Peril 2.3

The Vault of Infinity

The Necrons are one of the most redoubtable xenos races the Imperium of Mankind has ever had to fight across the stars. These metallic creatures are impossible to scare, incredibly difficult to destroy and their armament is ignoring so many laws of reality it is akin to sorcery no matter what the Tech-Priests say.

For all their strengths, it is evident the Necrons are a shadow of their former glory. The very technology they used to sleep through hundreds of thousands years was far from perfect and has resulted in the madness of at least five-sixths of their tomb-worlds. A large number of their most important citadels have not survived the aeons, resulting in a broken chain of hierarchy. Where before the Necrons would have mustered in an invincible tide of silver and green energy, their nobles are now fighting between themselves and pursuing old grudges. These xenos who regain consciousness have also lost a lot of their capacity for innovation and stratagems. The Crypteks of the Tomb-Worlds are often the sole beings able to understand and repair their terrible mechanisms and each loss of this particular techno-caste suffer is a grieving blow for their race.

However let's be no mistake: even this shadow is able to threaten the galaxy. The smallest Necron platoon is able to cause untold massacre if it is not stopped at the very start of its rampage. The smallest Necron army, commanded by a determined Overlord, can wipe out all existence on an Imperial World in a matter of hours. If the Imperial archives are so confused on the date of first contact with the Necrons, it is because many dynasties of these murderous xenos leave no survivors when they have the means and the opportunity. This is why the awakening of any Tomb-World always requires the formation of an elite strike force of Guard regiments led by Astartes companies at full strength. Unless the Imperial planet is a Fortress World or a Death World, there is little chance the local PDF will be able to resist these metallic xenos...

Extract from a speech of Cadian General Kurtzer before the Kar Duniash academy cadets, 980M38.

"The problem with Necron Tomb-Worlds is that you have to watch with extreme vigilance all the moves of your Mechanicus contingent." Fay Colonel Aslevev, 114M38.

"The Necrons have a really morbid sense of architecture." Major Taylor 'Weaver' Hebert, 289M35.

"Reload. They will come back." Anonymous Imperial Guardsman.

Ultima Segmentum

Nyx Sector

Moros Sub-Sector

Wuhan System

Wuhan II

7.250.289M35

Thought for the day: In courage we have no equals.

Major Taylor Hebert

"FOR THE GOD-EMPEROR! FOR THE HOLY INQUISITOR OF GATHALAMOR! KILL THE HERETICS!"

Taylor sighed. Even if she had not had pushed her insects as scouts on this corridor, there was no way the soldiers under her command could have missed this stupid scream and the bellowing which came after. Not unless they were all deaf.

"They arrive by the passage at six hours. You know the drill." She said tranquilly in her comm-bead.

Nearly four hundred lasguns were pointed at the five metre-wide passage waiting for the fanatics to charge. In the mean time, her flies and the razorbeetles were killing here and there the officers in her range. At least she thought they were officers. They were better clothed, screamed louder and had better weapons. Not that it was saying much. The pre-Slaughterhouse Nine Merchants of Brockton Bay had had a similar level of organisation and discipline.

"At them for the God-Emperor!"

The men covered in rags and parchment emerged in the feeble light of the underhive square but it was too late. Their small weapons were too short-ranged and too few in numbers to do a difference. One Fay trooper fell on his knees screaming in pain when a red ray of light pierced his right arm but it was a lucky shot. The overwhelming majority of the 4th Company had taken cover behind solid pillars and the crumbling walls. The swords in bad state and the laspistols had no chance to go through rockcrete and ferrocrete.

"Fire!" Screamed Captain Suhur Baltomin, commanding the 4th Company of the Fay 20th.

Four hundred lasguns shot as one and the mass of screaming criminals and fanatics collapsed under the laser fire. It was a massacre. The Inquisitorial force had advanced in a mass so dense that no Fay gunner could truly miss. If you failed to shoot this shaven-skulled man in the torso, you got another one in the arm. And with the flies she put in their eyes and the beetles she used to bite their hand-wielding weapons, they could not even shoot back.

It was a massacre and she did her best not to throw up at the sight of the butchery. There was blood everywhere, human parts spread out on the walls and the floors and agonising enemies moaning, begging for someone to help them. Honestly, it was far better to kill orks. The green aliens were mad brutes, she didn't feel bad killing them that way.

Still, whoever had thought that laser weapons were more humane than bullets had not seen the spectacle she was looking at. The lasguns of the Guard when they were at their battle regulations hurt terribly and cauterised the place where it had hit. Shoot a man – or anything else living for that matter – and the result was not pretty to watch.

"Cease fire." The new Major ordered calmly but two platoons continued firing anyway. "Cease fire! Stop wasting ammunition!" Finally the lasguns stopped firing and Weaver designated the undisciplined soldiers to their Company Commissars. When this mess would be over, latrine duty and weapon maintenance would be their 'recompense'.

"We must be close from the Inquisitors." Weaver told Baltomin. "They're getting more desperate."

"True." Grunted the grey-haired Captain, watching with a grim look his wounded man receive field healing. "But we don't know how many Tarellians and Penal troops are still below us."

"I have a feeling we are about to discover it." She whispered grimly before forming one of her 'insect clones' in another gallery a hundred metres east next to Captain Tanya Sevrev.

