Crucibilius CH1

850 M.41 5 months prior to invasion

The hives of Crucibilius-III were no different than those found on any other hive world. Millennium of detritus had somehow formed into an amalgam of manufactorums and hab-blocks. Workers lived and died at their stations, toiling endlessly on small arms and transports that they would never see used. In the lowest reaches however, sinister cults met in long abandoned halls plotting the downfall of the planet's rulers. Those wishing to escape the drudgery of the hives found the wasteland outside far worse, an irradiated hellscape where only the most viscous survived. Two organizations kept the law within the hives, the Arbites who wielded the law of the Imperium with impunity, and the security-militia who answered to the lords of each hive.

The constant thrum of the plasma generators that kept the hive running could no longer be heard at these stygian depths. Normally this would fall into the jurisdiction of the Enforcers, but a recent string of bombings had called for increased militia patrols. A squad of twenty militiamen was called to handle the strange procession that had been spotted executing those they deemed as heretics. Locals at a variety of underhive settlements had proved useful in finding the hideout of these cultists. The base was covered in scriptures written in dried blood each of which exalted the Emperor and called for the deaths of those unfit for his light. Sargent Kurlin had only ever handled missions that needed him to look tough and so did the rest of the squad. "Alright men, we're going to do this as a normal crowd disruption. Form into lines tell them to disperse and be back to the barracks without a scratch." His second in command Kalanda gave him an agreeing nod, as she always did before operations. The entrance was one long candlelit hall, shadows cast by some flickering light could be seen on the far wall. As the squad entered they were greeted with the smell of burning gas and a low but constant chant, these were nothing new for anyone who had been in a manufactorum but here they seemed to be far more sinister. Moving in a perfectly drilled formation the militia turned on the lights attached to their flak armor and readied their las carbines. Nothing could have prepared them for the scene being played out, before them was a horrifying recreation of the golden throne made from the parts of the procession's victims. Atop the throne of corpses was a figure that seemed to be a mummified man wrapped in finery staring at the ceiling. In the center of the room was a crowd of people wearing skin tight uniforms made from black latex and carried a massive blade in a reverential fashion. Kurlin looked to his squad and saw the fear he felt mirrored in the faces of his men, but he couldn't let this impede him from his duty. Militiamen formed into two rows at the entrance to the hall, massive fires roared opposite of them making the cultists appear as shadows and obscuring their numbers. "By the rule of the good lord Asdeol of Hive Primus, you are to cease all operations and forfeit yourselves to our custody!" Kurlins' words felt like they came from someone else, but he knew he was talking. In a single motion the cultists changed their facing to the line of militiamen, the only part that could be seen through their uniform was the maddened stare that seemed to be trained on everyone at once. "Militia, present arms!" Again, Kurlin felt numb his whole body was tensed but he couldn't move any of it, was he truly that afraid? The withered figure looked down on his intruders and began to laugh, which was then mimicked by his worshippers and even some of the militia.

"Open fire!" No one could tell who had made the order, but the squad followed it nonetheless. Their panicked fire gave the cultists enough opportunity to close the distance and as they did, they brought ruin. For every cultist they brought down another seemed to take their place before long the militia's line was broken and turned into a disorganized melee. Screams filled the air as militiamen were hacked to pieces by their silent opponents. "Fall back and regroup!" Screamed Kurlin as he landed three shots into one of cultists, but as the order rang out so too did a massive explosion. "Sir are you still alive." The voice was from Kalanda and her rough jabs to his face were all he needed to know he was still alive. "Yes" he groaned in response "So I take it we won, or did you drag me to safety?" Kurlin tried to adjust to the darkness that engulfed the room and slowly stood back up with Kalanda's support. "Both sir it seems the cultists intended to all die together and we just interrupted long enough to join them." Kurlin's eyes finally adjusted to see that they stood near a perfectly empty sphere where the groups leader sat. "How many of use survived?" Kalanda normally was unfazed by death so he relied on her to check these things. "Five, if you include us." Pulling a ration packet out of his pocket "Congratulations everyone who survived!" he announced before taking a bite of the stale food-stuff.

Crucibillius CH2

850 M41 4 months 2 weeks

Light emanated from the dagger, strange symbols seemed to flow through the black metal like oil under glass. It called him to carry it openly and to cut down all who deny his authority. The upper-hivers would call him a heretic, he would say that they were nothing but foolish cowards afraid of their own weakness. A knock on the door brought Kurlin back to his senses "One second just cleaning some files up!" he quickly wrapped the blade with rags and placed in the bottom of his desk. "Come in please." Kalanda stepped through the door with an unusual smirk "Lieutenant, we have a visitor who wants to speak with us." As she spoke a team of three burly and well-armed men walked past her and took positions around the room. A fourth man wearing an unassuming red robe of an ecclesiarch followed the bodyguards. He took the seat opposite of Kurlin and placed an ornate amulet on the desk between them. The amulet seemed to be made of silver and had the motif of a skull with a golden halo behind it. "Hello Lieutenant, I am inquisitor Ramaan of the ordo Hereticus, you and your Sargent are going to assist me in my investigation." Kalanda stood beside Kurlin as they were told their new purpose, her expression unchanged a far cry from how he felt. "Two weeks ago, your team aided in the raid of a sanctuary for the cult formerly known as the Bleeding Aquilas. I must know all the details of your encounter, and I would be remiss if I did not remind you that I carry the authority gifted by the High Lords and the Golden Throne."

