The chamber was dark and so cold it caused even the super human Astartes to shiver and seek the comfort of their enclosed armour, helmets and atmosphere seals shut tight against the deep freeze. There were four of the hulking warriors assembled around the huge sarcophagus suspended by thick lengths of adamantine chain in the centre of the room. Three of them wore the black and bone of the Chaplaincy and one bore the iron rimmed skull of the Mechanicum upon his crimson armour. Panels glowed green and red with stark life upon the walls, contrasting the armour of the warriors in a rich plethora of colours. The huge vault door behind them was sealed shut, sealing to become part of the thick armoured walls.

" Indrik, how long has it been since we have had this burden? "

Came a voice soon full of authority and synthesised power that it caused the hairs on the back of the battle hardened Indriks neck to rise. The Interrogator took a side step and turned to face the Master Chaplain of the Knights Vermillion, crossing his black armoured arms across the chainmail tabard upon his torso. The sight of the Chaplains was something to be in awe of, the command structure of the Knights were the Templari, the warrior-priests who struggled to keep their wayward sons in check. Each bore tokens and amulets from a thousand battles and each carried a shield and Crozius into battle. Taloned gauntlets and razor sharp hatred brought swift justice to their enemies, but their deep wisdom and spiritual guidance helped to shape their battle brothers into more than monsters.

The Master Chaplain, the Knight-Templar himself was an awesome sight to behold. Tactical Dreadnought armour encased his form, his head un-helmeted in the chill air of the chamber. No skin remained upon his skull, he had suffered wounds too great to save his features and what remained of his head was encased in a skull of burnished steel, angry bionics glaring red hate at everything he gazed upon, gold tipped adamantium formed the long fangs that glimmered in the low light. Indrik could see the servos and fibre bundles beneath the skull and the scraps of flesh that remained to the venerable elder. The Knight Templar was reaching his eight century, but the ministrations of the Master-smith Ardakas had seen his body near encased in the Terminator armour which made the Chaplain master a terrifying force upon the battlefield.

" I'd wager the last was two thousand turns of Athena, M'lord. The records were ill kept and many have fallen into the darkness of ignorance. "

Indrik was the Chapters Interrogator, tasked to seeking out the seeds of corruption and heresy within the ranks of the Knights and its vassals, it seemed he was being scrutinised for not realising something as disgusting as a psyker was present within the Chapter. He watched Master Alabaster stomp forward two steps to the front of the carved stasis-tomb suspended in the air. The Master gestured with one of his taloned power claws for the Master of the Forge to approach.

" Bring this thing online, Ardakas. "

The crimson armoured warrior stepped forward, his right arm replaced by a whirring bionic, the skeletal steel fingers curling into a fist as he approached the sarcophagus. He kept the anger that bubbled up inside him buried under mountains of data streams and interfaced himself once more with the control panelling upon the side of the suspended tomb. This thing had caused so many deaths, so many of his Adepts and priests were splattered corpses, so many ancient tech destroyed because of this abomination. It sickened him to think his old friend Typhot had been possessed by such a creature while he was tittering upon the brink of death. Alabaster and Indrik had used the word 'Daemon' upon storming the Forge, it had set the Tech-priests to a whole new level of fervour in shutting down the rampant Dreadnought.

Two figures that had accompanied the Chaplains were now stood within the room with them, having stood as silent guardians either side of the Sarcophagus, shrouded in its shadow. They had smashed into the Dreadnought with savage fury only the Templari could muster, but with something extra. These were Sentinels. They armour was an the unpainted grey of ceramite, their helmets black as night. They were the Templari's special weapon in the war against psykers, they were pariahs.

The two Space Marines stepped forward to either side of the Dreadnought tomb and Ardakas could feel the significant drop in the immediate atmosphere, like it became completely devoid of sound or feeling. It was an unpleasant feeling. He resumed his task of bringing the Sarcophagus online and began to chant the rites of incantation.

A flare of sparks and a grinding filled the air of the chamber before a series of lights blinked into life on the front of the stasis-tomb.

It was a tense silence, a long silence before it was broken. A static filled sigh erupted from the dreadnought and the voice was strained.

++ You keep us imprisoned within this chamber? Why do you do this act? ++

Alabaster stepped before the Sarcophagus so the thing within could see him in all his glory. The curved black pauldrons, the taloned power claws, the rolls of parchment that adorned his body and the sigils and runes of the Templari. The Sentinels nodded and the Templar stepped even closer.

" We keep you imprisoned because by your very existence you are an enemy of our Creed. "

There was another silence, then it spoke again.

++ You creatures are extremely ignorant. Your kind is primitive and lack lustre for the rest of the universe around you. ++

Alabaster folded his massive gauntlets across his broad chest. Indrik and the other Chaplain stepped forward to flank either side now they were comfortable the Sentinels null field had contained the things power.

" You are a Daemon, you have possessed one our Honoured Brethren, you are an Abomination that needs to be scryed from existence. "

The thing chuckled, the sound a burst of static that caused Ardakas to subconsciously position his Servo arms in a striking position, he resembled some quasi-mechanical scorpion.

++ We are no Daemon-fiend. Do not accuse us of possession, it is such an unclean process, no, We are using this one as a conduit. We only sought out the latent psychic powers he possesses. ++

All the Chaplains gasped in shock. How could they have missed this? Such a venerable and honoured member of the Chapter a latent psyker? Had Typhot kept it secret? Or had he not even known himself? How had this not been revealed in his scrying as an initiate? So many questions.

While they were forming litanies of protection upon their lips, the thing spoke once more.

++ This is Yien-mal, correct? Athena in your tongue? ++

Alabasters ruby red eyes snapped to the vision slit upon the Sarcophagus and he stomped forward and grasped the adamantine shell in his power claws.

" What do you know of our planet? Speak, creature. "

The thing merely chuckled once more.

++ It is not your planet mon-keigh, it is ours, from before the Beginning. It is the resting place of something sacred, something older than all the races of the galaxy. It is home to an artefact older than time itself and as your Maker, we demand you protect it. They are coming, we can feel them approach. Darkness and Blood will soak your world, the Walking Dead approach from beyond the dark space. ++

Its voice had the air of prophecy and even Alabaster himself was rapt with attention as he listened to the thing.

" Speak, what must we protect? SPEAK! "

Then it whispered.

++ The Life Key. ++