor, scorch marks remained in the ground from where he stood.
Many of the Imperial Psykers had blood running from their eyes and noses, some had fallen to floor comatose.

Colonel Cranis stood over The Timeflayer, so too did his Primaris Psyker; Castus Rourke, both looked concerned.
“I’m sorry my lord, we…we felt it best to pull you from the Ritual. Your form was agitated and many of our psykers were shrieking and bloody. Did you get the answers you were seeking?”
Heracio allowed himself a moment to sit and take in all he had witnessed. If anything The Timeflayer had more questions than answers. But perhaps…if he was to find Alexandros then maybe the answers would soon follow.
“I need to go” remarked the Crimson Fist has he picked himself up and headed for the nearest Valkyre.

                                                                                                    ****

The Daemon Prince Sarcoma the Intumescent fizzled away, gurgling with laughter as his prized mortal Alexandros retreated from the warp. The Warp fell dark with colour once more.
Only one was left. He turned to enter realspace himself. Ardashir opened his eyes.