"We have dealt with a one hundred-plus mix of zealots and penal troops." Taylor communicated and to their credit, the women did not jump or cower in fright like the last time they had seen her speak through the insects. "Any signs of Magos Lankovar?"

"Not a single one." Replied the blonde-haired Fay Captain. "We saw several dead Tarellians a few minutes ago, but it is difficult to say if they were killed by the Inquisition or the cogboys. Shall we continue on this section?"

"I don't think we will need to. My bugs have found a new access descending deeper into the foundations of the Hive. Take the corridor to the west and we will regroup in our search for the Magos."

Taylor did her best not to sound incredibly annoyed but really, what was Desmerius Lankovar thinking? The Imperial Guard had needed time to solidify their control over the most vital areas of the Hive, they couldn't just stop their jobs and go running into the unknown. There were tens of thousands men, women and children to protect! They couldn't abandon the reconquest of the Hive at the first flash of green light! But the Magos Explorator had done exactly that, running towards the source of danger with his Skitarii bodyguards as soon as it had been evident the rumours of the 'Vault of Infinity' had been true.

By the time the fusion reactors and the main avenues of the Hive were back under proper control, the Mechanicus detachment had long disappeared in the darkness. The Colonel had given her over three companies to discover where Lankovar had gone – though in practise it meant only two as the 8th Company was needed to guard their flanks and their rear as they descended into the underground.

"My spiders and the beetles will lead the advance." Taylor informed the 4th Company officers around her when she had finished communicating her instructions to the other guardsmen in range. "Be careful not to shoot anyone wearing a red robe."

Baltomin nodded quickly, followed by all the Lieutenants and the men in the vicinity. The guardsmen had complained a lot about the great mutated spiders in the beginning, but the dozen human-sized insects she had managed to take control over were amazingly efficient in terrifying the Tarellians and ambushing the rest of the enemies.

"We advance in three columns, and make sure to keep the melta guns and the flamers ready just in case."

"We didn't need them to beat these traitors." Protested a young black-haired man with the insignia of a sergeant and a posture which screamed 'arrogant' from a kilometre.

"And if we're careful we won't need them." Finished Commissar Zuhev on her right. The glare the political officer sent to the man promised a very lengthy disciplinary session after the battle. The young sergeant blanched – although now that Taylor thought about it, the man was older than her – as Zuhev was a very intimidating figure at the best of times with one eye and one arm replaced by metallic augmentation.

Minutes later the order to march again was given after everyone had the time to drink and eat enough to quiet their stomachs. No one complained as they left the square, alley and dark corridors behind. The further they went down in the underhive, the worse the place got. The middle levels of the Hive had been pleasant quarters to live in: certainly the houses and the shops were at a standard the wealthiest inhabitants of Brockton Bay wouldn't have complained about. According to the reports and the sources of information they had received, the spires were where the nobility lived so the conditions there had to be better. But in an inverse perspective, the more magnetic elevators they had taken to descend, the worse the conditions were.

Bit by bit the electricity, the lighting power and the temperature control disappeared. Law enforcement diminished with every step taken in the depths of Wuhan. The shops, the living conditions had become scarcer and poorer after two scores of lifts. After the third, they had arrived in areas not unlike the gang-controlled areas of Brockton Bay. The only difference...the gangs hadn't really been in control anymore.

Wuhan had a lot of Asian-looking people – but Weaver supposed the Imperium authorities did not even remember what Asia had meant in M3. Anyway, this local version of the Azn Bad Boys had not resisted long against the Inquisitorial shock troops and mercenaries. It looked like the nobles were at least more sensible than Brockton Bay Major and the PRT. These gangs had nothing but very light weapons and blunt masses, easily brushed aside by lasguns and bayonets.

When the attack arrived, it was brutal and merciless.

"Enemy contact two hundred metres away!" The bug-controller parahuman shouted as an enormous shadow got through the wall and literally tore one of her spiders apart.

God, the thing was ugly. It was silver–rusted in colour, a sort of big Terminator flying on a sort of metallic platform with flashing green lights. In one arm it held a gigantic gun coursing in the same unnatural energy. But what struck Weaver was the hate. Despite looking by the eyes and other senses of her insects, the parahuman of Earth Bet knew beyond doubt the thing hated her. It hated humanity. It hated everything.

Evidently, this thing had not expected to fight her. The swarm surged forwards along with two of her spiders, tearing the livid green eyes out, eating the strange cables...but it was taking far too long! What sort of material this robot was made of?

"Be careful!" She barked to the rest of the 4th Company on the radio. "They can come through the walls!"

The warning hadn't come too soon. Ten seconds later, smaller silver killer-automatons converged on their positions.

"For Fay and the Emperor!" An anonymous soldier shouted in the melee and the battle-cry was pronounced by hundreds of throats.

But the things attacking them did not die easily or painlessly. When she ruptured the source of energy of the big flying robot, it blew up. Thank whatever divinities of luck existed in this galaxy, her swarm had still been several hundred metres away from the vanguard of the 4th Company because the corridor was engulfed into green flames and for a moment Taylor was completely blind for this part of the battlefield. Whether it was due to instability or a self-destruct protocol, this explosion had killed her insects attacking the abomination.

"Get away from them!" The young Major ordered as two men tried to impale the robot with their bayonets. "They explode when they are too damaged to fight!"

