Extremus Fors Chapter 34

The day had come at last, and Rebre burned to see its culmination. After all her travails the end was in sight, a blessed relief and the prospect of freedom. She ached for it, every fibre of her being craving the stars once more. That her eagerness was undercut by fear she did not dwell upon, knowing that Jubila was on her tail was a thought to loosen the bowels of the bravest. So she put it from her mind and focused on her goal: escaping once and for all.

A swift forced march had led the Technobarbarians deeper under the ice of Lujan Minoris than they had ever gone before, into realms where the feeble light of the sun could no longer penetrate the icy surface. Things slithered down here that had never evolved eyes, slug-like creatures that chewed passages in the ice a tank could drive down. The Technobarbarian clans had made swift progress, stirred into a frenzy by Rebre's will, little knowing they would never see the stars. Their hearts and minds were hers now, and she drove them like cattle to the slaughterhouse.

Rebre left the charnel house that was her tent, bodies piled high within. She had taken one last chance to replenish her power, drawing excess energy into her veins for the fight to come. She was sure the way would be opposed and wanted to be able to do more than whisper in ears. The tent and the luxuries within she abandoned, along with her worshippers. A shame, she had grown accustomed to the adulation of the masses, but then these primitives were unworthy followers, she would find better ones among the stars.

Rebre lifted her head proudly as she walked through the crowd. The deep tunnel they were gathered in was pitch black, save for the milky aura of lumen orbs held on sticks. Technobarbarians packed the passage end to end, and for many kilometres back, tens of thousands of them, awaiting her word. From all the major clans they had come, setting aside rivalries in her name and she was pleased how they parted before her. She passed by without comment, enjoying the awed whispers that echoed in her wake.

At the very tip of the throng she found Lugdac. The ruler of the people was stood awaiting her, Daemonsword fused to his hand. He was barely recognisable, his flesh glowing with potency and his scalp cut deep by many self-inflicted wounds. He was deep in the embrace of Slaanesh and yet barely beginning his transformation, in time he would be wonderous. At his side the Lords of Sinew and Steel awaited, their eyes filled with the fervour of true devotees. Last of all Goresh and Millic, the twin enforcers ready to do her will.

"My queen," Lugdac greeted.

"My King," she replied, "The time has come at last."

"I can wait no longer," Lugdac uttered, "The heavens are mine to claim."

"Do not wait, never stop, never cease craving what is yours. Take what you want and know none can oppose you."

Lugdac turned on his heel and raised the Daemonsword high as he cried, "Today the people shall receive their rightful due! Today the heavens shall open and we shall see the sun! The stars are beyond this tunnel, let none stand in your way!"

Those within earshot cheered and those beyond cheered anyway. Lugdac led them forward, at slow clip at first but swiftly increasing to a brisk jog. The crowd flowed in his wake, the young and old, men and women, hulking augmented warriors and feeble crones, all determined to see this out to the end. Rebre ran with them, for once not hanging back. She had come too far and worked too hard to let another snatch away her triumph. For once she was going to be at the front.

The tunnel twisted like snake, its curves and undulations coming and going unremarked. It squeezed slightly and then suddenly burst open, revealing a cave bigger and grander than she had ever seen. Wide it was, wider than the light of the lumen orbs could reveal, dotted by numerous tunnels that disappeared into the dark. Distant walls faded into shadow but those nearer were not mere ice. Thick Plasteel girders rose to a domed roof, from which condensed icicles hung like an inverted forest. This cavern had never seen the light of the sun, never been open to the surface air, it had been purpose built far below the surface, intended to be hidden where none would think to look.

At the heart of the cavern rose a Forgefane, a tiered ziggurat of black stone, flanked by four lesser pyramids. Upon their roofs stood tangled weavings of metal, wire and circuit, they topped the pyramids like iron crowns, pulsing with eldritch light as unknowable energies played within. Each of the pyramids bore countless engravings of the Cult Technis, mathematical formulae and devotions to the Omnissiah. These were similar to those she had seen before, except never so perfect and fresh. They could have been carved yesterday, so exacting were they, a vision of Technological might and a temple to the dark arts of logic and science. Lost bastion of the Mad Magos, the final refuge of Lazar and his most precious secrets.

Rebre yearned to run to the Forgefane and rip open every last mystery within, but the way was opposed. Between the Technobarbarians and the Forgefane stood scores of flaming figures, hulking giants with haloes of fire hanging over their heads. They turned empty eye sockets towards the intruders and a broiling hiss echoed loud as they issued their challenge, black weapons rising in skeletal fingers. The greatest fear of the Technobarbarians made manifest, in numbers unseen, yet Rebre was unconcerned. Her followers outnumbered the Undying several thousand to one, if needs be she could just bury them in bodies and walk over the corpses of her followers.

Lugdac let out a wild yell and broke into a charge. His kinsmen were hot on his heels, pouring into the cavern by the dozen. Rebre ran with them, keeping near to the front, but not too close. It wouldn't do to be cut down at the last moment before her triumph. The crowd spread out as they advanced, meeting the Undying as a great wave of flesh.

Banging retorts hammered her ears as rains of stubbers inundated the Undying, falling upon them as rain. The monstrous by-blows shrugged off bullets without concern but so dense was the barrage they could not advance to meet the charge. The distance shrank and Technobarbarians by the hundred flung themselves at the Undying, without the slightest hint of fear, so enraptured were they by the destiny Rebre had woven.

Knives lashed withered Ceramite, guns fired at point blank range and pneumatic limbs punched iron fists into guts. Hundreds of blows were being struck, thousands, and yet the Undying did not fall. Ceramite rebuffed the strongest of blows, flaming exhausts burned any who came too near and cadaverous legs were unbowed. The clans smashed into the Undying like an ocean wave breaching a storm barrier, to be broken by unmovable rock. Then the Undying struck back.

