Dark Apostle

'You and your wretched kin turned your back on the glorious Emperor and all of humanity to embrace damnation,' said Havorn, crawling back towards his fallen adjutant and the dead man's laspistol.

'The Emperor turned his back on us!' raged the traitor. 'Only through the unified worship of true divinities can mankind be saved. Your False Emperor is nothing more than a rotting corpse perched atop a golden high-chair, a puppet for bureaucrats and taxmen. And you pathetic humans pray to him? You are the lowest of scum, ignorant and embracing that ignorance.'

Havorn's hand slid behind him and closed on the grip of the laspistol.

'Your soul will be damned when you leave this world, while I will go to the blessed Emperor's side in glory and light,' said Havorn, trying to keep the bastard distracted.

'I say my soul is already damned in this world, and that there will be nothing but hell waiting for you,' said the traitor.

'I'll see you there,' said Havorn and he swung the laspistol up, firing it straight into the face of the Chaos Marine. The traitor fell backwards with a cry of anger and pain, and lay still.

Havorn pushed himself to his feet, pain throbbing from his shattered cheek-bone, and he began to stagger away.

A clawed hand wrapped around his neck from behind, and he was lifted into the air and turned to face the traitor. The wound on the traitor's forehead was closing as he watched, the bone knitting together and flesh re-forming over the bullet hole, leaving not a scratch upon the traitor's darkly handsome face.

'Yes, I will see you in hell, human,' said Burias-Drak'shal as he plunged his clawed hand through the brigadier-general's chest. With one decisive wrench, he pulled the Elysian commander's still-beating heart from the old man's broken ribcage and watched as the life left his eyes. He held the beating heart to his mouth, tasting the sweet, warm blood, and threw the lifeless corpse dismissively to the ground.

The Chimera slammed into Burias-Drak'shal with shocking force, sending him flying out in front of the armoured personnel carrier. As he tried to rise to his feet it slammed into him again, and he disappeared beneath its whirling tracks, sixty tonnes of Imperial tank rolling over him.

A ripple of movement spread out from the base of the Gehemehnet, the blackened earth around the tower shimmering and wavering. Electricity coalesced down the tower and surged across the surface of the ground before dissipating. Glowing light began to spill from the mortar between the massive stone blocks, which began to bulge and warp like molten rubber. A daemonic, fanged face appeared within the stone, pushing outwards, straining to break into the mortal realm.

'Not just yet, precious,' said Jarulek, caressing the daemonic manifestation. Claws appeared in the stone, reaching out towards the Dark Apostle and he chuckled. He spoke a word in the language of the daemon and the creature recoiled, its face a mask of childish, shamefaced repentance.

'Not just yet,' he repeated and the daemon retreated back within the Gehemehnet.

CHAPTER TWENTY

For a day and night the Chaos Marines held the Imperials at bay, though they were driven slowly back, unable to contain the sheer numbers of the foe advancing against them. There were moments of brief respite in the action, as the Elysians gathered themselves for another push forwards, but always there were skirmishes and minor actions. The Skitarii tech-guard cohorts advanced tirelessly. Without the threat of the potent air defences that had been housed within the palace, the heavens were filled with Elysian and Imperial Navy aircraft, and Elysian drop-troopers descended through the darkness above to fall behind the enemy lines. Laron felt a touch of admiration and awe for the enemy, for they fought without rest as never-ending waves of the Imperials attacked, and they resisted every push and new attack with great fervour. He dismissed the thought as soon as it formed. To even think such a thing bordered on heresy.

Arcs of lightning reached out from the tower to ensnare Valkyries, Thunderbolts and drop-troopers that strayed close, and they were dragged through the air into its sheer stone sides. Pilots fought with their controls as the circuitry of their aircrafts was fried and they were drawn in towards the tower. There were no explosions, however; they merely disappeared as they should have struck stone, sucked into the Ether, to be fed upon by the army of daemons waiting just beyond the thin membrane separating the physical world from the warp.