The soldiers tried to withdraw while continuing to face the enemy but their death came from another direction as a last of the silver things appeared from the ground and slaughtered them with a green ray of doom.

One second, a human breathing, firing and fighting. The second after, he was a smoking skeleton, flayed of his flesh and his life. It was...awful.

She sacrificed another spider and two dozen razorbeetles to explode the eyes and every metallic part bathing in the green energy.

"COVER!" She commanded as the enemy fissured and disappeared into a green flash. Pleasant surprise, the shockwave and the damage was smaller and less intense. But for many of the men who had stood in the vanguard, it was too late. Over forty guards of the 4th Company had given their life...it was more than the double of their casualties in the entire Hive battle!

For the first time since they had entered Hive Asao, Taylor felt something unpleasant in her throat and her stomach. So far, the spiders and the razorbeetles had easily handled the Inquisition factions but this...nothing like these killer Terminator had been mentioned in the briefings. And her soldiers...many of them had died.

"Any ideas what were the things we just fought?" The former supervillain asked Commissar Zuhev, who looked so immaculate and fresh that it was difficult to believe he had just emptied three laser cells of his laspistol in one enemy's head.

"Judging by the absence of reports and the earthquake we noticed earlier...I think this must be the guardians of the Vault of Infinity."

"Great." When she caught Lankovar, she and the Magos were really going to have a conversation about NOT running into lethal battlefields like this one. Just before she forced him to pay pensions for all the troopers his stupidity had killed. "The Mechanicus is so going to owe us when we save their cog-skins."


Inquisitor Colin Steadham

If they survived this adventure, Colin Steadham figured he would have to change the operational training of his Acolytes. They really got tired too quickly. Well, they died fast too, but he was unable to resurrect the dead thus nothing could be achieved on that front.

"My Lord...we seem...to have escaped...the abominations." Gasped the last representative of these men and women following him in service of the Ordos. Despite being in the prime of his youth – somewhere around twenty-four Terran years old – the signs were clear his red-haired subordinate had avoided the training rooms aboard the Light of Intolerance.

Correction: they really got tired too quickly and had the tendency to make poor judgements while they were exhausted.

"You make dangerous assumptions...Acolyte." He had really wanted to say something else but insulting your support was sure to backfire terribly at the first clash. "These horrors are unable to think by themselves, but they have a mobility we can't match."

Images of the second wave of automatons pursuing them through the walls were particularly vivid in his head. He had seen many horrors in his life, the job of an Inquisitor was hardly a pleasant opportunity to meet ancient friends in expensive ballrooms. But the abilities of these enemies...if he had not known better Colin Steadham would have labelled them as sorcery and witchcraft worthy of Exterminatus.

"Yes, my Lord but surely the troops of the traitorous Inquisitor Stradivarik must have attracted the attention of these things?" The respiration of the Acolyte was getting better, and the same was true of the three Tarellians that had followed them.

"Perhaps." His former colleague hadn't hired subtle followers to track him. "But until we have more evidence, I think it safer to assume we are not out of danger."

His eyes examined the cold environment they were surrounded with. A large hall with twenty-two series of columns all decorated with these weird green symbols. A few were pulsing with a sort of green energy shield, while many others appeared lifeless and damaged. The rest of the walls, the ground and the ceiling were the same cold grey-silver they had walked upon the entire length of the complex.

"It is quite obvious all information we managed to get on the Vault of Infinity are a fabrication at best, a great disinformation to trap and kill us at worst." The admission was painful but with only an Acolyte and three xenos with him, it was not as humiliating to say in front of a full Conclave of the Ordos Nyx. "These abominations represent a dire threat to His Most Holy Majesty's domain and must be defeated at once. We are going to go back to the surface and I will muster an army in the name of the Inquisition."

The mercenaries and the Acolytes nodded unanimously. It was good, because Colin Steadham had no idea where they were in this enemy fortress and how to find an exit.

"We advance and we overcome in His Name." The Inquisitor murmured.

The crossing of this xenos hall went without incident and the little group continued, one Tarellian leading up front and the two other closing the march. Human and xenos had all their personal weapons drawn and ready to fire...but the halls they crossed were deathly silent.

It was difficult to tell if they were going in the desired direction. All the halls they were discovering were similar. It was only the damage a lot of the columns, pillars and xenos scripts which allowed him to tell they were not walking in a full circle.

And the entire fortress had been severely damaged, the Radical Inquisitor was forced to acknowledge. Several corridors which should have provided alternate paths were buried under tons of rubble. Things that should have coursed with mega joules of energy were cold and lifeless, indicating a lack of maintenance or something more sinister. Twice the Tarellian marching ahead barked a warning and stepped back as great fissures appeared on great silver stairs.

The place was old and falling apart. Maybe it had also been pillaged in the last millennia. It certainly wasn't impossible, given that this construction appeared to predate the first time Man set foot on Wuhan Secundus.

The corridors, the halls and the various paths were disorientating. It didn't feel like corruption...but it didn't feel normal. Some archways looked they ignored the law of physics, a few stairs felt like they were descending but the efforts to climb them showed their mortal eyes could not be trusted. And they hadn't seen a plan or anything which could serve this function. Estimating the time they had passed walking and searching their way was an exercise in futility. His Inquisitorial chronometer – a marvel of engineering given to him by the Lord Governor of the Vidar Sector in person – was erratic and at several moments indicated three days had passed before announcing they had just spent minus ten minutes inside these ruins! It was maddening. Not only the laws of physics didn't apply to this place, it seemed time had also decided to ignore this xenos lair.