Heavy iron swords swung in lazy loops, cleaving through dozens of living bodies at once. Flaming maceheads stoved in chests and shattered necks with ponderous inevitability. Whips of flame harvested lives like scythe does wheat and blasts of scintillating phase-energy ploughed deep furrows into the thronging foe. The slaughter was merciless and entirely one-sided, but the clans no longer cared. They piled in, throwing their lives away to grapple with the foe.

Rebre stopped in her tracks as the fight grew bloodier. The noise was incredible, pounding on her ears so hard it grew painful. Heaving flesh was all she could see, painted red by spilled vitae. The smell of gunpowder and blood was overwhelming, nearly choking her throat closed so thick was it and the ground under boots grew treacherous with piled entrails pouring out of opened guts. It was the most intense experience of her life, more extreme than she ever imagined and more addictive than the strongest narcotic. No wonder so many Chaos devotees craved battle.

In the hack and slash of combat she saw Lugdac advancing. He alone was having any success against the Undying. His movements were swift and sure, easily evading lazy blows and in return his strikes were lethal. He drove the Daemonsword into a spine, ramming the point deep to allow the Neverborn within to drain the monster dry. Another tried to decapitate him with a black axe but he ducked the strike without even seeing it, then slammed his sword into a Ceramite gut. Two Undying down already, a good start but he was only one man and the Undying had noticed him.

Flaming heads turned to track his progress and skeletal hands brought weapons to bear. They turned their attention from the hacking Technobarbarians and closed on Lugdac, moving through the melee like boats breaking oceanic ice, indifferent to the attackers biting at their heels. Rebre saw that even Lugdac couldn't take so many all on his own and decided the time had come to act.

She saw Goresh leap to intercept an Undying with flaming cudgels for hands. A great hammer he swung into its chest, making it ring like a bell, but otherwise having no effect. In return a swipe sent the enforcer flying, skin broiling off his chest where flames had seared his flesh. He hit the ground and rolled, inured to the pain and ready to fight but Rebre was faster.

She drew upon the stolen vitality in her veins and reached out, muttering arcane incantations under her breath. She did not target the Undying, forged of strange techno-sorcery it was doubtful her magics could make a dent, but the bodies of the fallen was another matter. At her urgings dead hearts beat once more, pushing sluggish blood through cooling veins. Muscles twitched and tendons flexed, causing the dead to rise.

Pale hands grabbed at the shins of the Undying, dragging at its steps. The creature didn't seem to notice, trying to plough on but scores of dead bodies clawed at its flanks, weighing it down. More she directed, commanding them to hobble towards her target, a wave of dead flesh closing from all sides. Higher they rose, crawling over each other to reach its hips, then its chest and pauldrons. The Undying wouldn't stop trying to march on, heaving aside corpses, but they just kept coming. A mound of corpse-flesh had reached its neck now, scalding black where fires cooked them but still piling on. The Undying hissed in denial as its vision was blocked, ruptured torsos falling upon its head until it disappeared under a mound of cadavers, trapped and unable to move.

Elsewhere Millic fought an Undying with a large gun in hand. She darted to and fro, knives skidding off Ceramite as she stabbed and hacked. She was making scant impression but the slow Undying couldn't touch her either. The gun discharged in blazing flashes, boring tunnels through living bodies ten deep. Millic skipped around the blast, and hacked at flank, uncaring that she wasn't making a dent. The Undying seemed to tire of her antics and swung an elbow back, knocking her ten metres away, then bringing its gun to bear. Rebre however was already attacking.

By her will a dead warrior stood up, his back heavy with the canisters of a cryo-cannon. She compelled the corpse to flop into the way, falling over the barrel of the gun just as it fired. A beam of energy bored through the cadaver with ease, but when it touched the volatile chemical mix the reaction was stupendous. A blast of freezing air engulfed the pair, colder than the depths of space and utterly irresistible. Molecules ceased to dance, so cold was it, flash-freezing around the Undying and smothering its flames. A moment passed and then the air hardened, becoming a pillar of ice with the Undying trapped within like a fly in amber.

Rebre exulted in her triumph, she was beating them, her magics were tipping the tide. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lugdac had taken down another Undying, his blade proving their bane. One by one Undying were falling, each taking hundreds of Technobarbarians with them but not enough to make a difference. The primitives were doing enough to slow them down, allowing Rebre and Lugdac to finish them off. Her heart thundered in joy as she saw the battle was turning their way: they were winning.

It was in her moment of triumph that it all fell apart. A fresh cry rang over the battle, not warrior yell nor broiling hiss, but lower and more primal, an animal noise of feral rage coming from the rear. Rebre spun on her heel and saw a new army entering the fray. From a remote tunnel poured a force unlike any other, twisted mutants, walking on hooves and claws. They were hirsute and feral, their hands clutching the crudest of weapons. Their faces were of goats and sheep and dogs, offensive mockeries of the human form. Beastmen, racing to join the fight.

They fell upon the Technobarbarian's flank and a great slaughter arose. Claws and teeth set against knife and gun, pitting bestial rage against primitive bravery. Steel versus flesh, augmentation versus mutation, and none could tell which was superior. Almost Rebre broke off to deal with these interlopers but then she saw him. Taller than any other, sleeker and faster, moving through the melee with a graceful step. His sword a harrowing storm of steel, leaving foes eviscerated in his wake and not one foe managed to parry a single stroke. Jubila, peerless blade of the Third Legion had caught up with her.

"Who is that?!" Lugdac bellowed.

"A most terrible enemy," Rebre cried, "Quickly into the Forgefane!"

"I run from no man!"

"Drive on you fool, drive into the templum! We must get inside before he reaches us or all is lost!"