So, this is it, huh?

The Voice seemed to penetrate the black, bringing him back to some semblance of consciousness. But the blackness still stayed ironclad.

'W-what?' he croaked out of a mouth he didn't know he had.

So, you're just giving up? Letting them take you away for whatever nefarious purpose of their horrible bastard of a boss?

It then dawned on him. 'You're that Voice. That Voice was in my head when I was lost in the darkness back on Omnartus. Why haven't I heard you until now?'

Nyeh, nyeh, nyeh! Yes, it's me, of course it's me! Who else?

'Hmm, I don't know, you could be Karmen, Faleaseen. I have a whole litany of voices that I hear in my mind. But they don't sound like me, in all honesty.'

Yeah, and why would they make themselves sound like you? No one would want to talk in your annoying nasally Voice!

'Ouch, man.'

Yeah, sorry, pushed it a bit too far, then, maybe. No! I frigging didn't, I'm pissed at you.

'Why?'

Why? Frigging why? I already told you why, you little fool!

He rolled the eyes he didn't know he had. 'Everyone has been calling me that lately.'

It's because it's true.

He sighed with the mouth he didn't know he had. 'Frig you. What can I do? They broke my spine. I can't move my legs...I'm crippled.'

Yeah, well, you've got to do something! Your bastard of a father murdered the girl you loved. He murdered your...former boss and is going to murder a hell of a lot more people you care about if you don't do anything.

'Voice, what's the frigging point, huh?' he sighed. 'Everything I do is...is just pointless! I fight, and I fight, and I fight, and I fight, and I fight, but it leads to nothing! Nothing! I fight through a zombie horde to save some Sisters of Battle, then get myself eaten alive, an utterly horrific way to die! So they can escape, but now they're all dead. My father, yet again, gets the better of me. Of all of us.'

Yeah, maybe. But it isn't over. You can't give up, but first, you have to wake up to do anything.

'I don't frigging want to,' said Attelus. 'I don't want to wake up back to the pain and agony again. That Rodyille bastard isn't carrying me carefully, and-'

The stupid bastards haven't taken your throwing knives from you! You have to wake up and do something, even if you try to make them talk and give something away! The Eldar are also coming, remember? You made Farseer Faleaseen promise they would finally fight with you. They could be here on Quoranda already. They could even be in the tunnels!

'Doubt it, or else Serghar would've used his knife to teleport back to where that "Throne" is already,' said Attelus. 'Etuarq can see frigging well into the future, remember? And even if I wake up and try to listen, they'll probably be talking to each other through their vox-links. I'm frigged, Voice. Utterly frigged. I'm defeated, utterly.'

Attelus blinked as the Voice let out a frustrated roar. Damn it, Attelus! How many situations most people have no chance of getting out of, that you have? There are too many to count.

'Yeah, but-'

What about the last time I spoke to you? You were in that sub-dimension of darkness paranoid about those monsters being in there with you? I got you to keep moving, and you managed to make your way out of there. Anyone else would've been lost and-

'That's different.'

What about your fight against the Greater Daemon of the Blood god?

'I only got out of that because my arsehole of a father and his...lackeys saved me. Then my team, Mr Voice.'

But you held your own! You managed to survive long enough for them to save you.

'I don't care any more. It means nothing now.'

The Voice sighed. You asked me why you haven't talked to me since back on Omnartus?

'I did.'

Because I only talk to you in your darkest moments.

'Literally or figuratively or both? If figuratively, you didn't help me break the control of the daemonic sword back on Omnartus.'

Because you didn't need me then, you broke that control all by yourself, didn't you? That's an almost impossible thing to do.

'I didn't do that by myself. I was fighting it, trying to take control back of my body as it slaughtered person after person, but it was like...trying to push my palms through a rockcrete wall! But when I saw I was about to kill Adelana...I...I...'

Tears well in Attelus' eyes. 'Only then did I manage it. I have no idea how, Voice.'

So if that is why you managed to break free from the control of a frigging daemonic blade, that's what could inspire you to find a way out of this! Think about her. Think about what could happen to her if you don't.

