'What are we, but servants of a greater

power? We cannot hope to forge a path

in this universe without the guidance of

the Emperor. It is too cruel a place

for us to survive alone.'

Chapter 1

Captain Riktovi clutched at his chest as pain swept through him. He grimaced, losing his breath. His hearts fluttered, barely keeping up with his body's demands. For perhaps the thousandth time he cursed the soul of a sorcerer named Armadon. He could still feel the heretic's steel talons clawing at his mind and ripping through his chest. He felt phantom memories of the traitors mind invading his own. He winced, the memories agonizingly clear.

Riktovi moved aside to let a group of civilian hunters and trappers pass, the snow crunching under their feet. He gazed at the dwellings around him. Most of these simple, wooden buildings were actually the living quarters of individual Marines, rather than civilians or Guardsmen; their homes were further down the path. The Arctic Wolves, unlike most Chapters, did not have a strong central fortress made of steel and stone. Instead, they were spread across the village of Novgorod in small, wooden huts much like those of the other inhabitants of Angura. They lived as the civilians lived, and gave whatever luxuries came their way to the people they were protecting rather than keep them for themselves. The populace of Angura loved them for it.

A group of children followed in Riktovi's wake, awestruck, as he made his way through the village. The captain paused and glanced back at them, smiling. On an impulse, he reached into a pouch on his belt and withdrew a small, beautifully carved object. It was a rendering of the Angel Sanguinius, seemingly gazing down at his children with fierce pride and love. His wings were spread behind him, embracing the sky and its limitless expanse. His arms were at his side, hands open as though he were reaching for his sons and daughters below him. It'd taken Riktovi weeks to carve.

He knelt in the snow and beckoned the youngest child forward. She couldn't be older than six, he thought. Smiling, he placed the carving in her hand and whispered, 'Take good care of this, young one. Through it, may the Angel watch over and keep you safe.' The girl stared at the object in awe, seeing only the beauty, the care that had gone into its creation. Riktovi clasped the girl's hands in his own for a moment before standing and continuing on his way. He marveled at the boundless joy children gave their parents, knowing full well he would never feel it. He shook his head and realized he didn't know whether or not he regretted that.

Standing in the entrance hall of the communications building, Riktovi glanced back at the child. Now her mother was at her side, gazing at the gift with a hint of wonder while her daughter clutched it to her chest. At the time of its carving, the captain had no real idea of why he felt the desire to create it. He supposed there might be a reason he didn't see, maybe a message the Angel expected him to find. Pushing the matter from his mind, Riktovi turned and entered a side room. Stepping beside the Tech-Marine working at the vox console, he spoke.

'Has the Inquisitor's message arrived yet?'

Ever since the Fall of Preaore, Inquisitor Patrova Vassilevski and Captain Riktovi had been exchanging messages, updating each other on the known movements of the Word Bearers and the status of the Hunters Chapter. From what Riktovi had gathered, the Hunters were retreating towards Terra, and the Word Bearers had all but disappeared from the sector. The Tech-Marine glanced at his captain. 'We're receiving it now. By the looks of it, something's happened.'

'How long before it's ready?'

The Tech-Marine hesitated before answering. 'About half a standard hour, Captain.'

Riktovi nodded. 'I'll be back in a bit.'


Sergeant Lenikov hesitated. His hearts pounded hard in his chest and he glanced at Chaplain Igarka for reassurance. The old Marine gave him a grim smile and nodded. Drawing strength from his mentor, Lenikov entered the squad quarters. Conversation stopped as the nine Marines inside turned their gazes towards him. They stood frozen, staring at Lenikov in surprise and more than a little awe. They'd only been granted full Battle-Brother honours a few days ago, and here was a legend, stepping forward to meet them.

Lenikov gazed at the Marines, his hands clenching and unclenching repeatedly. His haunted eyes passed over each Arctic Wolf in turn, passing judgment and causing them to step back with the force of his stare. Igarka shook his head and stepped forward.

'Kyr Lenikov, these are Brothers Leonid Durri, Azur Matinov, Tyron Rovsky, Vind Devanovsky, Korrin Reminov, Lavon Mendelev, Iosef Kalinovi, Drrion Valinov, and Lanik Trianovik. These are the members of your new squad. Try to remember what I told you. Do not hold them to unattainable standards. Do not treat them as worthless. Do not treat them as though they are to blame for the deaths of your previous squad mates. They will do their best for you, and that's all you can ask of them.

Igarka stared at Lenikov a moment longer before leaving. The sergeant took a deep breath and turned to his "new squad." In his opinion they looked too young to be wearing Arctic Wolf power armour. It'd been too long since he'd been around new Marines. 'Stop staring,' he snarled, his voice hard and cold. Immediately they focused their attention elsewhere. Stepping past them, he settled onto the only empty bunk in the room, against the back wall and recessed in shadow. Lowering his head to his hands, Lenikov let out a long, quiet sigh. He couldn't see how there'd ever be any kind of replacement for his previous group. It was impossible. Someway, somehow, he'd ensure his solitude. He didn't deserve command. Belatedly he realized they were staring again. 'What?' He snapped.

