Prologue

"Belief"

Captain Helstrom strolled down the deck halls of The Dragon Heart with a purpose that might have toppled the serfs hard at work if they had not had the sense to give the giant a wide birth to pass through. Helstrom paid no mind to the smaller humans as he made his way to the hanger bay, where the thunderhawk Fury Fang was being directed to land. On board were civilians from the planet's surface, along with a small combat squad of marines for guard. But it wasn't the humans that the marines were protecting. It was an adamantine case, whose contents were a single stone. It was for this case that Helstrom thundered down the halls to collect and personally place in the mighty battle barges hold on the Chapter Master's final order. Helstrom was worried for his old friend Kreagus, but knew that death was just another part of war. However this did not stop him from preparing a new contingent of marines to make for the planet's surface to reinforce the starport. While he had direct orders not to make planetfall himself, he had every intention to aid where he could. With a turn around a corner the entrance to the hanger was in sight, with a warning light blinking, informing all those on this side that the other was void open. Helstrom quickened his pace to the great doors and approached the tech marine who stood with the rest of the work crew, all ready to burst into the room once it had been pressurized and made safe to work. Helstrom gave a quick look at the faces of the tech serfs and the markings of the tech marine to identify who exactly they were. While he could identify the tech marine as his own Crassus, he didn't know the crew nearly as well. Had he been on his own ship, the Strike Cruiser White Wyrm, he would know every crew member by first name.

"Status report." Helstrom had no time and was in no mood to fraternize with his subordinate.

"The Fang just landed, and the pressure is nearly ready. I have to admit, the crew on this ship has impressed me a great deal, captain. Their response time is near perfect."

Helstrom grunted in acknowledgement. The crew of The Dragon Heart seemed to be in perfect sync. If they were any better, Helstrom would swear that they weren't human. Of course if they weren't, then they would be in equal company. The genetically modified captain looked at the humans and smiled, briefly remembering what it was to be human. But he wasn't one anymore.

Helstrom was a space marine, and even more, he was a Purple Dragon space marine. He had survived over a thousand years of service to the Imperium, and fought against every foe known to mankind, and even a few that weren't. He commanded the 7th Company of the Purple Dragons, and was known as one of the greatest minds in the crafting of arms and armor. It was his skill that crafted the armor his chapter master wore down on the planet below, and it was his skill that crafted the greatest weapon within the Dragons armory back on their home world Grendal. He stood a little less than 3 meters tall when in his armor, and bore his heraldry of an anvil being struck by lightning upon a small shield that was attached to the left pauldron of his armor. Like all Purple Dragons, his armor was a deep violet with a golden trim, along with a secondary trim of red to indicate his captain hood and relationship to the Adeptus Mechanicus. Hanging from his back was one of his most prized possessions, an adamantine scale cloak, crafted by Tu'shan, a space marine from the Salamanders chapter, a gift in the name of friendship, and a symbol of gratitude. He did not have his glaive on his person, as it was too big to maneuver with ease in the tight hall of the battle barge, but Helstrom had his share of weaponry in the bolt revolver on his side, and yet another tool of war crafted by him within his left gauntlet. With a flick of his wrist, he could send a surge of lighting from his finger tips to strike his foes. This technology would be deemed heretical if it were found out by the Mechanicus, but Helstrom was smarter than to go flinging this power about with no abandon. The technology was still rather raw and wild, making it to where Helstrom was reluctant to use it in the first place. But it was worth seeing the look on his foes faces when they thought they were battling a librarian. The left of his face was scarred badly from war, and had lost his left eye in a battle against the necrons on Grendal, which had been replaced with a very compelling bionic. If Helstrom had not crafted it himself, even he might have been fooled by the bionic that resided where his eye once did. While he was not a fan of augmetic replacement, he had to admit, the bionic eye performed better than the previous occupant.

