The hands holding Adelana let go, allowing her to throw herself to the ground a split second before the darkness was dashed away by the Resurrected las fire.

Before Adelana could think the three agents and Serghar stood in front of her and their power swords were blurs as they smashed and deflected the rain of fire.

"I must admit you are clever, little girl," said Serghar through clenched teeth. "Smarter than my disappointing son, at least. Get out of here...We'll, we'll cover your escape. Just make sure the little frig gets to the tower."

Adelana smiled and picked up Attelus, grunting with the effort. Slipping his arm across her shoulders. She looked around and found Attelus' powersword lying amongst the sand only about a metre from the east side wall. Lucky. Adelana moved as quickly as she could, she went to retrieve it. Keeping low as the fire blazed by and around her.

She scooped up his sword, activated it then plunged it deep into the wall, feeling it penetrate through to the next building. Adelana cut a quick, human sized hole and with a roar kicked it.

Pain shuddered up her leg and she cried out, bouncing away.

"Emperor damn it!" she yelled, stumbling to keep from falling. "Why do you make this look so easy?"

Attelus didn't answer, of course he just swayed on her. His blood had begun to soak her cameleoline cloak and bodyglove.

She bit her lip and fought for her limbs to move again, she recognised it as concern and it threatened to overtake her. Attelus would hate that, he would see it as pity. But it wasn't. She couldn't even begin to pity him.

With a snarl she forced it away and kicked the wall, again. Hoping beyond hope there weren't any more Resurrected beyond.

With a groan it fell in and smashed against the ground kicking up red sand.

To her relief the small corridor beyond was empty and she glanced back. Serghar and his three agents were locked in close combat. Or locked in slaughter, to be more accurate. She'd watched them massacre their way through the Elbyrans hours before. But this was even more impressive. The Resurrected all seemed to be sliced to bits the moment they charged in. Even though Adelana's eyes couldn't even follow their attacks, she saw the ferocity and desperation fuelling them. She couldn't help wonder how long their superhuman constitutions were going to last.

Adelana started onward, Attelus' powersword held ready, as much as she wanted to retrieve her prized bolter and las pistol, there wasn't enough time.

She had to get to the roof.

She couldn't help let another smile grow across her lips as she stepped into the unknown.

Adelana had no idea whether to go left or right and she clenched her teeth.

In the back of her mind the words 'the right way, was the right way,' whittled in and they made her turn rightward, although, she couldn't recall who'd said it.

Sudden tears overtook her gaze as she remembered, it was her father.

Adelana swore he was the funniest and strangest father in the galaxy. He'd embarrassed her countless times over the years with his eccentricity and lame jokes. She'd inherited his red and gold hair and light green eyes. He'd died along with everyone else on Omnartus and she missed him beyond human comprehension. He'd always been there for her even when he was weighed down with the stress of running his dying business-

She rubbed away the tears, and thought, he maybe dead, but at least he wasn't Serghar Kaltos.

Adelana gave Attelus a glance, he was still unconscious, his handsome face hidden behind an oily brown fringe which clung to his pale skin like the still drying glue her father used to paste separate layers of fabric together.

It seemed whenever anyone amongst those who knew of the destruction began to complain about something they think at least they don't have it as bad as Attelus.

It was a good way to put things into perspective, to keep from being overtaken by grief, to wallow too much in, in Adelana's opinion anyway, in justified self pity.

"Emperor, damn it, Attelus," she growled in a bid to try negate the sound of fighting behind them. "Here I am saving your butt yet again. I thought you'd learned your lesson about rushing in again? Before it was your sentiment, wasn't. But now it's your damned blood lust, wasn't it?"

Attelus' sudden gurgle, caused Adelana to flinch and stop. Fear running through her like a near freezing stream.

"Attelus?"

The gurgling kept going as blood gushed down his chin. It sounded like...like.

Anger overtook her fear and she fought the urge to throw him on the ground, when she saw his blood coated smile.

"What's so damned funny?" she said.

"Y-you just...know me too...well," he said, his hissing voice below a whisper.

Her anger flickered away as quickly as it came and she started on again. "Sometimes I wished you'd just die."

