"James!" Lucia screamed. Before she could stop herself, the psyker reached out with her mind. As she had done many times before, Lucia drew upon the raw emotional energy of the Warp. But this time, the unpredictability she had learned to navigate, to anticipate, was beyond what she could have even imagined. Before, it had flowed around her like wind. Now, it hammered her with the force of a hurricane, sending her reeling.

Everything around her was burning, a blazing inferno where in the past, she had had the blurred shapes of the real world to orient her. The clawing Warp spawn assailed the psyker's mind with an immediate ferocity she hadn't expected, their continuous scratching accompanied by a jumble of barely audible whispers that threatened to drive her to madness.

The tendrils of Lucia's soul snaked through the chaos of the Warp like fingers groping wildly in the dark. They fanned out before her, feeling this way and that, searching for Kraken. She had to find him. She was the only one who could save him now, and she was running out of time.

A cauldron of emotions boiled in Lucia's chest, threatening to bubble over and consume her. Despair and stubborn determination vied for control over her heart as she searched, ever more frantically. She wanted nothing more than to leave this wretched place, but she knew she couldn't do that. Not yet. She would not succumb to her fear.

The psyker brought all of her will to bear, an iron fist harnessing her emotions, refining them into something powerful. With a roar of anguish, she finally let them overflow as raw energy, tearing open a corridor through the maelstrom. There, on the other end, she could faintly make out the shape of Kraken standing on unsteady feet.

Her soul pressed forward through the corridor, buffeted from all sides by the raging tempest. She reached out as far as she could, determined to fight her way through. The scratching at her mind became a tearing as something tried to burrow its way in. She screamed. The whispers grew louder despite her attempts to shut them out. They built up to a crescendo, a wave of madness crashing over her as she struggled with all her might to reach Kraken.

The ragged tips of Lucia's battered soul finally broke through to their destination. They slid gently over Kraken, taking firm hold and dragging the rest of her out of the corridor as it collapsed in on itself.

Her soul continued working its way over and around his body, enveloping him from head to toe in the tight, protective embrace shared by lovers who know they may never see each other again. She gave everything she had. She prayed it would be enough.

The whispers stopped. In the centre of the maelstrom, Lucia could make out the shape of a thousand mouths and countless more unblinking eyes. The eyes were all focussed on her, sending a chill down her spine. And then, as if to complete her sense of overwhelming dread, the mouths spoke as one, a daemonic chorus of voices echoing in the now silent storm.

"I see you."


Kraken had just gained his feet when he heard the palace thunder a second time. Another shell screamed through the air toward him, and he knew this was it: there was nowhere to go, and the artillery crew would have compensated for their previous near miss.

He had been forced to face death several times over his years of fighting for Dovator. Always, it had been at a critical moment during a mission, a time at which his death would have meant something, been heroic. But now, the moment had finally come, and it would be pointless. He would die out in the open, no enemies in sight, away from the people he had resolved to lay down his life for.

A shimmer passed across his eyes, blurring the world around him. Time seemed to slow down. He thought for a moment he could see Lucia, the vivid image of her gentle face floating in front of his vision. She smiled. And then she was gone as quickly as she had appeared. The feeling of her presence remained, a welcome comfort before death would take him.

He watched with a detached interest, seemingly from outside his own body, as the shell hit the ground metres from where he was standing. The earth crumpled under his feet, an implosion that sent countless fractures spidering out in every direction. A layer of dirt and rubble vibrated before being lifted violently into the air around him and outward in an ever-expanding cloud.

Kraken felt his feet leave the ground as he was thrown backwards by the blast. The warmth of the explosion washed over him as he hung in the air, seemingly weightless, for what felt like an eternity. He hit the ground hard and his whole world went black.


"So, what do we do about this?" Weiss was asking.

Dovator had been lost in thought since they had discovered the mountain of corpses. The veil between the material world and the Immaterium was extremely weak here and growing weaker every minute. A sacrifice of this magnitude would have created an unmistakeable beacon in the Warp and released nearly enough energy for some unholy abomination to birth itself into the world. Perhaps if they deconstructed this monument of death, carefully laying each body to rest with the appropriate litanies, the strength of the veil would be restored, and the catastrophic risk of daemonic incursion would be averted. Yes, that is the way forward.

The Inquisitor was about to answer Weiss when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was subtle at first, barely a tremor. He turned his full attention back to the mound, watching, waiting. There, again. His eyes narrowed. Bright blood welled up from an unseen source and began to run down the bodies. Trickling red streams wound their way over and around the knots of putrid flesh, soaking through the tattered remnants of clothing that still clung dutifully to their owners.

The mound trembled again, more violently this time. The sounds of snapping bones echoed in the silent gloom of the courtyard as the corpses jerked and shifted. A wet popping emanated from somewhere deep inside the pile as the already hopelessly entangled bodies began to melt into each other, a bloody stew of rotting flesh and bone pulsing and reforming before the Inquisitor's eyes.

Dovator took a step back. Behind him, the whispered uncertainties of the Guardsmen gave voice to the feelings that gripped his heart as the fleshy mass continued its gruesome transformation. Powerful legs and arms began to take shape within the writhing mound until, at last, a hulking form burst forth with a terrifying scream, bloody fabric sloughing off its body to reveal the horrific abomination beneath.

There, in the middle of the courtyard, towering above the Inquisitor on two goat-like legs, was the stuff of nightmares. Sharp horns protruded from its head, framing milky-white eyes that burned with an unsatiable bloodlust. A snarling, fanged mouth completed its bestial face, igniting a primal fear in all those who had the misfortune to look upon it. Leathery wings unfurled on its back as the daemonic Bloodthirster stretched, flexing its body in the wide-open space.

The creature brandished a massive battle-axe in one hand, and with the other, cracked a vicious barbed whip with thunderous force. The daemon's lips peeled back into a twisted grin as it looked upon its adversaries, its horrible laughter reverberating through the courtyard.

"Stand fast!" Dovator shouted over the soul-rending noise, raising his laspistol.

"Fire!"