One of the Marines slowly stepped forward. Taking a deep breath that seemed to go on forever, he spoke and held out a hand. 'Sergeant Lenikov, it is an honour. I am Brother Mendelev. We are blessed to have you with us.'

Lenikov stared at the young Marine for a moment before shutting his eyes. He shoved down his anger and resentment, disgusted with himself. He had no real right to feel any animosity towards the Wolf. When his eyes opened Mendelev's face was a mask of concern. 'Sergeant?'

'You're "blessed?" Is that what you said?'

Mendelev glanced nervously at his brothers. 'Aye.'

'Hmm. You're blessed… Well that's good news to me, because if you weren't then you'd die in your first engagement. You don't want to be around me. You know what happened to my friends, to my Battle-Brothers? Sure they died, that's obvious. But do you know what actually happened?'

'Uh, no.'

Lenikov shook his head. 'I didn't think so. Well, there was a Brother Rokovski. He was shot in the face during an ambush. Then there was Brother Ventrek, chest shattered to pieces during the rescue of a downed Hunters Marine. He died because of the cowardice of a group of Guardsmen, he did. Brother Pavlov, let's see… He fell to the Rage and Thirst in the middle of a vast crowd of civilians. You can imagine what happened then.'

Mendelev blanched and took a step back. 'I'm sorry…'

'What?' Lenikov looked up at him. 'Oh, don't be sorry, I'm not done yet. Brother Loranev was caught in a psyker blast, bones shattered and stripped of flesh. Apothecary Nordvik was flattened like a bug by the same psyker. Brother Rustyik was caught in a wave of daemons, overwhelmed and made into a meal. Only the Emperor knows what happened to the people he was escorting.' Lenikov's face became thoughtful. 'Come to think of it, only the Emperor knows what came of the children Pavlov was escorting…'

Mendelev and his fellow Marines grew even paler at those words. They didn't want to, couldn't follow that train of thought.

'Our very own Captain Riktovi had his heart torn out by the aforementioned warp-damned psyker. An Archangels sergeant named Ekthalon was vaporized, and almost his entire squad was slaughtered, still by the same sorcerer. A Hunters sergeant named Darrier Firen was - was…' Lenikov couldn't finish the sentence. He struggled to regain control as tears came to his eyes and anger paired with unendurable grief, agony, and guilt rose in him. 'He-'

'Sergeant?' Mendelev knelt in front of the Marine. He shook his head. 'I'm so very sorry…'

'Don't you talk to me! Don't you say you're sorry to me! Get away!'

Trianovik stepped forward. 'Come, Mendelev. He wishes to be left alone with his grief, let's accommodate him.'

Mendelev hesitated, glancing at Trianovik before returning his gaze to Lenikov. His resistance wilted under the sergeant's cold glare. He nodded. The squad left the room, leaving the sergeant alone. One of the young Marines decided to remain and sat on a bunk near the door. Lenikov ignored him. It seemed as though these young ones were determined to cause him grief. Once he'd finally regained some measure of control over his emotions, he glanced over to see which of the Marines had stayed. He didn't remember this one's name.

'Sergeant, I am Tyron Rovsky. I am indeed sorry for your loss. However, I will not leave you alone, nor should anyone else. We all know what individuals with torn souls have done, even Marines. You need help, sergeant. You know you do. That's why you allowed Father Igarka to bring you here.'

'Help? There is nobody in this realm who can help me. And that is why I allowed my Father to bring me here. I want to return to battle, so that I may go to the one who can help me.'

'Lenikov, the Emperor will help you in His own time. You cannot rush Him. Do not throw your life away just so that you may see Him sooner. We need you here.'

'You don't even know me, and you profess to care so much whether or not I die. Why is that?'

'In truth, sergeant, I don't. You can die a hundred times for all I care. It would seem as though you certainly want to. You don't care about anyone around you, if you ever did. Therefore, I don't care about you. But we just received battle-brother honours, and we deserve to fight. We deserve to have a commander, not to be knocked back down to the scouts. I refuse to let that happen. I refuse to let you throw us back to that.'

'Oh, you refuse?'

'Yes sergeant, I refuse. Out of all of us, I will be the one to refuse you. Not for myself of course, though it likely would be if that were the only reason I had. No, I refuse to allow you to forsake us for the sakes of the others, in particular for Brother Mendelev. He has struggled for far longer than the rest of us, having already served in the Scout Company for a decade before we were taken in. He has had trouble coping with the implants he received, and has even more trouble adjusting to the life of a Marine. The only things he's got in his favor are his will to go on, and the hope he sustains to one day be worthy of the honour bestowed upon him. He would not survive, if you were to throw him away. Therefore, I will be there for him, to smooth the way and to protect him, as you should.'