"My Lord?"

"Yes?"

"I saw some insects in this corridor to our right." Inquisitor Colin Steadham turned his head in that direction but the zone was in the shadows and his eyes were not augmented.

"Are you sure?" There had been no trace of anything organic save what they had brought with them. The killer-automatons were all built in a material the Mechanicus would damn itself twenty times to bring back to Mars...and everything they had seen until now was formed of various xenos metals and supraconductors components. Insects were not much, but it was perhaps a sign the exit was not far.

The Acolyte took first position, Steadham was following close and the three Tarellians formed the rear-guard this time. After twenty seconds of progression, the Inquisitor was forced to recognise his subordinate had indeed seen insects. A pity they weren't living.

"The xenos weren't content to build metal automatons...they built insects of the same colour too."

An impressive colony of scarabs – at least they looked like scarabs – was flowing on the ground and converging near them. For a second or two he evaluated the risk they were going to attack, but this danger didn't materialise. The insects were all going in the direction of a gigantic gate not unlike the first one they had exploded with melta charges.

"My Lord, I have a bad feeling..." Whined the Acolyte.

"Silence." Ordered his Master, but inside Colin Steadham wasn't exactly confident. What was beyond this gate to attract metallic constructs? The closer they came, the more the silver gate looked impressive...and ruined.

Where his party had blown away one hole into the outer gate, this one had been pierced in no less than three places, these holes allowing the scarabs to ignore the obstacle. This wasn't the only difference, however. Until this point, doors, throne room, gates and walls had been almost devoid of decoration, with the exception of these green symbols carved anyway. But this one was richly decorated and was representing a scene of...battle.

Disappointing but not unexpected, a good part of the gold inscriptions and the precious metals which had been used as decoration had been seriously damaged. The traces of rust were surprisingly absent – another temporal anomaly no doubt – but here and there a few scenes could be deciphered. One represented long-eared xenos that could be none other than the perfidious Eldar – Colin saw with amusement the artist had perfectly described the sheer arrogance of the xenos. The second was describing the silver automatons they had just escaped from. By the looks of things, they were in the middle of their equivalent for a triumph. And the third...the third showed a silver entity half-scarab half-humanoid. Its appearance looked...wrong. The Inquisitor of the Ordos Xenos was not a psyker, but the simple gravure of this entity was emanating a feeling of hate and dread.

Before he could give a counter-order, his Acolyte has went though one of the holes and emerged on the other side.

"My Lord...there is a sort of cube here!"

"A cube?" Steadham frowned. The more they explored, the less this strange bastion made any sense at all.

But when he emerged on the other side, the reality of the words sunk in. It was indeed a black cube...although the term did not do it justice. There were mini-cubes of multiple colours enjoyed by the nobility of several Imperial worlds to amuse themselves in challenges of logic and rapidity. This 'cube' however, was the size of a battle-tank.

And it was suspended in the air by nothing but a sort of force-field of green energy.

"My Lord...the scarabs!"

The silver insects were escalading the walls by their thousands and once they had reached a sufficient altitude, they were throwing themselves at the mysterious black cube. Many were crushed by the green energy shield, but these scarabs had evidently the same repair properties of the larger automatons.

How long has this activity been happening? Decades, hundreds of years? But the army of small silver insects had done its task well. On certain surface of the cube, silver thrills of energy were coalescing, as the cube was partially cracked.

"It's not a cube." The realisation made him shiver. "It is a prison." Now he understood why this part of this fortress had been so derelict and abandoned. It had been deliberate; a feat of engineering put in place to make sure no one would find this room until it was too late. And it was too late, the scarabs had done too much damage.

"We should have never come here." He declared, trying to keep his calm and wondering what sort of heavy weapons he could use to destroy this entire place. "This prison...this Vault of Infinity should not have been opened. Let's get out of here. I will send a message to the nearest Deathwatch fortress, they will have corrosive substances able to deal with this xenos infection..."

No...I am Endless.

The sheer power of this sentence hurt. A deep irrational sense of fear troubled his thoughts. Debris of the cube fell to the ground...the green energy of the shield flickered but held. How long this would continue to be the case, Steadham had no idea and he was not ready to bet on it.

"We evacuate. We must bring back news of this thing to the Inquisition in the name of the God-Emperor."

And as they ran out of the breached gate, Inquisitor Colin Steadham prayed for the cube to last a little bit longer.


Sergeant Gavreel Forcas

According to the teachings his instructors had put in his head when he had been inducted in the ranks of the Astartes, two sayings seemed particularly appropriate at this moment. First, no plan survived contact with the enemy. Secondly, wherever you found an abandoned ruin, there was a high probability you were going to meet Mechanicus forces investigating what should not be investigated.

"FOR THE EMPEROR AND THE FIRST!"

"THE QUEST OF KNOWLEDGE NEVER ENDS!"

"THE GOD-EMPEROR PROTECTS!"

One Astartes –that was him – a contingent of the Mechanicus cybernetic warriors and a band of fanatics the Emperor would have terminated in an instant if he had become of this mindless idolatry. None had many reasons to trust the other, but circumstances had forced them together.

