more than a shadowy blur； and he narrowed his eyes and allowed the daemon Drak’shal to rear up
within him。
The eldar vehicle speared through the air like a dart； jinking around the burnt…out hulls of
Imperial vehicles； dodging the blanket of incoming fire。
It straightened and gunned its engines； accelerating directly towards Burias…Drak’shal and
Magos Darioq； who stood immobile behind him； apparently unconcerned by the carnage。
The cannons； under…slung beneath the chassis of the jetbike； roared； spitting a stream of splinters
towards the possessed warrior； but he was already moving； springing into the air； the heavy icon of
the Host held in one hand as if it weighed nothing at all。
The fire of the jetbike’s cannons flashed towards Darioq； but a glowing sphere of light
surrounded him； and they rebounded off the energy barrier to leave him unscathed。
Burias…Drak’shal leapt over the elegantly tapering faring of the jetbike； his taloned hand locking
around the eldar rider’s throat and ripping him from his saddle。 The riderless bike veered sharply
and flipped； exploding against the tunnel wall as Burias…Drak’shal landed in a crouch； the eldar
warrior helpless in his grasp。
Lifting the eldar as if he was a child； Burias…Drak’shal slammed its head into a corner of scrap
metal； once part of an Imperial vehicle。 Its head splattered； the frail skull splintering like porcelain。
“Weakling thing；” commented Burias…Drak’shal； flicking the corpse away from him。
A blade rammed into his back； and Burias…Drak’shal roared in anger and pain。 The blade was
wrenched agonisingly against his spine and he twisted； swinging the icon around in a lethal arc。
The blow didn’t hit anything； indeed； there did not seem to be anything behind him。 With his
witch…sight； he registered a shadowy shape in the corner of his vision； and then twisted away as a
blade stabbed towards him once again； putting some space between him and his nigh…on invisible
assailant。
His eyes narrowed as they locked on a lean； ghostlike figure。 It became visible for a second；
taunting him； and he saw a slim figure； its skin as black as pitch； with arcane sigils cut into its flesh。
Its eyes were milky white； with no pupils； and it snarled at him； exposing a maw filled with tiny；
barbed teeth。
Then the figure was nothing more than a shadow again； a vague ghostly shape that surged
towards him in a blur of motion。 Burias…Drak’shal swung his icon like a hammer； the spiked tip
humming as it arced through the air。 The shadow…creature ducked beneath the blow and came up
inside his guard； and Burias…Drak’shal hissed in pain as a blade rammed into his side。
Burias…Drak’shal connected with a heavy backhand blow that sent the shadow…creature tumbling
backwards。 It came to rest on all fours； and its form once more became visible as it snarled up at him
in hatred。 Then it was gone； disappearing into thin air as if a veil had been drawn over it。
Burias…Drak’shal experienced an unfamiliar emotion： unease。
The creature had seemed at once familiar and alien。 He thought he had scented the power of the
warp within its being； but the creature had been no daemon； nor truly one of the possessed。
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His slit eyes flicked from side to side； wary for another sudden attack； but none came。 He
slammed the butt of his icon into the floor； cracking the plascrete platform； and roared his defiance。
Marduk heard the roar； but pushed it out of his mind as he drew his chainsword； feeling the ecstatic
bond as the daemon weapon melded with him。 Thorns in the hilt burrowed into the flesh of his palm
through the plugs in his gauntlet； and he surged towards the eldar warriors。
The disciplined warriors of the 13th coterie responded instantly to his rallying cry； rising from
cover with bolters thumping。 They began to advance on the enemy； bearing down on them； moving
in two unstoppable phalanxes； the zones of their fire…arcs overlapping。
Each of the coteries had been joined by one of the Anointed； and these behemoths of muscle and
metal stomped forwards； shaking off the fire directed against them and snapping off bursts from
their twin…linked bolters。
The closest enemy was less than twenty metres away； and still； foolishly Marduk thought；
advancing towards the Word Bearers。
“Slaughter the unbelievers！” roared Marduk； breaking into a run； his bolt pistol bucking in his
hands as he fired。
The warriors of the 13th moved up in support； snapping off shots as they bore down on the
enemy。
Marduk saw two of the enemy ripped apart by bolt fire。 One…bolt round detonated in the
shoulder of one of the eldar figures； ripping its arm clear in a spray of blood； and another was torn in
two as a burst of fire caught it in its slender midsection。
A spray of splinters embedded themselves in Marduk’s chest plate； but he did not slow his
charge； and pumped another burst of shots towards a pair of eldar raiders。 Displaying inhuman
speed； they darted to the side and his shots went wide； ripping chunks out of the wall。
He roared his hatred as he closed on one of the eldar； and swung his chainsword in a murderous
arc that would have cleaved the frail warrior in two had it connected。 The eldar swayed under the
blow with a speed that； for all his Astartes genetic coding and training； made Marduk feel slow and
awkward； and slashed a groove across Marduk’s thigh with the curving bayonet blade beneath the
barrel of its rifle。
The blade bit into his flesh； and Marduk hissed in anger。 He threw a backhanded slash towards
the eldar’s midsection； the hungry teeth of his chainsword whirring madly。 The black…armoured
