A maze of black corridors, scattered with slaves who cowered from the Chaos Marines walking past them, one carrying two corpses upon his mighty shoulders. The number of passages and chambers was gigantic, for gatherings of those who followed Chaos were hard to find by necessity. If Lord Araghast had not known the way, Eliphas estimated it would have taken him days to reach the exit without interrogating one of the mewling slaves.

Even so, the unnatural cold and faint scents of ozone and depravity were detectable for a long way, showing the strength of their naive dabbling in the Warp. Eliphas cursed himself for his ineptitude. He should have realised that the cultists had not been able to summon daemons – they were too few and could not have merely happened upon or inherited the necessary knowledge or materials. Chaos had wormed its way subtly into the hearts of the powerful and influential, as is its fashion, but a host of Black Legionnaires had provided them with the means to swell their numbers with creatures of the Warp.

The scent of Chaos became suddenly strong again as Eliphas followed his new lord into a massive room. Far larger and sparser than the one the cultists were, big enough to house perhaps a hundred Baneblades. The high ceiling was obscured due to darkness. Scant lighting around the place revealed dozens of Chaos Space Marines, all clad in the same black armour. Most of them had black helmets, but a few scattered around donned the peaked red or pink helmets that marked them out as Berserkers or Noise Marines. The noise of bragging, threats and other brash annoyances assaulted Eliphas' ears. His frown deepened.

However, as Araghast strode pompously into the centre of the room, the noise died down, the lackeys gazing with awe and respect at their leader.

"Who is this fool, master?" asked a skittish warrior, bolter held cautiously towards Eliphas, ready shoot if his lord should require.

"He was summoned by the foolish governors. As you can see, he has killed Nemetrius and Kagor, my trusted guards." Eliphas let the corpses fall disdainfully. The crowd began to buzz quietly.

"He killed them..."

"Summoned, you say?"

"Let's pull him apart bit by bit..."

Eliphas became very conscious that he was surrounded.

"Stay your hands, my hounds. He is under my protection, for now at least," rumbled Araghast. His warband backed down immediately like beaten dogs. Good. A leader nobody would listen to is begging for a dagger in the back.

Not that he wouldn't get one eventually...

He turned to Eliphas, his vox turned down. "Strip the bodies and don a suit of power armour, and do not steal any weaponry."

"Yes... my Lord." Eliphas left without kneeling or even bowing. He doubted Araghast cared.

Dragging the corpses behind him, Eliphas strode up to a team of slaves busily cleaning an empty black armour set. "Dispose of these worms, and give me that armour."

"B-but sir, Crunax wears that and..." The slave that had spoken out quailed under Eliphas' withering stare.

"That is not my concern, slave. Your concern is merely to get rid of these carcasses and dress me in that armour. Understand?"

"Y-yes, sir!" said the slave, and five of them scurried over to the bodies to take them to either a mausoleum or a furnace. The rest took the suit to Eliphas, dressing him in the familiar heavy ceramite. One of the slaves carried the helmet, looking eager.

"No, I do not require the helmet. Crunax may wear that, if he wishes." The slave nodded, relieved, and replaced it. Eliphas walked away smoothly back to Araghast. "My Lord, I am armoured."

"Good, whelp. Brothers," Lord Araghast continued, raising his voice, "This man has killed two of our number. Any who wish to slay him in turn must challenge him one by one. The one who kills him becomes my new bodyguard. Begin."

Eliphas looked around contemptuously, noting the mixture of emotions of the Warband. Though many of their faces were obscured, he could see the nervous ones that were practically slumped in their armour, and the angry ones staring at him intently, ready to go for their weapons.

"First!" shouted a voice from behind Eliphas, and he could hear his challenger charging him down, revving his chain-weapon in readiness. Eliphas turned to see one of the Berserkers running at him, right hand holding a chainaxe high, left hand aiming a bolt pistol at him. The pistol barked, spitting a bolt. Eliphas took it on the pauldron, settling into a low stance, ready to absorb the charge.

When it came, the charge was as strong as he'd been expecting. His right hand caught the gun, wresting it from the Khornate's grip and emptying the magazine into his side, pulping the Berserker's ribs so a deluge of blood ran down his armour. His scream was one of fury rather than pain, and the chainaxe came down so powerfully that Eliphas could barely catch it, shifting to the side so the blade ground against into armoured shoulder rather than his skull. Throwing the Khornate aside, Eliphas knocked him down, took his chainaxe and messily cut through his spine, silencing him in mid-scream.

"Anybody else?" asked Eliphas menacingly, raising the dripping chainaxe. No takers. Good. Even the fellow Khornates seemed hesitant now that one of their number lay almost bisected in a pool of the blood he had once venerated and strived to spill for Khorne.

Eliphas hoisted the chainaxe over his shoulder and holstered the bolt pistol, sauntering through the crowd which opened up before him. None dared look him in the eye. Araghast's voice boomed through the massive room.

"The Warp... whispers to me. Orks infest the sewers and dark places in this place. The timing could not be more perfect! We shall drive the Orks to Angel Forge to catch the attention of the Blood Ravens protecting the planet, and then we shall slaughter them all! Prepare for battle, for we strike as soon as possible!"

The announcement was met with a mighty cheer, a bloodthirsty, warmongering roar heralding that which would soon set this world alight with Chaos.

Eliphas felt a familiar rush of adrenaline. He felt the heady sensation of battle. He would meet the Blood Ravens with bolter and sword.

He might even meet a few old friends along the way...

A/N: Over two hundred views? Impossible! By all means I should have had this one up a day earlier, but other duties/mild writer's block happened.

I feel that this chapter isn't up to scratch with the others, as I didn't have as much fun writing it as I usually do, so my apologies for that. Suggestions for improvements are especially welcome for this one.

Thanks to Doccy who helped me decide that screw canon, Eliphas deserves to be a Daemon Prince so he's gonna be a goddamn Daemon Prince. After that, even Abaddon must watch his back.

Finally, a huge thank you to all readers so far, and I hope you have enjoyed and continue to enjoy this little series!