Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 369

"Why isn't it done already?" Shrios snapped.

"Their Chapter-barque is surrounded," Larus retorted, "You try sneaking past Ferrac's guards!"

"I don't care how you do it, just get me that relic," Shrios hissed.

"Stop thinking you give the orders around here," Larus growled.

Kazao listened to their argument with disinterest, letting the pair snipe at each other. The conspirators had been going in circles for days, jabbing one another constantly. Long transits through the Ghostwind, interspersed with infrequent bouts of activity, and they were no closer to their shared goal. Kazao was almost ready to give up the entire endeavour, save he couldn't. The need for blood drove him to comply, always clawing at the insides of his throat.

He looked down at his gauntlet, and the small glassic vial within. Traces of Transhuman blood clung to the insides, stains of his hasty imbibing. He had just sated his thirst and for a moment his thoughts were clear, but not for long. The times between draughts were growing shorter, the need more desperate. Kazao didn't know how much longer he would remain sane, or capable of speech.

To distract himself he looked out the panoramic window at the broad vista of the Serpens Rex. The conspirators had met in one of the abandoned Cathedrums on the Widdershins quadrant. For millennia it had laid exposed to vacuum, but recent efforts had made it airtight again. The shining marble floor gleamed, the golden furnishings had been placed in their proper fixings and the altars was spotless. A shame that so much work had gone into the repairs, since the Amber Vipers had no use for such décor. The current Amber Vipers were not blood-kin to Maru's ancient breed, they felt no communion or desire to venerate their deeds. So the Cathedrum sat empty, hollow in more ways than one.

"Coluber's latest hair-brained scheme has us drifting down a river, in space, its madness," Shrios lamented.

"Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on him?" Larus needled.

"I have my hands full covering up the dead bodies from the Ghostwind. We've lost thousands of Chattels."

"You care about Chattels?"

"No, not really, but it's only a matter of time till it starts killing Space Marines too."

Kazao interrupted, "The Blood Talons seem convinced this apparition will bring us to Dimmamar."

"And then it will be too late!" Shrios snapped.

"Or just the right time," Kazao argued.

"You better explain that."

Kazao turned his helm to regard him, "We can't get near the Lamentantor, not with squads watching her every second. Ferrac doesn't trust them, he is on alert. But when we get to Dimmamar everyone will be distracted. Digging up the vault is going to be a huge effort, requiring many hands. So, while everyone is distracted, we can sneak into the Blood Talon's abode and steal the Black Chalice."

"That could work," Larus allowed.

"I still don't like it," Shrios sneered.

Larus laid his hand on the stock of his relic bolter, "I am growing less and less concerned with what you like."

"Don't threaten me whelp," Shrios snorted, "I brought you into this Chapter, and I can take you out."

"Stop arguing," Kazao barked, "We'll get it done, just give us time."

"See that you do," Shrios hissed as he turned and stomped out.

"You better be right," Larus chided as he too departed.

Kazao shook his head, weary of the bickering. The pair were the last people he would want to be trapped with, but such was his fate. Forlornly he returned to gazing out the window, examining the towering spires and mighty bulwarks. So strange, he'd grown used to the magnificent desolation of the Nest, to see it in its majesty was jarring. Yet not all was well, the others thought their home base was restored, but that was but a surface impression, beneath the glory a dark canker lurked. Treachery in the heart of the Amber Vipers.

"You've certainly got yourself in a fix," a familiar voice uttered.

Kazao froze, not daring to look about as he gulped, "Who's there?!"

"Doesn't recognise me, I'm a little hurt."

Kazao's helm turned to the side and he saw a Space Marine leaning on the window, one elbow resting on the glassic as a fist supported his head. A nonchalant pose, which matched the broad grin on his wide face. Faintly transparent, and yet the colours of the Amber Vipers could be made out. The face was unmistakable, one Kazao knew all too well. A friend, long lost.

"Glord?!" Kazao breathed.

