Cincere Tempestas Chapter 7
The man came at him with a wild cry on his lips and the light of madness in his eyes. He was wearing dun fatigues, a grey helmet and carrying a lasgun with a bayonet on the end. He charged out of a ruined doorway, trying to catch his foe by surprise and ram his bayonet somewhere lethal. It was almost comical that he would even think to try.
Kasarox was well aware of the man before he even sprang out of hiding, the laboured breathing rasping in his transhuman ears so the Coryphaus slowed slightly as he approached and let the man spring his crude trap. He watched the mortal leap out and chuckled as he witnessed the eyes widen in shock but to his credit, the man carried on his wild attack. With his Transhuman perceptions Kasarox assessed the threat, seeing the poor quality of his uniform and the worn heels of his boots. Planetary Defence Force, he reckoned, part-time soldiers, the lowest form of defence. The hated Imperium used such poorly-equipped fops as firebreaks, sending them into the fray to slow attackers down until more professional troops could be mustered. It was almost an insult that they would send such men as this into the fires of war.
In the time it had taken Kasarox to think this the man had taken a single step, swinging his bayonet with all his strength. Kasarox watched the man for an instant, then he moved. His great fist swung out and intercepted the weapon, even unpowered it shattered his arm and sent the rifle flying into the dust. Before the man had time to feel the wound his other hand flew forth and grasped the mortal round the neck, hoisting him off the ground.
Kasarox held the struggling man without any discomfort and hissed, "Foolish but still brave, perhaps you have the mettle to serve the Dark Gods, to embrace the Pantheon."
The man struggled futilely and gasped, "You'll kill me!"
Kasarox shook his head explaining, "Only the weak die, the strong prosper. Join Chaos and forsake the False Emperor, he doesn't care about you, he doesn't even know your name."
The man kicked feebly at the air and whimpered, "The Emperor loves us…"
Kasarox hissed in disgust and with a twitch snapped the man's neck, killing him instantly. The Word Bearer dropped the corpse and left it in his wake. Ignorance was one thing, but willful blindness was unforgivable. The Word Bearers were here to spread enlightenment, to bring the boons of Chaos, but the Imperium instilled such dogmatic adherence to their lies that many could not see the truth, even when i t was right before their eyes.
Kasarox strode on, taking in the battle around him. Abulaz had at last given permission for the Crooked Path to engage and everywhere he looked the forces of Chaos were sweeping aside the pathetic resistance. The Word Bearers were moving methodically through the city, cutting down any resistance and dragging away any survivors for indoctrination to the worship of Chaos. The weak mortals were no match for the glorious servants of the Dark Gods and they crushed any who dared to stand against them. The noise and the bloodshed were a benediction from the Dark Gods, a sound pleasing to their ears and a delight for their eyes.
As he strode Kasarox barked out orders, deploying squads and coordinating the counter-attack with skills born from centuries of practice. He directed Chaos Marines, Havocs and Chosen with the grace of a master conductor, bringing ruin to his enemies and for the worst knots of resistance he brought forth Daemon engines and Maulerfiends. The Word Bearers obeyed his orders instantly, the heat of combat driving out any hesitancy or disdain.
Kasarox revelled in the power at his fingertips, at making his will a reality. At moments such as this he could imagine what it would be like to be blessed by the Gods, to wield the power of the pantheon. All his deficiencies would fall aside and he dared to imagine himself as a luminous being of unholy majesty.
The thought only lasted a heartbeat and then reality returned, his limited, unhallowed flesh caging his unworthy spirit. Kasarox snarled in anger as his failings were demonstrated to him once more and he thirsted to find something to vent his frustrations upon. He saw a gun nest positioned in a corner, the troops within fighting was the desperation of hopeless men. With a snarl of anger he flung himself at the pathetic soldiers, and in moments he had obliterated them.
Kasarox stood in the ruin he had wrought and heard a mocking laugh, "Feel better?"
He half turned and saw Raruma in his most bestial aspect. His hands were elongated claws, dripping fresh blood and his armour was swollen with muscles and sinew. His faceplate was a wide shark-like grin and from his back wings of smoke billowed.
Kasarox felt envy stir in his hearts and he spat, "Mocker, shouldn't you be killing something?"
"No much left to kill," Raruma chortled, "I pulled some civilians out of a basement, they kept me amused almost a whole minute."
Kasarox shook his head and said, "You should have sent them for re-indoctrination."
"Ah, let me have my fun," Raruma sang in his twin voices, "My Neverborn was growing bored, Abulaz kept us penned for too long."
"He is the Dark Apostle," Kasarox spat, "Trust him, he sees all and knows all."
"Ha! If he truly knew all he'd have killed me long ago," Raruma retorted, "He's blind and deaf, he couldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag without you."
Kasarox shook his head and snarled, "Such blasphemy, why haven't I killed you already?"
Raruma's grin was feral as he quipped, "Must be my charming personality."
Kasarox was about to rebuke him but then a call came over the vox and his attention was caught. He heard the fierce cries of his brethren and in the background the unmistakable sound of bolters firing. Before the thought had finished forming Kasarox was already moving at a dead run and the possessed marine followed calling, "Where are you going?"
Kasarox shouted, "There's more trouble ahead, all squads with me!"