Lenikov shrugged. 'So be it.'

'Now, what happened to the Hunters sergeant you mentioned earlier?'

Lenikov glared at him. 'What makes you think I'd tell you that?'

'Finish your monologue. What happened?'

'You don't need to know.'

'Sergeant, get it off your chest. What happened?'

'He died! He was my honour brother, and I let him down. I watched him die! There was nothing I could do…'

'That's better. Who killed him?'

'A piece of traitorous filth named Armadon.'

'And what happened to him?'

'He was destroyed, stabbed by the bravest and strongest Marine I've ever known.'

'Who?'

Lenikov shook his head. 'A man named Ekthalon, of the Archangels.'

'Who are the Archangels?'

'Probably the most elite Chapter in the Imperium. They strike where they are needed, and their foes are dead before they know they are under attack. The Archangels are staunchly loyal to the Emperor. They are the best.'


Riktovi thanked the Tech-Marine and stepped away from the console. Lifting the small paper to the light, he began to read:

IMPERIAL INQUISITOR PATROVA VASSILEVSKI TO ASTARTES CAPTAIN NIKOLAI RIKTOVI. Nikolai, it was good to hear from you again. I heard Sergeant Lenikov has been assigned to a new squad, but refuses to accept it. I am sorry. We both know he has the strength to move on, let us hope he can find it. For his sake. The Hunters Chapter is still on course for Terra. They apparently wish to speak to the High Lords and petition for a crusade into the Maelstrom. Still no word of the Word Bearers. However, there is news of import concerning another Legion. I cannot say anything through a message. Expect me within a few days after this message. Your friend, Patrova. MESSAGE ENDS.

Riktovi swore, not because the Hunters were likely going to get themselves killed in their crusade, although he knew that was bad – but because Vassilevski was on her way. She would use his quarters of course, he would move to one on the squad barracks. He turned and marched into the biting cold. Glancing around him, he realized night had fallen. The moonlight reflected gently off the snow. The captain began drafting plans to prepare for the Inquisitor's arrival. It was tradition to hold a hunt in the honour of visiting officials, using the prey in a banquet later that night.

Riktovi paused. Thinking he may as well warn the Chapter Master, he spun on his heels and marched in the opposite direction. He gazed at the vast field of stars in the night sky. It was amazing what the universe could show you, the beauty it could hold if you took the time to see it. It took his breath away. He stood, just staring at the stars, the moon, the endless snow for a few moments. He took a deep breath, allowing the refreshingly cold Anguran air to fill his lungs. For the briefest of moments, his chest was free from the usual dull ache he'd not quite grown to live with.

Then he remembered what he was doing. The Inquisitor was coming. He followed the well-trodden path to the edge of the village. Turning towards what was perhaps the smallest hut on the face of the planet, he knocked twice. Hearing muttered curses and grumbling within, he knew he'd woken the Chapter Master. He stepped back to avoid being hit by the door as it swung open. Smiling at the old Marine before him, Riktovi bowed to the commander of the Arctic Wolves.

'Even Marines need sleep after four weeks of not doing so. This better be good, Nikolai.'

Riktovi bowed again. 'It is, commander. We have an Inquisitor en route. She'll be arriving in a few days. Her name is Patrova Vassilevski.'

'We'll talk tomorrow,' the commander said, closing the door. Riktovi blocked it with his foot.

'With respect, Brother Voychev, we should not put off the preparations for her arrival.'

Voychev's eyes narrowed. 'You just said she'll be here in a few days. That gives us time.'

Riktovi assumed a mask of feigned seriousness. 'Inquisitors coat their words in lies, commander. Her definition of "a few days" may be unrecognizable to us. She may arrive tomorrow just to throw us off and to make a rather dramatic entrance.'

The Chapter Master let out an exasperated sigh. 'Fine, enter.' He stepped away from the door and let it swing open. He sat on his bunk. Riktovi followed him inside. 'I'm getting old, Nikolai. I shouldn't be awake at this hour.'

Riktovi smirked. He was only a few years Voychev's junior and he knew it. 'I am deeply, truly sorry for keeping you up, brother. Now, what will we hunt this time? Raptor or Wolf?'

The Velocitine Raptors inhabited the mountains of the world. Half as tall as a man, the lizards had four legs ending in massive claws and a mouth full of razor sharp teeth. Their scaled armour was impervious to all but the most powerful attacks. They patrolled their realm in fierce packs, always fighting to defend their nests.