Minutes ago, the Sergeant of the Calibanite Defence Force would have said this was impossible. But minutes ago, he had not been facing mindless automata bent on wiping them out.

"The Abominable Intelligence must be destroyed!" Snarled the leading Mechanicus man, using a very big plasma gun to tear apart the head of the closest abomination. The power of the shot could have fallen one of the Great Beasts of his homeworld. Against this metallic opponent however, the amount of destruction inflicted was not enough. The automaton phased out in a flash of green, but Gavreel had had his transhuman eyes fixed on the thing. The repair procedures had already begun.

This was...less than optimal. Despite his efforts to save the ammunition, his bolter had no shells anymore to fire, leaving him only the Sword of Perseverance to slay these enemies. It was better than nothing, but the Dark Angel legionary would have preferred something more powerful and long-ranged.

Mindless the enemy may be, but these green-ray guns were incredibly dangerous. Gavreel had seen many of the so-called 'Inquisitorial elite' next to him be butchered by these flayer-guns. He had really no intention to verify if the reinforced ceramite would hold against a molecular-breaker weapon able to liquefy flesh and bones. Two more silver enemies went down as he slew them with his power sword. With them this entire wave had been disassembled...but his ears told him a new wave was coming –the same enemies for all he knew.

"We can't stay here, Magos." Granted the cogboy had not given him his rank, but the rapacious attitude of Mars concerning unknown technology did not seem to have changed a great deal. Perhaps their ranks hadn't too.

"Affirmative." The voice did his best to sound a bit mortal, but Astartes ears were far better than those of an unaugmented human. He knew the emotions were generated by a voice modulator, leaving him wonder what sort of modifications had occurred behind this seemingly normal face. "Suggested course of action?"

"We must withdraw to a more advantageous position in the tunnels." Declared the Legionary. They were in this large and cold throne room, offering no cover at all and plenty of space for their enemies to laminate them with these green rays. Had thirty or forty Astartes been present with the appropriate support –plasma and volkite weapons for example – they would have prevailed. But the guns of the Mechanicus and his sword were the only weapons they had to damage these automatons.

"No!" The snarl came from the so-called 'Inquisitor'. Morgaur Stradivarik, this brainless and bloodthirsty piece of humanity had presented itself. Tall for a mortal – roughly two metres in height – his hairs had been curt short and there was a nasty scar on his left jaw. Apart from these facial characteristics, the fanatic held a chainsword in his two hands and his white clothes were literally strained with blood. By the Lion's sword, who went to war in white with robes impossible to clean?

"We must hold! The God-Emperor will grant us victory!" The survivor of Caliban had to resist the sudden urge of dirtying his sword with this cretin's blood. "With an Angel of Death to our side, we can't be defeated!" It was a good thing Gavreel wore his helmet, because his expression of anger was not pretty to see. That was it? An imbecilic belief that in the end, the Emperor was going to lead them to victory? What about proper tactics based on firepower and the judicious application of existing strength?

Just as the last words of this fanatic were uttered, the new wave of automatons came in, their lifeless eyes flashing in green light and their weapons ready to dispense death. Two members of Stradivarik charged, screaming things that made absolutely no sense, and were immediately slaughtered by over thirty concentrated green rays when they were ten metres away from their targets.

"In the name of the Omnissiah, return to oblivion!" The Skitarii opened fire in a coordinated salvo, shredding pieces of metal, distorting the deathless formation and removing from this reality nearly the entirety of the first line. But like before, the advance continued unabated. This had to be a failure in their programming, these xenos guns were far longer-ranged than the plasma rifles of the Mechanicus...and yet they progressed without returning fire.

It was worth to note that all this time, the so-called 'Inquisitorial elite' was firing blindly at the enemy in manners which worked very well in holographic space operas, but far less in real conditions.

Not bothering with a warning, the Sergeant Astartes grabbed one of the worst shooters and used it to intercept a flayer blast as he sprinted towards the enemy. By the time he arrived in contact, there was only a burning skeleton left but this fanatic had been useful for once in his life.

"For the Throne of Terra!" He shouted, launching a formidable thrust in the silver ranks that sent four robots of the second rank in the remaining abominations, disorganising completely their lines. The cohorts of Mars profited from the opportunity to pick the enemy one by one. They were winning...too bad he couldn't use these weird guns bursting with green energy. They looked incredibly useful, far more advanced from M30 tech...but they were also gene-coded and refusing to fire when he pressed the trigger. Oh, and a self-destruction code was activated at the third attempt. It made good improvised grenades, if it was any consolation.

The automatons were killing many humans anyway, but it was clear this wave would not be their doom and-

"By the Motor Force! They are coming out of the walls!" The exclamation was the only thing that saved him. He rolled to the ground while removing the weapon arm of the last enemy, just as three blasts of green struck the place he had fought a second before. In the case of a shot, he had not been fast enough and the nearly-miss was enough to give an ugly green trace...fortunately the colour of the Dark Angel Legion was black. It wouldn't be noticeable.

"Pattern Cyclades! Rapid fire, eliminate the enemies of the Omnissiah!" The Magos ordered. Gavreel slammed into the new arrivals, destroying ten in as many seconds but it was not the easy victory the first automatons had represented.