"Well," he said. "That'd...be a pointless wish, Adelana. As it...wouldn't last long, apparently."

"You always have a damned comeback, don't you? Anyway isn't it me who's to learn stuff?"

"D-don't you...Don't you remember what...Raloth s-said? We're...learning, all-all of us...all the time. Except for...me, obviously."

Then he straightened forcing Adelana to stop at the edge of the corner.

"What is it, Attelus?" she said, although the tightening through her stomach already told her.

"Just as I'd...I'd just learned we aren't alone in here," he said.

He slumped forwards, causing Adelana to almost lose her balance.

"I'm...sorry," he breathed, before losing consciousness again.

Adelana wanted to let out a groan, but the light crunching foot steps around the corner caused it to die in her throat.

Something wasn't right, something she couldn't quite comprehend.

With powersword at the ready, she peered around the corner.


Tathe reloaded his las pistol for what seemed the millionth time, but what he knew to be his twelfth from the three remaining clips in his belt pouch and brought it to bear with a swish of his storm coat. He didn't need to aim as he opened up on the baying horde as they fought to fight at the front.

Meanwhile enemy fire battered against Karmen Kon's kine shield and the Elbyran shots slaughtered. So far, casualties had been minimal but even so more and more familiar faces and coloured armour had joined. Most were men Tathe knew fought in the rear or on the north and south flanks. That was of little surprise.

Rage welled with in him at the sight of everyone. They were men and women who'd fought with him for years. Who'd given their lives so they could take another step forwards. It sickened Tathe they were forced to fight after death. They deserved the peaceful release of oblivion after their honourable and admirable service to the Golden Throne.

He never hesitated in killing his former comrades, as every time they died, it allowed the Elbyrans one more step to hopefully, maybe end their purgatory, their enslavement.

Tathe would've shook his head, but kept his attention focused forward. He had to have faith, faith that his father was the key to this, that defeating him would permanently stop the Resurrected from coming back again and again.

He was a cynic, he wasn't faithful any more. But he wasn't really being 'faithful' any more in his decades of fighting the Ruinous Powers he'd seen time and again that something, somewhere was the key to bringing them out of the warp and destroying it was the key in sending them back.

The tower was the key, his father was the key.

All while he was thinking this, Tathe's las pistol seemed to have of its own sentience as it shot and shot.

It was when Tathe's mind came back from introspection into reality, when the cultist he'd drawn a bead on, exploded.

It only took a second for the cultist's body to bulge and warp, then coat the Resurrected around it in blood and gore.

What stood in the cultist's place, sent painful icicles to spear into Tathe's heart. It made him halt as it did every guardsman and throne agent.

The daemon stood head and shoulders taller than any other being about, despite being hunched forward like the worst sort of hunchback. Its tongue snapped and writhed out its forever opened maw and teeth as long as Tathe's index finger coated the top of its mouth. Its scaly skin was such a bright, blood red it made Tathe's eyes to water. Its eyes gazed gold, a gold so pure that Tathe swore it was the same gold that might have lived at the heart of stars. It was long limbed and surprisingly slender in comparison to its height and broadness of shoulders, but it's arms were still thicker than Tathe's torso. Its skull was elongated to such a height it reminded Tathe of the helms worn by the eldar and to huge, course horns weaved from the sides of it's head. It held a sword as long as it was tall, a huge blade meant for two hands, even for a Space Marine, but it held it with one hand as easily as Tathe would hold his las pistol. Its legs caved backwards at the knees and ended in sharp. cloven hooves.

More of the cultists in the crowd followed the first in exploding and transforming into daemons.

Into Bloodletters.

Despite this Tathe was still smiling and he activated his vox bead.

"Flame troopers, take point!" he said slashing his sword down. He'd been expecting this and almost immaculately and immediately the flames were at the front.

The daemons began to charge and were met with a wall of flame which bathed them in cleansing fire.

"All units advance," said Tathe. "Cover the flamers with all we have."

It was then Tathe noticed the Guncutter fly over head, from the east and he was forced to stop the down rush of air from blowing off his cap. It flew down the road and ast the back of the Elbyran advance.

"What the hell's going on with that?" demanded Tathe.