Helstrom looked up from the humans to see the warning light cut off and hear a mechanical hiss of the locks on the doors open. Without a word, the tech serfs who were waiting surged forward as the doors opened wide to see to their work. Crassus moved with haste as well, but while the serfs made for different consoles and smaller craft, he headed to the Fang, whose access ramp had yet to fall open. Helstrom made no movements towards the thunderhawk until all the serfs had entered the hanger, watching as the men and women scurried to see their duties done before the ship took off again to return to the surface. On the other side of the hanger, he saw the two squads of marines file in and prepare to board vessel to reinforce their battle brothers below. There was also the combat squad aboard the vessel, and the combat squad that served as a screening force for the civilians. Close to thirty marines in one room, but this could not quell the sudden tension Helstrom felt. He hoped it was just his nerves playing with him, but Helstrom could not shake a feeling that something was wrong. Deciding not to take any chances, he unbuckled the clasp that kept his dragon pattern bolt revolver secure at his side, and rested his hand on the hilt of the weapon.

Stepping in to the hanger and making a steady pace to the thunderhawk, Helstrom looked about the room one last time. The two squads had filed in and stood at attention, ready to board as soon as the civilians had cleared the vessel and Helstrom recovered the case. Crassus was doing a quick run through the Fangs systems to ensure that it was in combat condition, while the serfs continued their workings within the hanger. Some had begun to section off an area to herd the civilians to, and then escort them to a holding area where they could be screened for taint or infection. The access ramp of the thunderhawk had finally begun to descend, not at a slow pace, but slower than Helstrom would have liked. He wanted to be back on the bridge, or better yet, joining the marines who were descending to the planet. With a loud metallic thud, the ramp touched the floor of the hanger and settled. Close to fifty civilians poured out, each one with a relieved look upon their face, believing they had finally escaped the horror that had eclipsed their planet. Some wept for those lost, while other cried tears of joy for surviving to see an end to the conflict. The combat squad began their job immediately, directing the survivors to the area cleared out by the serfs, where they would be directed again to a secure room. Helstrom noticed the expected lack of luggage and belongings of the people, and made a mental note to supply them with fresh cloths and time to cleanse the filth of war from their skin. Helstrom was now at the mouth of the thunderhawk, and saw the combat squad inside. From their position in the ship, Helstrom knew that they weren't coming out, and would return to the surface to continue fighting to the last breath, and Helstrom wouldn't dare refuse them that honor. However, he needed the case which was locked against the wall in the back of the craft. A medium sized case hung by the straps that held it, its contents tightly secured. Walking past the marines, Helstrom noticed the distinct smell of gun smoke and blood. Lamenting that it would the closest he would get to the battlefield, Helstrom unbuckled the case from the wall. While he didn't want to do it, he needed to confirm that the stone was inside and in one piece. Punching in the access code and bypassing the genelock, Helstrom popped the locks on the case and began to slowly open it. As soon as he started to crack it, an eerie pink glow began to shine from between the lid and bottom of the case, and only grew as Helstrom continued to open it. He pushed the lid all the way open and gazed at the flawless gem within, perfectly smooth and oval. About the size of a human fist, it emitted a deathly glow of evil and damnation. If any lesser being had gazed upon it, they would have been driven mad by the energies that this stone gave out. Helstrom cocked his head to the side as he took in the binding circle around the stone. While the Dragons did not practice the prayers and litanies of faith in the Emperor, they did not ignore the effectiveness of certain patterns and glyphs against the forces of chaos. The circle that surrounded the stone did not look correct, or more to the point, they did not look complete. It was then he noticed a small wisp of smoke of the side the case, a wisp he would have missed with his normal eyes. But he no longer had a normal eye, and it picked up and practically zoomed on the wisp. Moving his head slightly to the side, Helstrom could make out the rest of the circle carrying over to the side of the case. Zooming in with his bionic eye even further, he saw the smoke emitting from a glyph. It looked like it was burning away.

Helstrom straightened as quickly as he could and grabbed the lid to slam it shut, its locks automatically sealing. But the damage was done. Helstrom counted more than ten wisps of energy flying from the case just before it was shut. The combat squad on board were already reading their weapons for combat. Grabbing the case in hand, Helstrom stormed out of the thunderhawk, yelling to clear the path and secure the hanger.