Attelus sighed. 'Shit. I guess I can't give up now, can I?'

Nope.

'But what can I possibly do?'

Don't know, but you'll find a way. Have faith in yourself.

'Yeah, whatever,' Attelus snapped as a light began to penetrate the darkness. 'Frigging useless Voice. If you're a symptom of my insanity, you should know I hold little stock in that grox shit.'

Hey, Attelus, I'm just a voice. Something you conjured up when you were a child. I've helped you before, Omnartus, you know that, right? Anyway, good luck.

'Yeah, now that's the understatement of the millennia,' said Attelus before waking up. 'Now, frig off.'

Attelus cried out as the pain from his shattered spine blasted back into his consciousness, and he writhed on Rodyille's shoulder as he walked. That caused the pain to become agony, and he began roaring. Then a fist crashed into his face so hard it jarred everything, and his roars fell into gasping. Tears welled in his eyes, and he internally cursed the Voice for making him wake up. He fought the urge to start sobbing; if he did, they'd probably just knock him unconscious. He also didn't want to give his father and his lackeys the pleasure.

'The little fool is awake,' said Serghar Kaltos, who was right in front of Attelus, his Voice so close it seemed they were almost face-to-face. 'How does it feel?'

Attelus didn't reply. He couldn't see much beyond his fringe, which coated his face and was plastered there by his sweat. He was glad about this; he didn't want to see his father's smug face and psychopathic, dead eyes ever again.

'Not just the pain, but the despair. Everything you've done has been proven pointless. You have lost.'

Attelus still stayed silent. He'd learned from that bitch, Glaitis, a long time ago that sometimes staying silent was better as it might make someone talk too much and give something away. He wanted to stab Serghar in the frigging face with a throwing knife like he did back on Sarkeath. But now wasn't the time. Serghar was likely prepared for such an attack, anyway.

Attelus clenched his jaw. Serghar-frigging-Kaltos, the worst bastard this side of the Calixis Sector, and he just so happened to be his father.

'Ahh, I saw that, boy,' said Serghar. 'You want to stab me with a throwing knife again, don't you? Do not be a fool, the only reason we allowed you to keep them is because we know we have the situation under control. We no longer need your cooperation.'

Attelus wanted to ask what that meant. He knew they needed him to get the Sword of Kalncerak back on Sarkeath so they could kill him with it...permanently, at least. So their master could use his body for something. Despite all the foresight and power Serghar's master displayed, he somehow didn't know how to kill a Perpetual. That might have something to do with "the Throne" Serghar mentioned. A throne? The Emperor sat on the Golden Throne of Earth, so could that have something to do with it?

The thought sent a shock so hard through Attelus that it caused his shattered spine to shoot hot pain into his bones, making him growl through gritted teeth. That had to be it! But that-

A palm slapped across his jaw so hard it almost dislocated it and made Attelus black out for a second.

'You are thinking,' said Serghar by way of explanation.

'W-what?' Attelus slurred, which invited another brutal slap.

'I said, you are thinking. I can tell. When did I give you permission to think, boy? You are not here to think or speak or anything.'

Attelus stayed silent.

'You must learn this, boy. You, like my agents, you are a tool. You were born and lived to be a pawn in my master's great plan and nothing more. So do not dare even think unless I give you permission, understood?'

I understand that you're a complete and utter, unmitigated, psychopathic arsehole.

Another slap. 'I asked you a question, boy. Answer me, or else I'll do so much worse than just slapping you.'

'U-understood.'

But then came another slap, and Serghar's claw-like fingers closed around Attelus' throat. It cut off his breath instantly; it was like Attelus' imagined the cold ceramite grasp of the Space Marine Kalakor's power armoured hand would be like.

'Understood, what?' said Serghar and Attelus could feel the spittle hit his face and soak his hair.

'U...understood, father,' Attelus gasped.

Serghar let him go.

Great, thanks, Voice. It's easy to say that encouraging shit when you're not in the one lodged so far in a corner you can't frigging breathe, thought Attelus.