Exitus Ultima Chapter 31
Dramacus was dying, Toran could feel it in his bones. Even through the Land Raider's suspension he could feel the ground shaking and the air was charged with an electric tang. His skin crawled under his armour and the throbbing headache at the back of his skull spoke of discharging psychic power. The Machine Spirit made its displeasure known in fritzing Hololithic displays and the slipping of gears, causing Brother-driver Mesquit to curse repeatedly as he wrestled with the controls.
"So fast," Toran breathed.
"Brother-Captain?" Furion asked.
"Minutes ago we were arguing over saving our gene-father's life, now a city dies," Toran explained.
Arvael explained, "The forces of Chaos have long planned his death, doubtless Harbinger has spent an age plotting this day. Now his plans are thrown into disarray. He will be loath to let us go, he brings his full fury upon this city-state."
Persion shook his head, "I can't believe Harbinger is back."
"Believe it," Arvael growled, "The Alpha Legion bargained with the hosts of hell, and unleashed power they cannot control."
Smyth was packed in the back, with the standard, held at an angle. The Primaris' presence in a Land Raider was a violation of the Codex Imperailis but Toran dealt with that by not caring very much. He sounded confused, "Harbinger is that powerful?"
"Counted among the most potent fiends the Chapter has ever faced," Toran growled.
"How did you beat him?"
Furion explained, "With courage and honour, facing the travesty with unshakable resolve and trust in our Brothers. The Daemons of Chaos seek to divide us, to sow mistrust, but united we can defeat anything."
"A large application of overwhelming firepower helped too," Jediah added.
Their debate was shattered as Pride of Lujan rocked hard. Everyone stumbled and Toran heard the lascannons discharging. Something was attacking the Land Raider, something big. The screens showed nothing but Toran barked, "What's out there?!"
"I have no sodding idea!" Mesquit howled, "Someone get on the Pintle bolter!"
Toran's foot was on the step in an instant and he boosted his way through the hatch. The outside air hit hard, vicious winds trying to tear his helm clean off. The storm above lashed Dramacus, black bolts raining down as the Warp pressed hard into the skin of reality. It was so close to breaking through, so close to pulling this city into the Immaterium. Toran knew it could not be long till Dramacus was wiped from the face of Sacellum, but he had more pressing concerns.
Ahead the convoy of Astartes vehicles stretched, driving hard for the city wall but they were opposed. A spindly creature blocked the road, tall as a building, but thin and ungainly. It stood upon eight spidery legs and rose in a sharp cone, non-humanoid in form but its top was crowned by a lidless eyeball that wept blood constantly. Red it was, lit from within by infernal fires and pulsing with malevolent energy. Toran had no idea where it came from, no clue how it came to be, but the threat was self-evident.
A spark of light in that eye, a hush in the storm and then a ray of coruscating energy shot from the iris, striking a Rhino in the colours of the Fire Lords. The vehicle blew up, shattering bits everywhere as the Brothers within died without ever seeing their killer. The response was swift. Lascannons rose, Heavy bolters pivoted upwards and flamestorm cannons wheezed flammable gases. A hundred weapons spoke, blasting the foul thing with all their might and the creature exploded into a cloud of brick dust.
Toran had an instant to celebrate, but then the mist parted and he saw where it came from. Black lightning bolts speared from on high, striking buildings and statues along their route. Brick and stone ran like wax, then moved as if alive. Scores of spindle-creatures ripped from the matter of Dramacus, Daemonic entities taking on bodies of stone and brick.
Toran's hands were on the storm bolter and he swung it to bear on the nearest as he squeezed the trigger. Twin barrels spat trails of mass-reactives, blowing craters into a spindle-creature's side. The recoil was fierce, trying to throw his aim off, but his strength held true and he pointed it upwards, trying to shoot the red eyeball high above. The creature turned to look upon him, power gathering in its eye as it prepared to blast him to pieces. Toran held on, hammering the fleshy orb with the Storm bolter, till one finally pierced its dead centre and the creature toppled onto its side.