figure dodged backwards； the very tip of the chainsword scant centimetres from its belly； and
stabbed with the tip of its blade towards Marduk’s throat。
The First Acolyte twisted his body as the blade darted towards him； and its length sank into his
shoulder plate。 Punching with his right hand； which held his bolt pistol； Marduk snapped the blade
off； leaving the tip embedded in his armour。 Dropping his shoulder； he threw himself forward；
slamming into the frail xenos warrior even as it tried to sidestep。
The force of the blow shattered the eldar’s chest； and Marduk bore it to the ground。 He smashed
the pommel of his chainsword into the raider’s face； driving it downwards like a blunt dagger；
smashing the faceplate of its helmet into splinters and pulverising its skull。
Rising； his chest heaving； Marduk grunted as a blade stabbed into his side； sliding between his
armour plates and burying itself deep in his flesh。 Dropping his bolt pistol； he grabbed the arm of his
attacker； crushing the slender bones of its forearm。 It struggled to get away from him； but his grip
was like iron； keeping it pinned in place； and he hacked his chainsword into its neck。
Whirring teeth shredded through black armour and blood began to spray as Marduk forced the
weapon into the alien’s body。 It ripped through tightly bound muscle and sinew； and tore apart the
delicate vertebrae of the eldar’s neck。 With a heavy kick； Marduk sent the dead eldar flying away
from him； and dropped to one knee to retrieve his bolt pistol。
Hefting the pistol； Marduk found no new target to unleash his wrath upon。 The eldar slipped
away into the shadows with ungodly speed； moving like shadows being dispelled by the appearance
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of a lantern。 They were gone in an instant； and Marduk stood breathing heavily as he surveyed the
carnage of the frantic battle。
The fight had lasted less than a minute； all told； but the savagery； swiftness and effectiveness of
the attack was staggering。
Three members of the 13th were down； one of them not moving as blood poured from a wound
to his head； too severe for the potent larraman cells of his Astartes make…up to seal。 Two members
of Khalaxis’s 17th coterie were dead； two more injured。 Nine eldar had been slain； and three more
had been injured and callously abandoned by their brethren。
Marduk strode towards one of the injured lean warriors。 Its left leg had been blown off at the
knee； and it was trying to crawl away； leaving a bloody smear on the floor beneath it。
Marduk placed his foot on the lower back of the wounded eldar； pinning it in place as Kol Badar
stalked to his side。 The black armour was curiously soft and pliable beneath his foot； but as he
exerted more pressure he felt it strengthen and grow rigid； resisting him。 He kicked the eldar over
onto its back； and it stared up at him through elongated eye lenses。 Its hatred of him was palpable；
and its hand flashed down to its thigh； reaching for a jagged blade strapped around its lean limb。
Its movement was crisp and precise； and the blade was flashing towards Marduk’s throat。 He
caught the eldar’s wrist and gave it a wrench； breaking its slender bones with a snap； and it dropped
the blade to the ground； hissing。
“I’ve never seen their faces；” said Marduk； pinning the eldar’s broken arm beneath his knee and
reaching for its helmet； ignoring the feeble attempts by the xenos humanoid to fight him off as he
tried to work out the best way to remove it。 Growing quickly frustrated； he simply hooked the
fingers of both hands under the lip of the helmet around the eldar’s scrawny neck and pulled。 With a
wrench； he ripped the helmet in two； almost breaking the alien’s neck in the process。
The First Acolyte tossed the ruptured helmet aside as he stared down at the revealed face。
It was unnaturally long and thin； ethereal and otherworldly。 High cheekbones and a pointed chin
gave it a severe； angular shape that was at once delicate and darkly handsome； yet utterly alien。 Its
head was bereft of hair； and sharp； jagged runes or glyphs of xenos origin； similar in shape to the
elegant blades of the eldar； were tattooed across the left half of its face。 Its lips were thin and
sneering； and its eyes were shaped like almonds； elegant； alien and filled with hate。
“It’s a frail as a woman；” said Marduk。 “Reminds me of Fulgrim’s Legionaries。”
Kol Badar snorted。
Although the III Legion； the Emperor’s Children； were mighty warriors and had wisely thrown
their weight in behind the Warmaster and embraced Chaos； there was no love lost between the Word
Bearers and the Emperor’s Children。
Where the Word Bearers were severe； their lives dominated by ritual； prayer and penance； the
Emperor’s Children were renowned for their flamboyant decadence； embracing excess in all its
guises。 Where the Word Bearers worshipped Chaos in all its varied manifestations； the Emperor’s
Children dedicated themselves solely to the darkling prince of Chaos： Slaanesh。
The eldar glared up at Marduk hatefully。
“I agree； yet they are a worthy foe；” said Kol Badar。
“Worthy？ They are xenos。 They deserve nothing more than extermination；” replied Marduk。
“I do not disagree；” said Kol Badar； “but it does my soul good to fight against an enemy that can
at least test us。”
“Their tainted； alien weaponry is potent；” agreed Marduk； reluctantly； gripping the eldar roughly
behind its neck with one hand。 He raised his fist。
“And they are certainly quick；” said Marduk。 slamming his fist down； punching through the
eldar’s face； “but they break easily enough once you get a hold of them。” Marduk shook blood； br