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into the twisted surgeon’s face。 The eldar was unconcerned； and wiped its face with the back of one
hand。
“The dark gods of Chaos will feast on your soul come the end；” said Marduk。 “You are already
lost； you just don’t know it yet。”
The eldar straightened； dead eyes fixing on Marduk。 It ghosted across the floor to stand before
him。
“In the end we are all lost；” it said； lifting a bladed fingertip to Marduk’s cheek。
The First Acolyte did not flinch beneath its touch； though he felt hot blood running down his
face。 Instead； he grinned； his blazing eyes holding the eldar’s gaze。
“Your time will come sooner than you think；” he said。
“That is your prediction？ You are a prophet then； human？”
“I am far beyond humanity。 I am Marduk； First Acolyte of the 34th Grand Host of the XVII
Legion； the Word Bearers； blessed of Lorgar。 I make no predictions； xenos filth。 I make you a
promise。”
Marduk’s eyes rolled back into his head as he sought to draw the power of the warp into his
body； to call the daemons of the immaterium to him and unleash their fury upon this wretch that
dared to defile the sacred forms of Lorgar’s angels of the Word… but nothing happened。 Silence
and emptiness was all that greeted him； vast； cold and empty； and he screamed his fury。
Marduk tried to fly free of his mortal body； to rise above his earthly shell and become as one
with the blessed ether； but it felt as if shackles held him locked into his body； imprisoning him
within the cage of his flesh。
Had the gods of the ether forsaken him？ Had they withdrawn their favour from him？ The
thought was more terrifying than any pain or horror that this being could ever heap upon him。
The eldar sneered at him； dead eyes watching him with keen interest。
“You can bring none of your taint here； slave；” it said； its voice mocking。 “Your gods have
turned their backs on you。”
Marduk gritted his teeth and threw himself forward； muscles straining as he sought to rip the
eldar limb from limb； but he was jerked backwards。 The bladed limbs that impaled him hauled him
back； and shooting pain blossomed up his spine。
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Marduk thrashed and roared； and fresh blood began to run from his wounds as he fought to tear
himself loose。 The eldar merely gave a dry； cruel laugh； and turned away from him； and Marduk
stared venomously at the retreating figure as it strode from the room； parting the hanging partition
with a wave of its hand。
You can bring none of your taint here； slave； his captor had said； and Marduk could well believe
the truth in the words。 The feeling of isolation was staggering。
Did a null…field containment force keep his link with the warp at bay？ Or had the gods truly
forsaken him？
He had experienced a similar sensation of being cut off from the powers that be； once before；
deep within the xenos pyramid on the Imperial world of Tanakreg； in that hellish otherworld that
was not truly part of the material universe； but something else entirely。 He had experienced a similar
sensation there； and there he had won out； defeating his former master and escaping with his prize。
Escaping？ The doubt came unbidden to his mind。 Had he truly escaped？ Or had he merely been
allowed to escape？ Surely such a being as powerful as the Undying One would never had allowed
him to flee its realm had it not wished it to be so。
“My lord；” said a cracked voice； and Marduk glanced over towards the mutilated figure of
Sarondel； stretched backwards upon the surgeon’s slab； his chest ripped open。 The monstrous spider
creature was still poised over him； and it sprayed a liquid film over the exposed organs from the tip
of its vile； bulbous； segmented abdomen。
“The gods… have they deserted us？” breathed Sarondel； echoing Marduk’s thoughts。 “I cannot
feel their touch。”
“Speak not such heresies；” growled Marduk。 “This is a test of our faith。 The xenos filth will be
punished for what they have done to you； brother。 I promise you that。”
Sarondel groaned something indecipherable in response； and Marduk strained again to pull his
limbs from the spikes impaling them。 His efforts were hopeless。 His muscles bulged with all his
hyper…enhanced strength； but he was powerless against the slender blades that held his crucified
form。
What if the gods had deserted them； thought Marduk with a stab of terror？
Silence such thoughts； Marduk raged。 Such doubts are poison。 Fortify your soul； he reminded
himself； your faith will be rewarded。
Patience； he told himself。
His time would come； and he would be ready。
“You left him behind；” said Burias flatly； his eyes glinting dangerously。