"They're coming out the sodding buildings now!" he heard Jaric Phoros yelling over the vox.
"How is this possible?!" Phalros' voice carried.
"The Othersea's tides break their bounds," K'inich Yux called, "The idle dreams of Dark Gods no longer need living minds to host them, they walk this world unimpeded."
"Then what do we do?!" Toran barked as he fired at another.
"Quit yapping and keep shooting!" Agrippa howled.
Along the convoy roof hatches burst open as squads within Rhinos rose to add their firepower. Land Raiders, Crusaders, Redeemers and Excelsiors fired ceaselessly, blasting Daemonic constructs into powder. From the rear the stuttering of las-talons and Galting cannons told the Repulsors were beset too. They blasted spindle-creatures to ash with concentrated volleys, but more kept coming. They were attacked from all sides, surrounded and boxed in while the creatures unleashed beams of fire that reduced tanks to burning hulks.
Toran saw another coming at them and directed his fire upwards. The spindle-creature swayed at the last second, avoiding a killing strike but sending a beam flying away causing no damage. A spider-like leg rose and then slammed down, rocking Pride of Lujan upon its tracks. Toran was nearly thrown from his perch as the machine rocked wildly, losing his grip on the bolter. He fumbled for the handle but by the time he got it under control the spindle-creature was back. That red eye stared right at him, and he knew it would burn him to ash.
"Oh no you don't!" came a mechanical roar. From the side came Novak, the Dreadnought charging through the fray with his sword and shield held high. He moved fast, his Contemptor-frame augmented by Belisarius Cawl himself for speed and inbuilt with arcane relics. Novak's metal feet sent Ferrocrete chips flying as he barrelled into the fray, his sword slashing wide to shear legs off the spindle-creature. Half its legs were taken and the creature could do nothing but topple, crashing impotently into the dust.
"Captain, we can't stay here!" Novak called.
"The way forward is blocked!" Toran barked.
"Not for long!" Novak growled.
The Dreadnought barrelled forward, lashing out at creatures as he did so. A knot of spindle-creatures blocked the way, blasted as they were by lascannons and assault cannons they yet fired into the press, cutting through armour with ease. They saw Novak coming and swivelled to meet him, eyes blazing with power. Searing beams erupted but Novak lifted his shield and took the blasts head-on. Arcane mechanisms went to work, absorbing the energy and channelling it into reserve capacitors on Novak's back. The Dreadnought glowed with power, then he lifted his sword and returned it in equal measure. Jagged bolts of lightning shot from his blade, arcing the distance to earth in the spindle-creatures. Eyeballs boiled, stone crumbled and legs cooked off as a score of Daemonic constructs were laid low, opening the way forward.
"The way is clear!" Phalros cried. Engines roared as the vehicles smashed through the gap, battering aside those spindle-creatures not killed already. Toran clung on as Pride of Lujan rose over a dead construct, tracks grinding its form to powder. They crashed back to the ground and tore away, followed by scores of Astartes' machines. Repulsors rose smoothly over the obstacles, turrets rotating to fire backwards as they fled. Lightning continued to mar their passage, trying to trap them but too few to block the route. Anything that stood against them was blasted to rubble before it could challenge them.
"We have to keep moving!" Toran called.
"You love stating the obvious," Agrippa snarled.
"Where do we head?" Jaric called.
Cato Sicarius called from the midst of the convoy, "Head to the landing fields, we must reach orbit."
"Evensong steals upon us faster than you think," K'inich stated grimly.
Toran saw a brilliant explosion light the clouds from below, searing red and hurtful yellow. Thunder rolled and the vox screamed with agony, as a conflagration lit the horizon beyond Dramacus' walls. The landing fields, his mental map told him, the mustering grounds were on fire. Dropships, landers and gunships, all destroyed, leaving no egress by that route.
"We're not flying out of here," Jaric growled.
"Wheel left at the next junction, the nearest gate is not far," Phalros ordered, "We can drive to the nearest city-state and evacuate from there."
"Who put you in charge?!" Agrippa barked.