These new automatons were taller, armed with big guns and sported a new set of colours. Whereas the first ones were close to one metre and seventy-five centimetres tall, those were close to two metres. There were not silver, but a greyish-black. Their guns were still lighted green, but they were the double the size of their lesser 'cousins'. But the frightening thing was the rapidity and the initiative. By the looks of things and the terrible way, they were looking at the human group, these automatons were certainly not mindless.

They were inferior to him, yes. But they were certainly not inferior to the Skitarii and the rest of the fanatics in rags. As he cut one of the dark robots in the legs, he watched two warriors of the Mechanicus be disintegrated and five Inquisitorial imbeciles transform themselves into torches.

Morale was failing and thus Gavreel Forcas did what he hated the most: giving a vibrant battle-speech.

"SMASH THESE ABOMINATIONS! FOR THE EMPEROR! KILL THE XENOS! DESTROY THE XENOS!"

But his efforts were in vain. These black automatons were scaring the morals far more than one of the Emperor's Chosen. And given that they were coming out of nowhere, the men who tried to flee were immediately cut down by self-repairing automatons.

Second per second, the number of living decreased at an alarming rate. A shot grazed his leg, lighting an alarm in his helmet and the Dark Angel of Caliban gritted his teeth in hate. He could not die! Not like that, killed under the earth with his gene-seed non-harvested and his deeds forgotten!

But they were few to remain standing as the circle of silver and onyx closed. The Magos, the Inquisitor and five Skitarii were fighting for their lives and-

"What in the name of the Emperor is that?"

The metallic enemies situated on the side he had come from came under assault without any warning. Once instant, there was nothing. The second after, an angry swarm surged at the automatons and began to tear them apart. And they weren't alone. Following the flying mass of chitin the gigantic spiders which had left him such a memorable experience in the sewers rushed in the melee.

Whatever programming these abominations had in their data-bases, it had not been updated to face situations like this. In the time it took the Astartes to destroy two more enemies, all the elite black automatons exploded though they took two spiders and plenty of other insects with them when they flashed out.

Silence. Deep Silence. For the first time, the Sergeant stayed honestly open-mouthed in shock. Their enemies had just been pulverised. The giant spiders and the swarm of insects left were waiting patiently, their destructive task accomplished. And his stupefaction was not lessened when seconds later the Magos spoke to the swarm.

"Your timing was impeccable, Major Hebert."

It was ridiculous...and then the buzzing creatures coalesced in a humanoid shape.

"You are welcome, Magos Lankovar." It was ingenious, the stunned mind of the Astartes had to admit. The insects were producing noise on different frequencies, giving the illusion a human spoke in front of them. "My troops will be here in two minutes. Perhaps you should try not to go explore without a proper escort next time."

"Ah...yes." It was virtually impossible, but Gavreel would swear in the days afterwards he heard contrition in the Magos' voice. Then the insects returned to a more natural state.

"This is heresy!" For a moment, both Mechanicus and Dark Angel representatives had more or less ignored the Inquisitor. It appeared to have been an error. Stradivarik was literally spitting such was his fury. Each word was also given more weight with menacing moves of his chainsword. "You consort with forces-"

This was as far as he got before one of the Skitarii smashed the butt of his plasma rifle in his neck.

"Why didn't you kill him?" Asked the Space Marine. This fanatic really deserved the death and keeping a prisoner in this danger-ridden battlefield was too risky, in his opinion.

"It would be a waste of ammunition."


Major Taylor Hebert

Taylor had seen the statues before the gates leading to the Hall of Glory, of course. They had been very big and outrageously decorated – like most of the things in this part of the Hive-capital. At the time, she had assumed these decorations were one more level of propaganda atop the rest. These marble sculptures were supposed to glorify the God-Emperor's Space Marines, the elite defenders of humanity. They were called Angelica Mortis in High Gothic, the weird hybrid of Latin which had become a very upper-class language in the Imperium. The translation was not difficult to make: the Angels of Death.

Yet when she had had asked information about these formidable warriors to Colonel Larkine and Commissar Zuhev, the two had been unable to tell her how much was boasting for the vids-captures and how much was reality. It was rumoured on the military vox-nets that there had been an intervention in the Calypso System which was supported by these mythical warriors. But neither the Fay 20th nor for that matter any Fay personnel had seen it. Indeed, none of the Guard and PDF regiments on Wuhan had met a Space Marine in their lives.

In hindsight, she should have asked Magos Desmerius Lankovar first...although no one had suggested they would find a Space Marine fighting in the dreary grey and silver alien construction under Hive Asao!

When she watched the armoured shape for the first time while destroying right and left the killer-robots threatening the Mechanicus detachment, the bug-controller had thought her insects' senses were somehow altered.

But no. There was indeed a Space Marine fighting side to side with the cyborgs of the Mechanicus...and he was as monumental as propaganda and the statues had made it.

Taylor had met and fought Lung twice. She had participated in two Endbringer fights, several gang wars in Brockton Bay – or the same war depending on the perspective – but there was something humbling facing this armoured figure.

The Space Marine was over two metres and fifty centimetres tall. Its armour was largely black though the emblem on its chest – a large sword encircled by a halo and wings - was silver and the one on its shoulder was red. There were a few other markings but on the whole from head to toe the armour proclaimed this was a warrior you really, really wanted on your side and not on the enemy's.