Swiftly Kasarox led two score Chaos Marines through the winding streets, passing lecture halls, libraries and playhouses. Yet the Coryphaus wasted not a moment upon these indolent fanes, for he had been yearning to meet the corpse-worshippers in battle, the trice accursed Loyalist Astartes. Now it was here at last, a chance to prove his worth and win divine favour.
Kasarox skidded around a corner, expecting to find battle but was shocked by what he saw. Before the steps of a large courthouse a knot of Word Bearers was fighting a line of shining warriors, but what warriors they were. They wore steel and black colours, with the despised Imperial Aquila displayed proudly on their chests. They were tall and broad, bearing odd weapons and their plate was a model he had never seen before. The sight stopped him in his tracks, for this was unprecedented. He had fought across Daemon worlds and sailed the Eye of Terror but this stunned him, could it be; had the hated Imperium finally produced something… new?
Raruma gasped, "What are they?"
Yet Kasarox yelled, "Doesn't matter, kill them all!"
With a furious roar the Word Bearers charged forth, bringing their weapons up. They were fast and strong but the strange warriors reacted with blinding speed. A knot of them spun about and brought up a line of blazing plasma guns, then let loose hell. Searing balls of brilliant fire hurtled into the charging Word Bearers, catching them dead on. Ceramite melted and flesh broiled as the plasma gunners fired over and over, killing with merciless fury. Kasarox was aware of the limitations of Imperial technology, plasma being particularly unreliable, but these gunners fired repeatedly with confidence and surety.
A half-dozen Chaos Marines fell as the lines closed but then they leapt into the fray with a savage roar. The strange warriors hastily swung the butts of their weapons but in close combat Kasarox was sure his forces held the advantage. He was cruelly disabused of that notion as he swung his fist at a tall warrior only to have him duck back and counter with blinding speed.
Kasarox grunted as the blow rang off the side of his helm but he rode with it and came up from the other side with a back-handed blow that made contact. A flash of power and the familiar reverberation up his arm told him that he had struck true and the warrior collapsed with his chest staved in. Kasarox breathed a little easier as he discovered that these peculiar beings still died like any other.
He looked about and saw the Word Bearers piling into the loyalists with abandon. They hacked with black blades and ritual daggers, crying their fervour unto the Gods. He bellowed orders and directed the fray with consummate skill but the loyalist scum responded with lamentable stubbornness, refusing to yield an inch of ground as they bellowed catechisms of devotion to a dead liar. They fought to the last and not one of them turned his back, but it didn't matter. Kasarox orchestrated their doom and they were slowly swamped by superior numbers.
Caught on two sides the curious warriors were being ground down one by one but they fought on regardless. They hacked and they stabbed with short blades, fighting on even when they been pierced by many blows. Kasarox saw Raruma stab his claws into a reeling loyalist and expected him to fall, but he did no such thing. Instead the warrior went berserk, throwing himself into a frenzied attack that bowled the Possessed Marine over with startling strength. They rolled on the ground, hacking and stabbing as Transhuman blood flowed.
Kasarox was about to intervene but sharp a screech from above announced the arrival of more loyalists. Three of them fell on the blazing trails of jump-packs, their armour swollen and their legs braced by pneumatic pistons. Kasarox had never seen the like before but he recognised that they carried bolt-weapons and hastily threw himself aside. The trio opened up before they even touched down, their boxy weapons spewing bolts at a rate a Heavy bolter would be pressed to match.
The hail of rounds blew apart breastplates, it found gaps in plates and penetrated helms with relentless fury. The jump-troops were disdainful and proud in their killing, smiting down foes with contempt and confidence. A wave of Word Bearers went down under the hail of fire, blown apart by the savage barrage and Kasarox felt rounds pinging off his pauldrons as he yelled, "Summon the Maulerfiend!"
A furious roar erupted in response and the trio of jump-troops spun about. They found themselves confronted by the raging Daemon engine charging straight at them. A bestial roar rang out as the monstrous creature charged; it was a nightmarish fusion of plasteel and cabled muscles, with black claws and fire pouring out of its mouth. The light of the Warp burned in its eyes and within that shell of metal was bound the essence of a Neverborn.
The jump-troop's overconfidence proved their undoing for they were faced with a choice, fight or flee and they made the mistake of trying to fight. They stood their ground, bolt-weapons spewing torrents of rounds but the bolts merely glanced off its thick plates as the Maulerfiend leapt upon them with a feral cry.
Bestial roars erupted as the Daemon engine ripped two jump-troops into shreds. The third finally tried to flee, boosting away on wings of fire but a lashing tendril wrapped around his ankle and dragged him back. The jump-trooper fell into the dust and the Maulerfiend was upon him in a heartbeat, tearing him limb from limb.
Kasarox saw the fight was over and stood to take it in. The abnormal Marines were dead but they had dragged down many Word Bearers with them, too many. He saw Raruma heave a dead body off him and climb to his feet growling, "That was harder than it should have been."
Kasarox knelt to examine a dead body asking, "What are these things? Is the Imperium trying something new?"
"New?" Raruma spat, "The Corpse-worshippers don't know the meaning of the term. They haven't had the brains to attempt anything new in millennia."
"That seems to have changed," Kasarox muttered picking up a plasma rifle, noting the alterations to its cooling systems.
"So what do we do?" Rauma asked.
Kasarox thought about it and said, "Gather the remains and take them back to camp. Abulaz needs to hear about these developments."