Kurlin mentioned everything that he saw, how the cultists and some of his men joined in laughter, the destruction of the chamber by a strange blast. Ramaan seemed to anticipate everything he said, as if he had already heard the accounts of their battle. His mind kept going back to the dagger he had taken from the crater, it was evidence and he had withheld it, but why this wasn't like him. "So, a decrepit sorcerer decided to mock the Holy Emperor and killed his flock while he was at it. I will be honest with you; the other survivors are waiting for you in the other room and have told me of what happened. I was hoping for more information with more perspectives, but this is how it works sometimes." He shrugged and stood from his chair. "Though there is one detail your squad mates were unable to answer, what happened inside the crater after the explosion?" Kurlin felt the presence of the dagger under his desk, its proximity only exaggerating his guilt and excitement. "I can answer that." Kalandas' voice brought Kurlin back to the situation. "I was the first to adjust to the blast, as the marksman my position was further back so I wasn't as effected as much as everyone else. The first thing I did was make sure the cultists were dealt with before checking the status of my squad." Her voice was returning to its normal dispassionate tone. "And did you investigate the crater or search any of the cultists." Ramaans' attention was somehow focused on every detail of her retelling while also piercing Kurlins' very soul. "No, the nature of the explosion was unknown to me, so I kept my distance." "And were there any residual noises, echoes, whispers, anything like that?" Kalanda shook her head solemnly. "If that's all then I request that you two gather your things, welcome to the inquisition."

The guard seemed to haunt Kurlin as he cleaned his office. "So, how long have you worked with Ramaan?" His piercing gaze was the only visible part of his face through the ornate skull mask he wore. "Oh, fun, you're the talkative one!" Kurlins' jest was met with an even more intense stare. The three boxes stacked near the door contained Kurlins' entire career, small trophies and pict-captures were all that would show that he was a loyal officer of the militia. Now was the hardest part, how would he sneak the dagger past his watcher? Every step towards his desk felt like he was falling to his death, only to be saved by his next hopeless footfall. Cold sweat ran down his neck as he reached under the desk that was formerly his. Who was this Inquisitor to take his career away from him, what crime had he committed to be turned into a lowly conscript? The familiar grip of the dagger was so comforting, visions of him standing over Ramaan and his entourage in varying states of dismemberment flooded his mind. The guard tried pulling Kurlin away, but he didn't expect the wicked blade to follow. The chest plate provided no protecting and splash of blood shot out signaling Kurlin as a traitor, but he no longer cared. Clutching his chest, the silent guard grabbed his power maul and swung it for Kurlins' head in a killing stroke. Instinctively Kurlin brought the dagger up to parry the blow, but in a dazzling shower of sparks the maul was cut in two. A savage grin took Kurlins' face as he leapt onto the man who had intimidated him this whole time. A manic laughter over took Kurlin as he frantically stabbed the guard, time didn't matter only the kill. "Kurlin!" It was Kalanda trying to stop him, to hinder his career like she always did! The dagger was now the length of his arm and seemed to drink the blood on its surface. A shotgun blast barely missed him as he leapt across the room, his movements were unburdened by thought. Kalanda had two others with her now and he knew they would overwhelm him. His legs seemed to fire him through the door, as he did so the blade claimed another victim, cleanly slicing the head off a militia-men he thought he knew. Shots panged against the walls as Kurlin ran through the maze of tunnels that lead down hive, any who stood in his way were just food for the blade. Blood was all he saw now, he would drown the hive in blood, no, all of Crucibillius.

Crucibillius Ch3

850 M41 4 months 1 week

The hab-block was just like the rest, the walls were caked in dried blood and headless corpses were strewn in horrific symbols. Ramaans' acolytes were careful to not disturb any evidence about Kurlins' whereabouts. In the last week three entire hab-blocks had been butchered without any connection or warning. "Kalanda vox Ramaaan, there's no reason for us to linger." The other acolytes still viewed her with suspicion and did not try to hide their feelings. Ramaan explained that the lingering taint of Chaos had stuck to her and the other survivors from the cult and the acolytes didn't share his kindness. Kalanda hadn't bothered with the names of the other acolytes, she knew they would all die soon.

The blade had fused with his arm, he felt the black metal bonding to his flesh and bone. More victims approached his lair, enforcers, their armor could stop so much but not him. His roar was the last thing they heard as he claimed their skulls, he felt the blade dig in further as it drank their blood. The beast formerly known as Kurlin heard even more victims approach, a larger group and with something similar was among them. He made sure the break the bodies of the enforcers into the shapes he saw before he stalked towards these intruders. Stealthily he crept towards the open space at the center of the hab-block. The dark no longer restricted his vision and all the hidden places were his domain now. Looking down from his vantage point he saw an armed squad of ten wearing black and red, just like the one who stole his glory. One of them was familiar, a scent or some feeling emanated from her and he raged at the thought of competition.

A massive creature leapt down in front of the acolytes and roared a terrifying and pained cry. An acolyte fired a single blast from his shotgun before the creatures bladed arm punched through his chest. Kalanda recognized the black metal that covered the beasts' right side. "It's Kurlin take him down!" Two more were cut down before she could bring up her autogun, Kurlin only got faster since she last saw him. Rounds bounced off his metal side but seemed to dig into what remained slightly human. One acolyte slammed his thunder hammer into Kurlins' leg shattering it, but this didn't stop the horrific blade from decapitating him. Kurlin pounced on another but the acolyte saw his charge and armed all his grenades. "For the Emperor!" he cried as the blast took him and another acolyte as he tried to destroy the beast. No one could see through the smoke, but a shambling figure came through, a mass of black metal consuming a broken corpse. "Keep firing!" Autogun rounds and laser blasts bounced off the remaining pieces of Kurlins' body. He kept walking towards them at a slow limp, but his face was still the image of savagery. Suddenly a fusillade of heavy stubber fire opened from above, the weight of fire forced the dying Kurlin to the ground. A final blast from a las-cannon stripped the remaining flesh from the monster, leaving only a twisted form of jagged black metal.