The weapons it held only supported this affirmation. Weaver had already seen heavy bolters fixed on the top of the regiment's Chimeras thus it wasn't difficult to recognise a portable gun of the same family hanging to the giant's belt. The recoil had to be monstrous when fired...she was sure that if she tried to wield this kind of weapon, the recoil would tear her arms apart. But the blade surpassed it easily. Having made the distinction between the chainsword issued to all officers and the power swords few could afford to wield, the parahuman teenage girl recognised this weapon as the latter. It was a work of beauty and death, the pommel and the guard of the blade being exquisitely fashioned...and it had suffered no damage whatsoever from hours of battle.

This was when the Space Marine was immobile and viewed from the sight of insects. In person and when it moved...it moved with fluidity and a speed that was...awesome. For the record, it was only walking. But it emanated power, confidence and something that she didn't manage to really describe.

She had met the Triumvirate in briefings and battles, but this gigantic soldier was something else. The red lenses were piercing your soul. Each of its moves was deliberate and implacable, showing how easy it could crush your head like a normal human crushed an egg. After three seconds of hesitation, she managed to find the words to present herself.

"Major Taylor Hebert of the Fay 20th Mechanised Infantry of the Guard." She sincerely hoped her nervousness and the weakness in her voice had not been too evident...well, at least she was not in the same state the boys and girls of the two companies following her.

Half of them had bents their knees and were at the very limit of prostrating themselves on the cold hard ground. The remaining of her command troops were staring with their mouths wide open like idiots.

"Sergeant Gavreel Forcas, Dark Angel Legion." The voice which came out of the speakers on each side of the helmet was powerful and the very image one expected from such a terrible fighter: fearless, redoubtable. "Thank for your assistance, Major."

"Err...thanks." What do you say in such a situation, by the Simurgh? "We did only our duty..."

The Sergeant Space Marine chuckled. It was not an unpleasant sound; it was like a great tree was trying to laugh while caught in blasts of winds. "You did a bit more than that." The threatening black helmet turned in direction of the giant spiders under her control. "We never thought about weaponizing insects, I admit."

"People always underestimate bugs." The former supervillain was well aware she was blushing and some of the soldiers behind her were snickering, well that would not do. "Back into formation everyone! I want a correct defence of the perimeter before we evacuate!"

Captains Baltomin and Sevrev saluted and started shouting orders to reform the fighting companies in proper formation. For a potential fighting against the automatons, this was a very loose one, with each soldiers separated from its neighbours by at least a metre. Firepower was good, but these green-lit weapons were completely insane. No armour, no wall, no technology was able to stop them...it was better to avoid with the maximum of mobility and retaliate.

"Evacuate?" By his expression and his tone, the Magos was apparently bewildered someone didn't want to remain in this horrid and cold place. "In our moment of triumph? But I haven't found the Vault of Infinity and took samples from these fascinating technologies!"

The young Major repeated ten times in her head that she could not scream at the being manufacturing all her equipment before opening her mouth again.

"Magos. We can't stay here. The 4th and 2nd Companies have lost eighty-one men in the skirmishes against these horrors, thirty of them severely wounded and fifty-one killed. You have lost most of your escort. When the enemy comes back –and it will, make no mistake – we will not been able to endure a full-blown assault without heavy losses. I have exactly nine hundred and seventeen men here and my swarm has received heavy losses; this is not enough to fight these machines of murder. The more we destroy them, the more they repair and come back."

"You want your entire regiment to deal with them?" The enunciation of her losses, good men and good women having given their life in the Guard's service, did not appear to trouble a lot Lankovar. Seriously had all Mechanicus personnel learnt to get rid of their emotions for the love of technology?

"Ideally I want the entire Wuhan PDF and all the Guard regiments in a circle of twenty light-years." She replied frankly. "They are not well trained but at least we would have a lot of guns-"

The second of the Fay 20th had not the opportunity to tell Desmerius Lankovar that his stupidity was getting all of them killed if his behaviour didn't change.

From about fifty metres on their left, two humans and three of the bipedal crocodiles ran out, expressions of terror on their faces that could not be possibly simulated. And while the 'Tarellian Dog-Soldiers' were not very recognisable, one of the two humans was. This was one of the two wayward Inquisitors...and the Magos Explorator had already neutralised one. Perhaps this wasn't going to be a bad day after all.

"Run!" Screamed the man who had presented himself as Inquisitor Colin Steadham to the Wuhanese authorities. "Flee, you fools!"

This was...the wrong thing to say. Taylor had not exactly been short on details when she had explained the reasons they were assaulting Hive Asao...the Fay guardsmen knew exactly who was to blame for the current disaster. As a result, over eight hundred guns were directly pointed at the five newcomers.

"Colin Steadham or whoever your name is." Began Captain Tanya Sevrev, a very vindictive smile on her lips. "You are under arrest! Throw down your weapons and surrender!"

"We have not the time for this idiocy!" Barked the man, more agitated than ever and not showing a sign to disarm. "We must-"

This was the moment the orchestra started to play. It started with grave notes, before rising and rising like a classical symphony. It was sonorous and vibrant, like one of those songs the film is playing before the great battle is about to begin.

A few privates clapped their hands and cheered, but the stern expression of Zuhev and his subordinate Commissar stopped them immediately. The music continued however and then they came out of the dark in neat phalanxes.