"Ready your weapons! Protect the civilians!" Helstrom looked over and saw the daemons taking form from the smoke, foul looking beings that had no real shape to them. The serfs were already moving themselves to shield the innocents from the denizens of the warp, preparing to sacrifice themselves so that these poor survivors might continue to draw breath. It looked as if for every wisp of energy, five to six daemons appeared. Drawing his pistol from his holster, Helstrom fired off three rounds, each hitting their mark and destroying the monsters. The marines who had been standing ready to board the thunderhawk had already broken formation and spaced themselves evenly, keeping their cohesion tight to ensure there were no weaknesses in their new battle formation. The sergeants had already drawn their chainswords, and were shouting out orders to coordinate their squads' actions against the intruders. The combat squad, who were originally outside the vessel, surrounded Helstrom, forming a protective body shield for the captain and his precious cargo. Squeezing off two more rounds, Helstrom began to move towards the exit. He needed to get the stone to the librarium vaults, which had been prepared for the specific transfer of this vile artifact. He could feel the heat coming from the case, which Helstrom knew was the protective circle burning away. If he couldn't get the stone to the librarium, it could very well cause a full daemonic incursion. Grabbing a quick glance at the case, he noticed that the seal was already half way gone from the outer shell. Growling, he squeezed off his last shot, killing another daemon. He could hear the rapid fire of his marines' bolters, and could not stop the smile that was spreading to his face. Holstering his revolver, he switched the case to his right arm, freeing his left hand. More daemons were appearing now, and Helstrom knew that it was too late to get the case to the vaults without incident. A small contained incursion could be handled, but if he were to leave the hanger, he would be spreading the point of entrance across damn near half the ship.

"Get the civilians out of here! Call for reinforcements! We need to stop them here before we can move on!" Helstrom had reached the door, but instead of going through it as he had originally planned, he slammed the emergency glyph on the wall, causing the main entrances of the hanger to slowly begin to close, and started the alarm. Helstrom then reached over and grabbed the intercom device and punched in his security code to allow the transmission to fill every vox on the ship.

"This is Captain Helstrom of the 7th Company. We have a daemon incursion in Hanger 9. Evacuate all surrounding hangers and stations. Damnation Squad and Purgation Squad report to Hanger 9. Retribution Squad and Aggression Squads report to Hangers 8 and 10. Bishop Marcus report to Hanger 9."

Helstrom gave his orders calmly and quickly, throwing the caster to the side once its use had been filled. Turning around he saw that the civilians had been ushered out, and was pleased to see there were no civilian corpses. But it was a bitter sweet moment, as the number of serfs who had died for them was more than he was comfortable with. The daemons were throwing balls of warpfire at anything that moved, and many were blinking around, causing the shots fired by the marines to miss. Helstrom saw Crassus lying against the thunderhawk holding his side and firing rounds with his pistol. A daemon took notice and threw warpfire at him, enveloping Crassus in a pink flame. Crassus either died silently, or more likely, silenced his comms to save his brothers from hearing his screams. There was a sudden burst of heavy bolter fire from the thunderhawk, its servitor mounted heavy weapons targeting the monsters and unleashing a hail of devastation that was not so easily avoided. Giving a quick assessment of the battle, Helstrom cursed his earlier actions aboard the thunderhawk, knowing himself responsible for this. But maybe he knew it would happen. Maybe he secretly wanted it too, to get a taste of the battle on the planet. Shaking those thoughts from his head, he corrected himself. He wanted to fight yes, but not like this. He had followed protocol, insuring that the artifact had in fact come aboard the ship. This was not his fault. With his revolver empty, Helstrom stretched out his hand, and let loose a torrent of lighting from his fingertips, destroying six more daemons. But it seemed for each one he had killed, three more took their place.

Helstrom scowled as he pieced the problem together. It was the stone, the circle obviously having been fully burned away. The case was practically steaming now, burning his arm through his armor. But he still held on, knowing that if he let go, the case would break open, and the stone would unleash its full fury. He struck out with more lightning, with every bolt destroying a handful of daemons. The lighting fed off the power of his backpack, which gave it a near unlimited supply of energy. But if he kept firing off at this pace, the micro lens of the gauntlet could fracture and break, leaving Helstrom with little in the way of weaponry, aside from his knife on his belt. The hanger was enveloped in warpfire by now, the daemons using it as cover to hide from the bolt rounds of the marines.