"Give that man a Successor Chapter," Glord chuckled.

"You can't be here!"

"You can't either," Glord snorted, "Wandering Imperium Nihilus, what else did you expect other than ghosts?"

"But how?" Kazao gasped.

Glord waved his other hand, "The Amber Vipers have never been strangers to wild misadventure, remember some of our madder scrapes? But you've plunged off the deep end with this one. The Terran side of the rift pretends some form of continuity still exists, but on this side anything is possible. You've seen enough to know this is true."

"You're not Glord!" Kazao protested.

"Afraid I am, same Glord who carried Reddam out of an Exodite Forest. Same Glord who died to blow up a Necron superweapon."

"You can't be, this is a trick, I'll get Maru to banish you!"

"Maru's a bit busy with his own visitation, everyone is. But you have more pressing concerns, like the clusterfrak of a mistake you're about to make."

Kazao stepped back warily, as Glord pushed off the Glassic window. He looked over the vista, drinking it in. He'd died shortly after they found the Serpens Rex and had no time to appreciate it. Now he seemed determined to savour every moment, like a soldier staring at his last sunrise, before going into battle.

"You've come a long way," Glord sighed, "But your road leads to damnation. If you go through with this, you'll be a Traitor."

"I already am," Kazao spat.

"You've made some missteps, but nothing that can't be righted," Glord chided, "If you come clean to Coluber."

"You know I can't do that," Kazao rebuked, "The need is in me, the craving. I have to get Transhuman blood, and only Shrios can provide that. I have to do his will, whether I want to or not."

"Shrios has lost it," Glord spat, "Consumed by bitter jealousy. He's on a path to self-destruction and he's taking you with him."

"Don't tell me you can see the future," Kazoa scoffed.

Glord however snorted, "I don't have to. He has grown petty and small-spirited. He was always surly, but whatever bright spark he once owned has gutted out. Shrios has chewed over every careless word and missed laurel, stewing in bitterness till he can see nothing but spite. You shouldn't be like him; you can still walk away."

"I can't," Kazao protested, "There's no other outcome for me."

"If you won't confess, then there's only one honourable course: kill yourself."

"What?!" Kazao spat.

Glord opened his hands wide, "If you continue you will become something you don't want to be. A vile Traitor. Better to end it clean, while you are still an honourable Amber Viper."

Kazao glared, "Now I know you're not Glord. He would never say such a thing."

"You know I speak the truth; you've thought of it in the dark hours of the night. The need grows, pushing out the Marine and letting in vile thoughts. You dream often of slitting the throats of your kin and drinking every last drop that spills out. It's true, you know it."

Kazao's anger stirred, "I will not hear this."

But Glord pleaded, "Kazao, you were my Brother and I see your plight. You don't need the blood, you can beat this craving. Come clean to Coluber, or end it before it's too late, but don't do this."

Kazao sneered back, "You are half-right. I don't need blood, but I want it. I've had enough of being pushed about, by ghosts, by Shrios, by everyone. I won't give up, not until I get what I want!"

"You think the Black Chalice can cure you?!"

"I don't care if it cures or kills me, but I want to taste its power. The vibrancy of a Primarch's blood, that's worth risking death. I shall take it and drain every last drop!"

Glord stepped back, shaking his head, "Do this and you'll be damned."

"I'm damned already, time I embraced it," Kazao spat, "Go away, you're not my friend, I don't know what you are."

"No," Glord sighed, "I suppose we aren't friends, not anymore."

The ghost stepped away, and in a blink he was gone. Kazao stared for a long moment after, wondering if Glord would return, but there was no sign. In his hearts he knew a line had been crossed, one he could never undo. He'd committed to his path, without reserve or hedging. He'd been pushed into this darkness without agency, but at last was taking control of his own life. And he knew just where to begin. The time had come for Kazao to seize his destiny and become the master of his own fate. Shrios could go hang, Kazao was doing this for Kazao.