To their eternal credit, the Guardsmen held. The crackle of lasgun fire filled the air, blasts bouncing harmlessly off the daemon's thick, crimson skin. The crackles were punctuated by the rhythmic thrumming of grenades being fired to slightly better effect. One grenade found its mark, exploding a small chunk of flesh from the daemon's chest. The ravenous smile on the Bloodthirster's face only grew wider as it assessed the damage.

"Good… " It growled. "I always prefer a bit of sport before a slaughter."

It swung its massive battle-axe in a wide arc at Dovator. He barely evaded to his left, caught off guard by the inhuman speed and ferocity of the attack. The Inquisitor thrust his power sword upward, carving a deep gash in the daemon's side.

"Back to the depths of hell with you!" he cried, harnessing his psychic energy to imbue his blade with his faith in the God-Emperor, just as he had been taught by the Ordo Malleus so many years ago. "You cannot stand before the righteous servants of the Emperor!"

The daemon let out a roar of pain. Lasgun fire and grenades continued to hammer its hide as it set its eyes on the Inquisitor. Dovator felt a chill run down his spine as those terrible eyes bored into him, piercing his very soul. He felt paralyzed, despite every fibre of his being telling him that he needed to move, needed to fight.

Somewhere off to his right, Sara screamed in pain. The hold over him broken, Dovator caught a brief glimpse of her convulsing body on the ground before charging forward, power sword raised high. The daemon tilted its head, an expression of confusion flickering briefly over its bestial face.

"We are His sword!" Dovator sliced across one of the beast's goat-like legs. "Our faith is anathema to you and your kind! Go back!"

Another grenade found its mark, widening the wound the Inquisitor had inflicted. The Bloodthirster let out a deafening roar and flapped its mighty wings. The force knocked the Inquisitor on his back.

With an effortless leap from its powerful legs, the daemon sailed over him and went crashing into the line of Guardsmen. They scattered, terrified as the beast swung its massive axe. Three men were cut down where they stood, their viscera strewn on the ground. The rest pulled back toward the entrance to the courtyard, continuing to fire until they disappeared into the gloom.

Dovator rose to his feet. "I am a vessel for the Light of the God-Emperor. You are an abomination that cannot be permitted. Face me, daemon!"

The Inquisitor charged forward again, thrusting his sword at the beast's chest. His foe parried effortlessly with its axe, sending Dovator crashing to the ground. As he tried to regain his feet, the brutal whip came screaming through the air.

"Look out!" Weiss shoved the Inquisitor out of the way, raising his lasgun above his head with both hands in an attempt to block the coming blow.

The whip cracked down with thunderous force, splintering the lasgun in two. Its metal studs raked across the tech adept's face before snapping down through his left arm. Weiss crumpled on top of the Inquisitor, his face bloody and his arm mangled. He wasn't moving.

Dovator heaved his savior's body off of himself and gained his feet swiftly, roaring with rage as he swung his blade upward with a two-handed strike. The daemon staggered backward in surprise as its whip fell to the ground with a loud thud, its hand still clutching the handle. Blood flowed freely from the stump, forming a small pool near its hooves.

The Inquisitor stepped back, putting some distance between himself and the horrific beast before him. He wiped blood from his face, a mixture of the daemon's, his friend's, and perhaps even his own. Exhaustion washed over him, but he would not permit it to take hold. There was still work to be done.

"Come on!" Dovator pointed his power sword at the monstrous creature before him. "If I am to die here, I will see you banished first!" Had I more men, I might make good on that promise.

As if in response to his unspoken prayer, a volley of lasgun fire erupted from somewhere in the gloom.


Borglyn charged across the courtyard, half a dozen Guardsmen following close behind. Another volley of lasgun fire cracked over his head from a firing line he had set up near the entrance.

His unit had breached the front doors of the palace after a short and bloody fight on the steps. The remaining heretics had fought savagely and to the last, and the colonel had lost a third of his numbers to the enemy's ferocity. They had just entered the palace when an inhuman roar echoed through the empty halls. As they closed in on the courtyard, they had rallied the panicked Guardsmen who had fallen back and rushed to join the battle.

"Grenades!" The colonel ordered as they closed the distance with the daemon. Explosions went off all around the beast, sending up clouds of dirt. Borglyn charged through the haze, slashing at the daemon. His power sword raked across its hide again and again, leaving deep gashes. It howled, swinging its maimed arm in a wild blood frenzy, unable to see its attacker clearly through the gradually settling dust cloud.

Borglyn retreated, dodging the daemon's blows. His Guardsmen pressed forward, firing their lasguns and stabbing at the monster with bayonets. They followed their colonel's lead, striking quickly and retreating from the daemon as it swung at them in a rage.