Cursing, Helstrom ducked behind one of the few pieces of cover available to him within the hanger, unclipping his helm from his belt. With a flash it was on his head, and a few quick plug ins later, power was being fed into its circuits, feeding it with the necessary power to seal the helm onto the armor and powering up the Battlenet. Mentally accessing the squad count, he saw that the squads who were going planetside had already taken losses. Cursing again, he lifted himself from the cover and let loose another bolt, smiting the daemons that killed his men. After he finished venting his anger, he took note that his reinforcements had arrived, though Marcus wasn't even showing on the Net.

There was a sudden surge of pain that shot up his right arm and down his spine. Looking down, Helstrom saw the case failing, beams of ethereal light shining through the quickly forming cracks. Cursing once more, Helstrom did the one thing he could do; he threw the case as hard as he could against the wall, hoping that the force would shatter the damned thing. The case broke into pieces before it even touched the wall, leaving the stone no cushioning for the impact to come. The stone slammed against the wall, but did not break. It didn't even crack. If anything, the wall suffered more damage, with a small dent scarring the once smooth metal. Helstrom cursed one last time at the stone, damning it to whatever hell it came from, when there was a sudden silence.

"SONS OF DORN, STUDENTS OF LYSANDER, SOLDIERS OF THE IMPERIUM, STAND TALL AND DO NOT FALTER!" The sudden outburst filled the room, and as if in fear or reverence, the flames caused by the daemons fluttered out and died, leaving the daemons no cover. The daemons themselves stopped moving and looked at the source of the voice. Helstrom himself stood in awe at the awesome sight that he beheld. Standing alone, and without arms or armor, stood Marcus. His face was scarred with many old wounds, each one a memory and promise to the ones who caused the wounds. Wearing only his robes, he held a small book in his hand, using it as a ward against the daemons, who were still frozen by whatever power Marcus had over them.

"What are you waiting for brothers? Smite these foul horrors."

Helstrom smiled, and let loose one last torrent of lightning, while every marine in the hanger, emptied their clips into the monsters. This time, no new daemons took their place, and after the last bolter clicked empty, the hanger was empty of intruders. Helstrom took a quick glance at the stone, which lay on the floor where he threw it. No glow surrounded it, no energies leaked from its reservoir of dark power. It laid there, humbled by the power of Marcus's presence. Marcus walked over to Helstrom, placing his hand on the shoulder of the mighty captain, before walking over to the stone. Before Helstrom could issue a warning, Marcus had bent over and plucked the stone from the floor, as if weren't a conduit of the warp and a gateway for daemons to travel threw.

"It only has power if you think it does my dear captain. As long as I do not fear it, or believe in its power, it cannot do anything."

"Are you implying that I fear the stone Marcus? Do you doubt my-"

"I do not doubt your bravery Helstrom, "interrupted Marcus," I am merely informing you of the basis of this stones power. It, like much of chaos, feeds on belief. Not worship like the priests of the Ecclesiarchy believe, but belief. You believed in its power, expected something to go wrong, so something did go wrong. And once it started, it grew on the belief of every marine in the room."

Helstrom removed his helm and shook the sweat from his brow.

"If that is true, then how-"

"That is my secret captain. Do not take it personally, but I will tell you this. Do not underestimate the power of belief. You need not worship chaos to fuel it." With that, Marcus turned away and walked out of the hanger, wrapping the stone in a velvet cloth. Helstrom shook his head as he called for two new squads to go planet side. AS he looked towards the thunderhawk, he was greeted with one last surprise. The five marines who came aboard with the stone stood at the ramp, forming a perfect defense. None of them had fallen. Helstrom considered breaking orders and descending to the planet with them, and then shook his head as he turned and began his way to the bridge of the ship. He had to contact Kreagus and inform him of the stone's arrival.