The Anguran Wolf on the other hand, was the most dangerous creature in the sector. The average wolf was as tall as a Marine, sporting six heavily muscled legs. Its jaws could crush a small boulder, and its claws could tear through ceramite. The Anguran Wolves moved faster than Marines could run, and traveled in groups of two at most times – usually a male and female: mates. Their pups would grow to maturity in only seven days. The wolves were the ultimate predators.

Voychev rolled his eyes at the question. 'Wolves, of course.'

Riktovi nodded. 'Yes commander. I would like to lead the honour guard when Patrova lands.'

'Inquisitor Vassilevski.'

'What?'

Voychev shook his head. 'Her name is Inquisitor Vassilevski.'

'Of course, commander, I apologize. I would like to lead the honour guard when Inquisitor Vassilevski lands.'

'Naturally. Back to our other topic, who will lead the hunt?'

'I rather thought Sergeant Lenikov could.'

'Lenikov? Are you sure?'

'He's not going to change anytime soon, and he needs to get it through his head that he does have a new squad now. Once they are in danger, he will feel a natural urge to protect them. It may bring them together.'

Voychev folded his hands, leaning against the wall with his legs stretched across his bunk. 'That is what you hope.'

Riktovi nodded. 'Aye, that is what I hope.'

'So be it. What will the Inquisitor be doing in her stay, and what is the actual purpose of her visit?'

'Well commander, I figured she could be taken to visit the Nikols Filruk Mountains. She might like their rugged beauty. As for her purpose, she claims to have an important message that is too "sensitive" to be sent through the standard channels.'

'Just keep her away from the outpost.'

'She is trustworthy, commander. And the message is for me.'

Voychev gazed deep into Riktovi's eyes. 'She is your friend, captain?'

'Yes.'

'Be careful, Nikolai. I understand you believe she is different, but no Inquisitor is trustworthy. They lie every day of their lives; they cannot help it. It comes with the job of hunting down heretics. They use people. Don't get too close, or you may get hurt more than you can ever imagine.'

Riktovi clenched his jaw. 'Your advice is noted, commander.'

'That is all I ask. You are dismissed.'

Riktovi bowed and left the building. He marched at a furious pace through the snow, ignoring the frigid air. He struggled to marshal his anger, muttering to himself. Voychev had a right to voice his concerns, but Riktovi knew, just knew, he was wrong. Patrova Vassilevski would never use anyone, certainly not him. Their friendship, despite being relatively new, was too strong. Lying, however, was a different story. While he was pretty sure she would not lie to him, he wasn't so certain where anyone else was concerned.

He paused. He supposed he should go ahead and tell Lenikov too. Turning down a side path, he increased his pace until he came to the first of the squad barracks. Noting the insignia on the outer door, he passed it by. A gust of wind slammed into him, nearly knocking him to the ground. He glanced up at the clouds. Storm's coming, he thought. A big one. He shrugged and continued on. Passing three more squad quarters he finally turned and opened a door. Stepping inside, he was not surprised to see the young Marines still up and about. He was surprised to note the absence of Lenikov.

One of the Marines – he thought his name was Rovsky – saw the captain and guessed accurately who he was looking for. 'Sergeant Lenikov is at the chapel, captain. He said he'd be back with the hour.'

Riktovi nodded and sat down on a bunk. He figured he could use this time to get to know his newest Marines. 'Thank you. So, brother, how are you getting along?'


'Death and destruction, pain and grief… is that all I can create?' Lenikov gazed beseechingly at the representation of the Emperor. 'Is that all I cause?'

The darkness of the silent chapel surrounded him and he embraced it. The cold of Angura clasped him, frosting over his armour. His breath hovered in front of him. His shoulder ached where his skin and muscle bonded with the freezing metal of his replacement arm. He was kneeling alone before the Emperor. He lowered his gaze, bowing his head.

'If so, then why did I live?' His voice was a whisper, but still it seemed to echo off the walls. 'My brothers – Loranev, Rustyik, all of them – could do so much more good than I. Why not save them?'

He struggled to control his emotions, to contain his pain and grief. He felt a rising anger and tried to shove it down. He did not succeed. His fury combined whit his grief, and erupted in a roar that echoed throughout the chapel, slamming into him and driving him to his hands and knees, snatching away his breath. 'Why do you never answer?' he whispered.

The fury still burned in him, smothering his other emotions and thoughts. He stood and threw his helm across the room, watching as it broke apart against the wall. He shouted, 'Why do you never answer? Why did I live? For Terra's sake, why?'

His anger became pain as he was met yet again with a cold silence. A moan of anguish escaped him and he sank to his knees. Cradling his head in his hands, Lenikov struggled to remember the Litanies of Purity and Strength. All his life they'd been there if he needed them. He'd always been able to recite every Litany and prayer he'd ever been taught. Now they escaped him. In time, he stood and left the building. Once again, he was truly alone in the universe.