"Suffer not the daemon to live!" Dovator joined them with his own attacks, slashing at the daemon from the side as it focussed its attention on the new threat. It lashed out with its axe, knocking the Inquisitor's blade from his hands and sending him to the ground.

The beast once again spread its mighty wings, beating them with enough force to knock the Guardsmen back. Borglyn stumbled and watched in horror as the daemon crashed into his Guardsmen, stomping with its powerful legs and bringing its heavy battle-axe down upon them. None survived its brutal onslaught.

Borglyn charged forward again, Dovator at his side. The two men moved quickly, the Inquisitor slashing one of the daemon's legs while Borglyn pivoted under the creature's arm and brought his sword up through one of its leathery wings.

The colonel retreated again, and watched the Inquisitor do the same. He surveyed the damage they had dealt to the abomination standing before them: blood dripped from the stump of its maimed arm; several chunks of flesh were missing from its chest and thighs; blood trickled down its massive body from countless gashes; one of its wings hung, tattered and frayed, against its back. And it laughed.

"You have been worthy opponents," it growled, baring its blood-encrusted fangs in a twisted grin. "Your deaths will make a great offering for the Blood God. We will devour this world, and then the next, and the next. This entire sector will be awash in blood."

"It is you that will perish this day, daemon. By Holy Terra, we will send you back from whence you came." Dovator readied his blade for their next attack.

Borglyn raised his own and nodded to his old friend. They would end this, and Gaea Prime would be reclaimed in the Emperor's name. It would take time to rebuild all that they had lost, but he was sure their world would come back better and stronger.

Another volley of lasgun fire erupted from the far side of the courtyard, pelting the daemon's tough hide and drawing its attention. The colonel seized the opportunity.

"For Gaea Prime! For the Emperor!" Borglyn rushed head-on toward the daemon, the Inquisitor joining the attack on the daemon's right flank. They struck as one, wounding the beast's unmaimed arm. Its grip on the battle-axe loosened, and the weapon fell from its hand, crashing to the ground with a dull thud.

The daemon swept out its powerful arm, catching the Inquisitor in the chest and taking him off his feet. He flew backwards, hitting the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him.

Borglyn readied himself as the daemon charged forward. He thrust his power sword at the beast with all his strength. It parried with its bloody stump, the blade carving a deep channel along the daemon's forearm before being wrenched out of the colonel's hands.

The beast reached out with the other hand, powerful claws closing around Borglyn's chest and lifting him high into the air. It brought him within inches of its snarling, bestial face and let out a deafening roar. The muscles of its powerful arm bulged as it drew the colonel back before slamming him into the nearby monument with thunderous force.

Borglyn felt his chest cave in as he impacted the marble structure. A warm, wet feeling spread across his back. He tried to move, but his arms and legs refused to cooperate. He saw his old friend, still lying prostrate on the ground nearby, and prayed the Inquisitor would find the strength to continue the fight before it was too late.

"Get up," he tried to shout, but only a soft gurgle escaped his lips. His vision blurred, and then there was nothing.


The crackle of lasgun fire and coppery smell of blood dragged Sara back to consciousness. She looked around as she rose to unsteady feet. Nearby, she could see the gruesome remains of several Guardsmen that had given their lives in this horrible fight. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw Borglyn's body. It was embedded in the courtyard's monument, a grotesque Aquila that seemed to simultaneously celebrate the Imperium's continued sacrifice for the greater good of its citizens and undermine its claim of galactic superiority.

Nearby on her left, Sara saw Weiss' crumpled form lying bloodied on the ground and felt a deep sorrow that she had never felt before. He was a friend, the first true friend that she had made after her rebirth as a human. It was wrong that he should be taken from her so soon and in such a barbaric way.

The sight ignited a primal rage in her chest. As she drew her laspistol, words floated unbidden to the front of her mind. She remembered hearing them a lifetime ago, while in servitude to Inquisitor Braxxus; a time before she had been treated as a human, when she had not been allowed to speak of her own accord. She was uncertain if they would help now, but she had to do something. I will speak them because I have a voice. The words tumbled from Sara's mouth with a volume and force of will that she did not know she possessed.

"God-Emperor on Holy Terra, protect Your faithful servants in battle."

She stood tall, proud, firing her laspistol over and over again at the mighty daemon. The shots sizzled harmlessly against its hide, a mere nuisance to this monstrosity that was death incarnate. It stalked silently toward Dovator, its massive battle-axe scraping along the ground beside it.

"Be the Light that delivers us through the darkness."