They were hundreds of them this time. Ranks upon ranks of robots, and this time these were not models who looked they had spent thousands of years rusting in a dusty vault. No, these ones were light silver in colour, the green energy of their weapons shone malevolently and the way they turned their head showed these futurist version of Terminator were not suffering from bugs in their programming. And the symbols on the equivalent of their chests were not identical to those they fought earlier. And when at about thirty metres from the first lines, they stopped.

This was bad. Watching rapidly with her bugs, the parahuman rapidly estimated she had a minor advantage in numbers but in firepower, this new enemy force outmatched them completely. Why hadn't they already fired in fact? They had had the advantage of surprise, there was no reason to squander it for music and giggles...

It was at the moment of the crescendo that another robot made its entrance. This one was wearing...well a uniform. Sort of. The being was forged in the same silver, but it had a sort of headgear that had an Egyptian theme and a sort of a parade armour richly decorated in emeralds and gold. Strangely, the late arrival had no gun or anything looking like a weapon in his hands. Instead he had a sort of slate which was roughly the size of one the Tablets of Stones from the Bible.

"Behold!" Declaimed the metallic creature. To Taylor and the rest of the audience astonishment, the word had been pronounced in a flawless Low Gothic. "He is the Victorious Hero of Txalataq, the Strategist of Firan, the Survivor of Hierek! He fought no less than three hundred and forty thousand battles in the War in Heaven! He defeated three mighty hosts of Aeldari at the Great Triumph of Sorolak! He is the Supreme Overlord of Solemnace and commander of six hundred millions Necrontyr warriors!

It was good she needed her hands to hold her lasgun because otherwise Taylor would have face-palmed. What the hell? Like in a royal court, the leader of these robots was preceded by a herald?

The first part of the litany had been the sort of exploits conquerors were all quite happy to admit. But as the minutes passed, it got...weirder.

"He acquired the Jewel of the Aeldari Princess Kaliel in the heart of the Taclir Heartshrine! He administered six Core Worlds and used their resources to collect the Sunburst Cannons of Loc! He owns the Core of Yatekh and the Crown of the Charnovokh Dynasty!"

Was the robot's master a thief? Because from the uncountable clues disseminated in this speech, it seemed to be the case. In all honesty, Taylor was not going to throw stones: after all, her first action as a member of the Undersiders had been to rob a bank. It would be a little hypocritical to judge.

On the other hand, she hadn't gone face to face with the bank owners and unmasked to let them know exactly who had robbed them.

It was as the heralds finished his interminable speech that she felt them. They were insects in her range...and yet while she took control of them after a sort of...resistance, she couldn't see them. At best when she ordered them to coalesce around one of her fingers, the bug-controller could see a faint shiver in the air. These insects were microscopic...what had these silver aliens tried to do?

"He is relentless in his quest for the rarest objects of this galaxy! He is Trazyn the Infinite Collector!"

Just as the last word was uttered, a new music resonated in the empty throne room and at last the commander of the robots made its entry. It was another of these silver Terminator-things, but greater in size and far more richly clothed. His cuirass was of gold, green and violet. On his shoulders was posed a great cape of violet ornamented with feathers of silver. In his right hand was a sceptre full of sapphires and emeralds.

"Welcome to Vatalek, Coreworld of the Horth Dynasty!" Exclaimed the chief of the machine army, like they were not facing each other ready for war. "It is rare to have so many visitors, but don't worry I promise you the reception will be to your tastes!"

If most of the audience didn't know how to answer, it was the Inquisitor –almost forgotten in the confusion – who spoke.

"You are an abomination!"

"This is not a very nice thing to say." The creature which had been presented as Trazyn replied. "And here I was...where is this book? Ah, yes." The stupefaction of the guardsmen and guardswomen was total as the machine extracted a copy of the Imperial Infantryman Uplifting's Primer from a mini-green cube. "I come in peace!"

The silver head turned comically over the pages of the useless propaganda book. "This is how we are supposed to introduce ourselves, no?"

"In the name of the Lion, what are you?" Roared the Space Marine, who had apparently run out of patience.

A terrible earthquake was the answer. For a second or two Taylor feared it had been a trap all along but the Necrons were similarly thrown off balance.

"I warned you!" Steadham screamed like a madman. "I warned you!"

The vibrations of the floor went out of control. Standing on your own was getting incredibly difficult. It was approximately twenty seconds after this that the throne at the other extremity of the hall exploded in big fragments. From the hole thus created, floated a silver humanoid thing.

They were maybe a kilometre away from this thing, but she had no wish to come closer. Silver streaks of lightning were projected, and a sort of metallic carpet was moving under it as it moved.

"Damn this Cryptek!" Groused Trazyn. "I knew he had sabotaged the complex but to this point..."

Trazyn! Betrayer!

The creature had not spoken conventionally, but Taylor had heard it nonetheless and so had the regiment. What was that? Telepathy? And the hate...if the first machines they had met were full of hate, these were mere tantrums compared to the feelings of loathing this flying thing was giving.

Judging the best way to have an answer was to ask, the exiled from Earth Bet addressed the megalomaniac robot.

"What is this thing?"

"That, dear human, is the shard of a C'Tan." The last word was pronounced in an aggressive and distasteful manner.

"In your limited language, you would translate it as Star God."

The violet cape moved slightly and for the first time the voice of the silver machine had hints of fear.

"This is Iash'uddra. The Endless Swarm."