“Am I going to have a problem with you； Burias？” growled Kol Badar。
Burias pursed his lips； not taking his eyes off the Coryphaus。 He took a deep breath； repressing
his violent urge to leap across the shuttle cabin and tear the older warrior’s head from his shoulders。
He had always fought at Marduk’s side。 Even as an acolyte； Burias had recognised that Marduk
was destined for great things； and he was honest enough to admit that that he had befriended him in
the hope that he would be dragged up the chain of command with him。 Burias had never made any
secret of this fact； and he had enjoyed the success he had achieved； and the privilege he had gained；
as Marduk had risen to First Acolyte。 With Jarulek dead and gone； it was surely just a formality
before Marduk became a Dark Apostle； and then Burias’s position would become even more
influential。 He was Marduk’s confidant； his brother； his friend； and he would have had the ear of a
Dark Apostle at his disposal。
In one swift； opportunistic move； Kol Badar had eliminated that future； and for that Burias
would dearly love to rip his hearts from his chest。
“You think he is dead？” asked Burias in a low voice。
“He’s gone；” said Kol Badar。 “The dark eldar took him。 There is no coming back。”
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Burias scowled； all his years of comradeship with Marduk； wasted。 Once again； he let his eyes
roll back into his head and the deafening tumult that was the immaterium screamed into him。
Drak’shal had a bond with the First Acolyte； stronger than any bond between Burias and Marduk； a
bond of servitude； a bond of command。 It was； after all； Marduk who had first summoned Drak’shal
into the icon bearer’s flesh。
Drak’shal reached out at Burias’s urging； searching for Marduk’s soul…fire； for some hint of its
existence。 The daemon found nothing。 Of course； it would take days； weeks even； to properly scour
the turbulence of the empyrean； despite the bond the First Acolyte and the daemon shared； but a
shadow presence should have been simple to locate。 It was as if everything that Marduk was had
been snuffed out。 Slowly； Burias opened his eyes。
“He is truly gone；” he muttered in disbelief。
“As I said；” said Kol Badar。
This changed everything。 If Marduk truly was dead； and what other explanation could there be；
then Burias would have to quickly reassess his position。 Without the First Acolyte’s backing and
favour； his position within the Host was tenuous。 Kol Badar； as Coryphaus； was the most powerful
individual within the Host； and would； as protocol demanded； take over the leadership role。 Burias
would be foolish to take that lightly。 Without the First Acolyte to shield him； Kol Badar could do
with him as his wished with impunity。
“What of the Council？” asked Burias； his mind whirring。 “The life of a Coryphaus that has
allowed his Dark Apostle to die is a tenuous thing； but a Coryphaus that has allowed his Dark
Apostle and First Acolyte to fall？ You’ll be made to suffer； and I have no wish to fall with you。”
“Walk with me；” commanded the Coryphaus； releasing the harness clamping him into his seat；
and making his way towards the control cabin of the Idolator； fighting the angle of the ship’s assent
and the G…forces that pushed against his massive frame。 Clearly； Kol Badar wished to continue the
discussion out of the earshot of the other warrior brothers of the Host； which made Burias at once
both suspicious and intrigued。
Burias threw off his harness and stood up unsteadily。 Using the rail…holds above his head he
hauled himself hand over hand towards the front of the shuttle。 Once inside the control cabin； Kol
Badar punched a blister…rune and the hatch was sealed behind them。
The crew of the Idolator had long been fused with their controls； and what remained of their
flesh was covered in runes and sigils of binding。 They stared ahead with sightless eyes； their entire
existence dedicated to serving their infernal masters。 They would not repeat what words were
spoken in their presence even were they capable of speech。
“The Council need not know all the details；” said Kol Badar slowly； his eyes intense。
“They will need to be told something；” Burias hissed； “unless we do not return to Sicarus at all。”
“No； that is not an option。 No warrior of Lorgar has ever turned from the XVII Legion。 No； we
tell the Council the truth。”
“The truth？” asked Burias。
“Yes； that the Dark Apostle Jarulek was treacherously cut down by the traitor Marduk； who was
envious and covetous of his hallowed role；” said Kol Badar； “and that Marduk was subsequently
slain for his misdeed。