"Do you want to argue or do you want to get the Primarch to safety?!" Phalros retorted, "Vaticer city-state is three hundred and fifty kilometres away, we need to get there!"
The convoy turned at the junction and tore on, racing to get out of the doomed city. Toran knew time was running out but the salt plains beyond offer no cover. He could only trust distance from the epicentre would diminish the Warp' effects, if not they would be fighting every inch of the way. Either way their determination was unbroken. The Space Marines would get the Regent to safety, even if they had to fight every kind of Daemon imaginable. But as it turned out they faced a different challenge.
A high wall rose across their path, crowned by a high gate of Adamantium. The gate was sealed tight, as it should be, but that wasn't the problem. A crowd of thousands pressed against that barrier, pleading to be let out. Men and women, young and old, pilgrims and criminals. All had come in a desperate attempt to flee, not caring where, so long as it was away. None of them was possessed, yet, but they blocked the path to the gate.
"Civilians in our path!" Toran called.
"Prepare to reroute!" Phalros cried.
"No time!" Jaric howled, "This city is dying!"
"We cannot get past these innocents," Toran protested.
"They're meat for the Daemons," Jaric barked.
"Not yet, we are duty-bound to save them," Toran argued.
"Frakking hell, let us handle this!" Agrippa snarled. At the fore yellow-clad Space Marines rose from Rhino hatches, bolters held ready. Toran's jaw dropped but before he could speak they opened fire. Bolters thundered as flamers let rip, dousing the crowd in promethium. Land Raiders in Marine Malevolent colours spat rounds from hurricane bolters, as assault cannons mowed down hundreds. Mortals came apart, scythed by lashing torrents of firepower. Bodies exploded and a sea of blood stained the ground, flesh and bone proving no match for the hate of Agrippa.
"What are you doing?!" Toran yelled into the vox.
"Clearing a path," Agrippa growled.
"You are shooting the Emperor's citizens," Toran protested, "Stop or I will fire upon you!"
But Jaric growled, "Wake up you fool! There are no innocents in Dramacus, only hosts for Daemons. These people are damned, there is no salvation to be found."
Phalros concurred, "Hold Captain, this sacrifice is necessary."
"You agree?!" Toran gasped.
"This city-state is dying, as are its people. We cannot save them, not a single one. The people are dead, they just don't know it. We must concentrate on our duty, getting the Regent out, nothing else matters. Not them, not us."
It was a moot point anyway. The shooting had sent the crowds into a panic and they fled, running as fast as their legs could carry them. The mass of people parted, disappearing into side streets and alleyways. With tears in their eyes they ran, judged by the Emperor's Angels as expendable. Toran could only watch as the people he had sworn to protect were cast aside, left to rot by those who should have stood in their defence.
"Hate to break it to you, but those Daemon-creatures are coming after us!" Novak called.
"Drive on!" Phalros ordered, "Open the gates and make for the plain beyond!"
The great doors parted as a vox-command compelled the Machine Spirits to obey. As soon as the gap was wide enough the first vehicle was through, roaring onto the flat plains beyond. The sky was dark overhead and the road long, but the horizon beckoned, promising the safety of distance. Toran's machine was twelfth through the doors, tracks blurring as Pride of Lujan clawed for speed. He cast a bitter eye at the yellow machine Agrippa rode in, but could do no more than that. They had hundreds of kilometres to cover, and he was sure the danger was anything but past.
Behind Dramacus vanished as the storm bore down, obscuring the holy city-state from view. Millions of people, buildings honoured and venerated for millennia, shrines hallowed or forgotten, all were lost as the hungering Empyrean claimed the land. Dramacus ceased to be, torn from the surface of Sacellum and made a playground for Daemons. Any soul not yet possessed or dead was condemned to an eternity of suffering, their souls forfeit to the whims of cruel gods. Less than a thousand Space Marine made it out, the only survivors of this calamity.
Toran knew it could not have been any other way but in his hearts he swore the Archenemy would pay for this. Vengeance burned his soul and no matter the cost he would repay the forces of Chaos for their travesties. This conflict was far from over and he would have his vengeance, this he swore.