Attelus elected to follow the main corridor, as above, plenty of alcoves and shadows seemed to consume the light. He ignored the doors in the walls for now. It was labyrinthine, with a few turns here and there. And turn-offs, but all of them were only a few metres down before ending at another door.

There were too many damned doors, frig it. During this time, Faleaseen had withdrawn; she'd needed to rest after such an extended exertion, but she'd been hesitant to leave him alone.

It was a while before he stopped as another thought occurred to him. Why the hell was he following Enandra and the others down here? He supposed he wanted to make sure they were okay, but surely they would be long gone by now? Especially with his newfound old-man speed. Assuming they weren't overwhelmed and consumed by the horde, of course. Attelus didn't see them among the walls of corpses, but they could've been hidden underneath the piles, and he had hardly tried to search for them. He could just try to leave outside and walk the road back to civilisation.

That consideration actually made Attelus feel sick, and he didn't know why. Perhaps he could...

Attelus reached for his microbead, but of course, it wasn't there. He had probably eaten along with him, but Enandra had perhaps sent word of his betrayal after his escape. So, his brief time as a Throne Agent was likely over. How the hell he was going to find and stop Etuarq now was beyond him.

Yet again, Attelus sighed and began toward the next turn. He wished his damn body would finally work better, frig it. When he finally made it around the corner, he froze at what he had found.

Another staircase led a few metres down to a wide downward stairwell but lying in front of it. Scattered and shattered were corpses.

'Shit!' Attelus cried and began limping down the stairs and fighting hard to keep himself from falling. As he approached, the despair consumed him more and more. It was them, all of them, Enandra! Soloston! Goruan! The Palantine! Hadrel! Frigging all of them.

'No, no, no, no!' Attelus yelled as he fell to his knees into the pooling blood. His wide eyes shot around them, trying to find some sign of life in the tragedy.

But of course, there was none.

Then, through the haze in his head and the despair, Attelus began to comprehend-

It was then that the armoured arm wrapped around his neck, and the punch crashed against the base of his spine.

Attelus uttered a muffled cry, and several more blows smashed against it. Not even Wraithbone could withstand such repeated brute force, and his spine broke. Almost instantly, Attelus' legs went limp. The arm let go, allowing him to fall to his side. Attelus groaned and gasped with agony as his body convulsed on the stone floor. Bile flooded his mouth and seemed to sear his throat, followed by vomit, which blasted from his lips and mingled with the blood of his once allies and friends.

The shadows around Attelus bulged and warped, then revealed Serghar Kaltos with two masked cronies on his flanks. Attelus knew the tall, short swordsman and the curved swordsman from Sarkeath. Both he was sure were the supposedly dead Rodylle and Feuilt.

Serghar looked down at Attelus; the smugness on his face was like nothing Attelus had ever witnessed.

'Hello there, my son,' he said. 'Yet again, your foolish sentimentality has made you frig up.'

Attelus wanted to roar; he wanted to launch himself at the bastard and tear him apart with his bare hand! But all he could do was growl like an animal and treat Serghar with his most withering glare.

Serghar just glanced at the curved swordsman, then the short swordsman. He then kicked Attelus in the guts.

Utter agony became Attelus' world, and he blacked out.

What brought him back was the now familiar sound of heavy, clashing footfalls walking around him. Attelus whimpered and closed his eyes. He knew who was about to come into his view. It was her, it was always her, and he was a complete idiot to ever even think otherwise!

'Open your eyes, you little fool!' snarled Serghar. 'Open them, or I will make you open them!'

While desperately fighting back the tears, Attelus did as told to find, of course, Satiristine looming over him. Not Satiristine, Elandria. He expected her to have a similar smug smile to his father's on her oh-so-beautiful face, but she didn't. She looked like she was near to tears as her gaze met his.

'Aww, isn't it sweet,' said Serghar. 'Give me your gun.'

She handed Serghar the weapon like a well-mind-wiped servitor, but her eyes never swayed from Attelus.'

Then Serghar pointed the bolter at her head.

'No!' Attelus managed to yell.

Elandria smiled, and her tears flowed freely. 'Attelus, I l-'

Serghar pulled the trigger.

Attelus could no longer hold back his tears as they overwhelmed him.

'Oh, get over it!' Serghar snapped. 'For frig's sake, she was just another pawn. She means nothing. Nothing!'

'Why?' Attelus mewled.

'What?'