Sara continued to fire. The shots continued to sizzle against the daemon's thick hide. But now, the creature began to take notice. The words were having an effect: Warp instability began to creep in, weakening the daemon's hold in the material world. Every shot carried with it her faith. Every verse uttered restitched the veil that had been rent, little by little. What was a nuisance to the daemon now became a persistent sting. It stopped and turned its bestial head toward her. She had its full attention.

As Sara continued her prayer, Dovator joined his voice with hers.

"Cast back this abomination who dares to walk among us. Shield our souls from its wickedness, and temper our swords, that we may stand firm in Your name. The daemon cannot stand against Your Light. When it is gone, we will remain, a testament to Your awesome power."


Dovator was surprised that Sara knew the prayer that she had just recited. Moreover, he was impressed by her powerful oration and display of bravery in the face of this nightmarish creature.

The Inquisitor closed the distance to the daemon quickly, taking full advantage of the distraction Sara had provided. The battle had weakened the beast significantly, and now was the moment to finally vanquish it.

The daemon noticed him at the last moment and turned toward him, roaring as it strained to raise its mighty battle-axe high above its head with its wounded arm. Dovator feinted to the right before dodging left. The axe fell with thunderous force, embedding itself deep in the ground. Safely inside the daemon's guard, the Inquisitor struck upward with all his might.

"Begone, daemon!"

He plunged his sword through the beast's chin, embedding it deep in the creature's skull and twisting it. The daemon's arms twitched as it tried and failed to raise its battle-axe once more. Finally, it slumped forward onto its knees, the crushing weight of its massive body causing the ground to shudder. The Inquisitor wrenched his blade free, and bright blood cascaded from the gaping wound, its jaw slack in death.

Dovator stepped backwards, collapsing to the ground as exhaustion finally took hold of him. The gloom of the courtyard persisted despite the Bloodthirster's destruction, a testament to the immense amount of blood that had been shed here in the name of the Blood God.

Nearby, the remains of a dozen courageous Guardsmen littered the ground, their butchered bodies barely recognizable. The surviving soldiers walked solemnly amongst them, searching in vain for any wounded that could be saved. The Inquisitor noticed that among the living were some of the soldiers that had been under his command when the daemon had first shown itself. They had returned to the fight after falling back, despite being faced with a horror greater than any of them could have imagined. He would always remember their exceptional courage on this day.

Sara knelt next to Weiss, tears in her eyes. The Inquisitor could see her lips moving but could not hear what she was saying. As he rose to his feet to join her, a deep sadness gripped his heart. Weiss had been the first to join him on his never-ending quest, so many years ago now. They had survived countless dangers together and come to rely on one another to navigate the most trying times. Today was perhaps the greatest challenge that they had ever faced, the capstone to a disastrous month-long campaign littered with death and destruction. And for the first time, Dovator would not have Weiss there with him at the end of it.

Sara removed one of the purity seals she had pinned to her lapel and rested it on Weiss' chest. She withdrew her hand quickly in surprise, turning to the Inquisitor. "He's still alive!"

Dovator rushed to Weiss' side and Sara made space for him. Two Guardsmen soon joined them; they weren't medics but had received some battlefield medical training and still had supplies in their medi-kits. They got to work immediately, applying clotting agents and compression to the tech adept's wounds to stabilize him.

While they worked, the Inquisitor slipped the vox-caster from Weiss' back and configured it for transmission to orbit. He raised the speech horn to his mouth.

"This is Inquisitor Dovator requesting immediate extraction from the Imperial palace. We have wounded."

"Copy, Lord Inquisitor. Transports inbound to the south. Ten minutes."

Dovator nodded to the two Guardsmen. "Thank you."

He turned to Sara and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Stay with him."

With one last look at Weiss, Dovator forced himself back to his feet and walked slowly toward the desecrated monument at the centre of the courtyard.

It had been so long since he had spoken with his childhood friend, and the recent campaign had provided little time for reminiscing. He had hoped that after they had reclaimed their home, they would find the time to reconnect before duty separated them once more.

Dovator reached the monument. He removed his hat and let it fall to the ground by his side. Borglyn's unseeing eyes looked down upon him and he forced himself to meet their plaintive gaze.

"Emperor, take up the souls of John Borglyn and all Your faithful servants who have given their lives this day in service to You. Grant them eternal rest and shine Your Light upon them, that they may know peace at last."

Dovator closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, the colonel was still staring at him expectantly, asking him to unburden himself and share what was on his mind. John was always the better listener.

"I am sorry, old friend. We should have left this place weeks ago, but we were both too stubborn to see the truth. I… I did not want to do what I know now must be done. I will not permit this cancer to spread further."