Indrik stood watching the slumbering form of the Dreadnought sarcophagus, his eyes fixed upon the frost covered chains that bound it. His helmet was clamped to his belt and his arms were folded across his broad chest, his taloned fingertips brushing lightly against the winged skull there. His short forked beard was brittle with ice flecks and his skin was dusted with glittering crystals of cold. He was alone with the possessed, discounting the presence of the Sentinels, who hadn't moved since securing their guardian posts either side of the chained machine. The grey warriors stood in identical positions, their gauntlets upon the pommels of their zweihanded power blades. He studied them for a moment, these men whose sole devotion was to persecute the Psyker. They wore no markings denoting them part of the Vermillion brotherhood, except that of the Death company cross upon their right shoulder. Every other inch of their grey armour was bossed with prayers and blessings of faith. They were utterly driven men without any sense of the word compassion. They were ruthless killers and the Knights needed them.

Indrik gazed at the broad chest plate of the first Sentinel, it was bare except for a bronze bolt and a name embossed upon it in curled Gothic.

' Saul '

He flicked his eyes to the second one and read the name there, realising these men were not just blades, but something else entirely.

' Peytr '

Indrik recalled a memory long lost in the dusted libraries of his memory bank, from the time of his inception into the Chapter. There was a young boy from his village named Peytr and he had a twin brother named Saul. He knew he was most likely just speculating but was it possible for them to be those twins? He knew it was rare for twins to be incepted into the recruiting process, both must have shown remarkable combat skills. Yet, what was more perplexing was the impossible chance of the both of them retaining the Pariah gene. Two null-warriors born to the same mother and both accepting the Gene-seed? Indrik felt a touch of destiny upon the men before him.

' Magnificent, aren't they? '

Came the whisper from behind him. If he had been anyone other than a Space Marine he would have surely felt fear or shock. As it was, he simply turned to regard the new comer. The yawning portal behind the new visitor ground shut with the cacophony of chains and gears. The huge stone door rumbled back into place, completing the binding runes once more.

' Yes, Lord Judaiz. Truly the pinnacle of what it means to be a warrior. '

Lord Judaiz stepped up beside the Chaplain and the room suddenly seemed a little more darker. He was the head of the Sentinel Order, an ambitious man who according to the hear say of the upper echelons had his eyes on becoming the next Chapter Master. They controlled the fortress here upon the world of Armacia, operating a gulag of anti-psychic defence for the sector. If the Sentinels did not wish for the planets of the Knights Vermillion to be found, they would make it so. Armacia was a dead planet, a nuclear wasteland scoured uninhabitable by its proximity to the star it orbited. The Knights Vermillion retained their fortress monastery upon this barren rock, in the shell of a star ship that jutted from the planets crust like a mighty mountain. It was a vessel from before Old Night, dwarfing even the Grand Cruisers of the Imperial Navy. It was a home ship from the early days of Terra's space expansion. It had taken the first Knights of the Chapter many centuries to make it habitable enough for Space Marines but it now provided the most secure defensive point in the entire system. The chamber they were stood in was carved into the very rock of the planet itself.

' I hope to find more of our blessed brothers in the next Choosing. It has been too long and the mantle must be passed onto new blood, don't you think Lord Indrik? '

Indrik's red eyes narrowed for a brief fraction, he could smell the undertone in Judaiz words and it was sour to his senses. So blatant in his goals this one was and it disturbed the Chaplain to see such obvious power mongering.

' I think the Chapter prevails because it works together, brother shoulder to shoulder with brother. Sentinel and Knight stood together to face the darkness of wytchery. '

Judaiz spread a feral smile across his aquiline features. His nose was an eagles beak, hooked and sharp, his eyes were shrewd and calculating. His smile that of a vipers. He took several steps forward and unsheathed the blade at his hip, the blade instantly illuminating the room with a blinding white light, purple arcs of energy dancing along the blade. It was like staring into the sun. The Lord Sentinel lifted the weapon and dug its point into the ceramite of the Dreadnoughts front, a hissing filled the chamber and globs of molten armour splashed to the ground, freezing like candle wax.

' I agree, yet, were would the Chapter be if my honoured ancestor hadn't been there the moment the darkness swallowed the Chapter? Where would we all be if he hadn't struck down Luxor when he turned from the Light? '

Indrik's jaw tightened. He could almost feel Judaiz ego suffocating the air from the chamber. He understood the Sentinels point of opinion and the questions asked but they were about as subtle as a bolt round to the face and Indrik believe Judaiz was not adverse to doing such an action when it came to the shift of power. They could all feel it in the air, the Chapter Master was slipping in his control and it was only a matter of months at best before someone challenged him for the right of successor ship.

' What Luxor did pulled our brothers into darkness and damnation yes, but you can-'

Judaiz spun on the spot, the tip of his blade screeching along the Dreadnought and leaving a deep gouge in the frontal decoration. The blade stopped before the Chaplain, pointed like a marker for his hearts before Judaiz sheathed the mighty weapon. Indrik's hands curled into fists at his sides, his hand straying to his Crozius Arcanum.

' What Luxor did would have been the end of us all. You surely know the history, Chaplain? You teach it to the younglings! The first Librarian amongst our ranks and he plunges us into civil war. Badab was a disaster for us. We didn't even make it to the war because of Luxor's machinations...tell me the story Indrik. I beg thee. '

Indrik bared his teeth for a moment, the gesture clear before clearing his throat.

' Grandeur is not needed here, you know what happened. Luxor commanded our Chapters fighting forces alongside Malefictus, we were summoned to war and we departed in the mighty battle barges. The Dominator heading the fleet. Luxor's Bravery turned upon us exiting the warp to recalibrate our jump drives. We lost The Retribution and a quarter of the Chapters fighting strength. The Dominator was engaged in boarding actions by Luxor's Bravery and the blood toll was terrible. Luxor had triggered the death rage buried deep inside of us, turning fully a third of the chapter on what forces we had left. By the time it was ended and Uron had launched a counter attack upon the Bravery we had lost over half the Chapters fighting strength. Your ancestor, the First Sentinel slew Luxor after he had wounded Uron to the brink of death. We have been rebuilding our numbers since that war and scouring any trace of psychic activity from our brothers since. '

Judaiz was gloating by the end of the speech, his smile wicked and cruel. He stepped past Indrik and pressed his palm into the activation rune for the large stone door sealing the chamber, as it began to rumble aside he turned his head to glance at the Chaplain over his shoulder.

' Remember that the only reason this Chapter survived is because of us. Uron would do well to remember that as well. It is high time a new Malefictus was crowned head of our brothers, a new Uron with the clarity to know what this Chapter needs. '

Indrik turned to glare at the Lord Sentinel, his lip raised in a sneer and he spat his question.

' And that is what exactly? '

Judaiz stepped through the portal and smirked.

' Me. '

Then he was away from the chamber, the door grinding back into position. Indrik turned back to the Dreadnought and the Sentinels, still silently guarding the Psyker Machine. It seemed the Knights Vermillion was about to be consumed in the darkness once again and soon.