'Why did you do this? Why are you like this? Why are you such a bastard!'

'Why did I kill her? Because the little bitch's personality was intermingling too much with the personality of the Sister of Battle. She had become compromised and because her usefulness has come to an end! And why am I like this?'

Serghar seemed to think on that for a while, before pursing his lips and shrugging. 'Good question, I might think on that.'

Then he looked to the curved swordsman. 'Take him. We have a long way to go walk before we get to the throne.'

The throne? That was Attelus's last thought before he was scooped up and slung roughly over the curved swordsman's shoulder. Attelus yelled as agony consumed him again, and then everything faded and became darkness.

Arlathan looked through the viewing port and into the darkness-endowed jungle outside. There had been no word from The Audacious Edge or the Inquisitor since the morning. He was finding it damned hard to keep his worries hidden from the rest, and he was sure he was failing miserably. He dearly wanted to send out a communique, but the risk was too high. Arlathan just had to keep faith they were okay.

But Arlathan was never the most faithful of individuals.

The soft footsteps approaching his back made him blink, and he turned. It was Karmen.

'We are ready for the mission,' she said.

Arlathan licked his lips and nodded. In truth, they'd been ready for many hours now; they'd just had to wait for the dark of night.

'You alright?' said Karmen.

'Not really. Frig, Karmen, I've never been so stressed and uncertain about a mission before.'

Karmen shrugged. 'You should've been on Sarkeath, then.'

He sighed. 'Okay, guess this will be my Sarkeath, then. Let's start heading out.'

Side by side, Karmen and Arlathan entered the living quarters. Vex sat at his cogitator and vox caster.

'Anything of importance, Vex?' said Arlathan.

'No, Arlathan, if there were anything, I'd have voxed you.'

Arlathan rolled his eyes. 'We're about to move out soon. Make sure you're ready.'

'I'm ready, frig it. I'm always ready.'

'Yeah, sure, whatever you say.'

It was then that Vex straightened and turned to his cogitator. 'Arlathan, we have a visual vox communication request from The Audacious Edge. I'm assuming you want me to take it.'

'Of course,' said Arlathan. 'They might know what the frig is going on!'

Vex nodded, pressed a few studs, and then reeled like he'd been taken a powerful electric shock.

'Y-you have to see this, boss!'

Bemused, Karmen and Arlathan jogged over to look, and both withered in horror at what they saw.

Sitting on the command throne wasn't the captain, but a bloody, tall, long-limbed man in a black bodyglove. Next him stood the smiling Draven, around them were piled up dead bodies of the bridge crew, a visage that made Arlathan fight down a wave of anxiety, it reminded him of the bridge of Torathe's ship three years ago.

But that wasn't even the most horrifying thing.

The man was wearing Adelana's skinned face.

'Where's Attelus?' said the man.

'Hayden?' shrieked Karmen. 'What the hell is going on?'

'Hell is going on,' said the sniper as he pulled the flesh mask off with a slow, deliberate hand, revealing his bloody-covered grinning face. 'It's heaven for me, now, but hell for the crew of this damned ship and soon for you as well. Now, where is Attelus?'

'No! Frig you!' Arlathan roared through gritted teeth, his chest was so tight with horror he couldn't breathe. 'What? How?'

Hayden shrugged. 'With a bit of help from Serghar Kaltos and his...creatures. That's how. Hmm, it's a shame Attelus isn't there. I would've so loved to see the horror on his face at the fate of his pretty little girlfriend. I guess your horror will have to suffice for now. How beautiful, how...pleasurable.'

'Hayden, you bastard!' Karmen screamed. 'You will pay for this!'

'Maybe,' Hayden shrugged. 'But you will be paying much. much sooner.'

Ulysses' voice erupted over the local vox almost as if on cue. 'Shit! We've got three signals coming our way, and fast! Signals that coincide with Adeptus Astartes Thunder Hawk gunships!'

Hayden and Draven laughed, an uproarious, horrible sound that hurt Arlathan to his very core.

'I hope all of them die,' said Draven. 'And I hope it's the most horrible death imaginable. We have informed them of everything. Everything! Now you will pay and pay...dearly.'

'You bastard traitorous bastards!' Karmen yelled, but then they had cut the link, and Arlathan couldn't help but be glad their horrid cackling was gone.

Vex looked at Arlathan with wide, terrified eyes. 'What do we do now?'

Arlathan frowned, and for now, that was all he could do.