Brother-Librarian Shran and his small retinue moved cautiously down the silent pyramid's entrance hall. The only sound after the door closed was that of their metallic breathing through the frowning grilles on their helmets. The clink of gun metal and the tiny, pneumatic hisses of their armor whispered down the corridor before them, as did the slight crackle of the flamer wielded by a Marine called Orphes. As they advanced down the dark tunnel, fleeting shadows appeared in the corner of each man's eye before racing up into the darkness near the corridor's roof. The golden hieroglyphs on the walls seemed to have a life all their own, writhing as they were illuminated by the Marines' armor lamps.

Upon reaching the end of the long first passage, the Marines found themselves in a large, circular room where passages branched off to many different locations within the pyramid. Shran halted them in the chamber's center.

"Pair up," he said, "each pair takes a corridor. Report what you find. Keep the vox-net open."

So saying, he motioned for a marine called Andas to join him. Slung over Andas' shoulder and carried at his hip was a heavy bolter, the Emperor's holy weapon against all threats. It had been forged by a tech-priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus, the technical masters of Mankind, at one of their great bastions on windswept Mars. It had gone through many sacred rites to ensure its deadliness before it was given to the Blood Angels and eventually passed down to Andas. He now carried it with the ultimate care and pride.

As the Marine pairs trooped off in different directions, Andas and Shran took the passage directly in front of them. As they entered this new, shorter corridor, a palpable feeling of dread and despair came over Shran and muted his sixth sense.

"Anyone else feel that?" he voxed.

"Yes, Brother-Librarian," the reply was from the pair of Marines who had taken the passage alongside theirs.

They moved on, trying to ignore the low whispers that nagged at the edges of their minds as they advanced down the corridor. Shran's finger tightened on the trigger of his bolt pistol more than once, but he told himself to keep faith in Him on Earth and never trust anything that xenos-tech spawned.

The passage widened and soon they found themselves in a large, square chamber, along with the Marine pair that had responded to Shran's call earlier. He was pleased to see that Brother Orphes, still holding the flamer, made up one half of the pair.

Despite the chamber's apparent neglect, eerie green fires blazed high in brass sconces all along the walls. These flames illuminated a huge stone chest that sat on a slightly raised dais in the chamber's center. The horrible, muting presence seemed to emanate from this vault.

"Assume defensive positions around the walls," ordered Shran, opening his psychic senses as best he could, "I will see what calls us here."

He advanced toward the chest. Each step he took was a fight through turbulent psychic seas, waves of dulling force hitting him in a terrible melody as he moved forward.

Finally, he reached the massive vault. Still combating the pulsing energies, he removed a metal gauntlet and laid his bare hand on the cold lid.

I AM SHALA. BEHOLD THE BURIAL MOUNT OF DEATH'S PRIEST.

Shran drew back, gasping, and toppled to the floor. He was about to dart back up but stopped short as a tiny metallic skittering reached his ears. Readying his bolt pistol as he regained his footing, he crept back to where the three Marines were arranged.

"Andas," whispered Shran into the green-tinged gloom, "ready the bolter. All except Brother Orphes, fire for the ceiling on my mark."

There was a low humming that bounced off the chamber walls as Andas warmed up the heavy bolter's firing mechanisms, "Ready."

"Fire on my mark," said Shran as the tiny skittering he had heard earlier increased in volume near the room's ceiling.

"Three."

The noise converged on a spot above the Marines.

"Two."

A dull, almost imperceptible white noise sounded amid the unseen swarm.

"One."

The white noise increased in volume.

Shran prayed as he tightened his finger on the bolt pistol's trigger.

"Mark!"

All hell broke loose.

The clatter of bolter fire jumped off the walls, followed suit by the roar of Andas' weapon. The rounds ripped into the ceiling stone, knocking out bits of a swarm of slithering, beetle-like constructs. The holes that were made were soon filled in by more of the skittering xenos. As the Marines fired, the swarm consolidated itself and arced down towards them. Shran acted quickly.

"Orphes! Now!"

The room was suddenly lit up as Orphes' flamer blasted to life. The swarm met the jet of fire and battled with it, seemingly stymied. Then, as the pressure of millions became too hard to fight against, the swarm began gaining ground.

Advancing hard against the flame, the swarm did nothing else until it was about ten feet above the Marines. Then, slowly, dreadfully, it flowed around the fire and onto the Space Marines.

Shran's armor sensors, fed directly into his brain, went off the scale. The beetle-things worked their way into the chinks in the Marines' armor, and the straining of ceramite could be heard plainly above the din. Feeling the things begin to bore into his skin, Shran focused as best he could and tapped into his psychic sense.

Despite the many things trying to stop it, the world went silent for a moment. The Marines' fire beat a strobing staccato against the walls. The swarm poured silently and inexorably downward. Death laughed.

And, amid it all, the Blood Angels Librarian pushed.

Sound flowed suddenly back in, deafening the Marines as a physical shockwave radiated outward from their Psyker Battle-Brother. The shockwave caught every one of the beetle constructs, sweeping them up and smashing them with incredible force into the walls. Outside, a massive shockwave ripped through the ground, moving outwards from the pyramid. The insectoid assailants fell silent.

Shran had fallen to his knees, blood pouring from his eyes and nose, only to be instantly clotted by his supercharged system. He panted, and the Marines with him thanked their Emperor.

"Must…tell…Dante…" was all that Shran could get out before he collapsed to the floor. The Marines heaved him onto their shoulders, bearing him away to face the Son of Sanguinius.

SHALA. I EXPECTED BETTER OF YOU.

THAT WAS BUT A TEST, LORD. THE ONLY REAL THREAT AMONG THEM IS THE ONE THAT CONFRONTED ME.

DO NOT BE SO SURE, SHALA. READY YOUR WARRIORS FOR BATTLE.

THE PRIEST OF DEATH SERVES, O LORD.