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and Space Marines in the
rained cavalcade opened fire into the air； chasing the planes； churning the sky with bright； criss…crossed lines。
A Lightning swept by almost overhead； cutting to the left of the Spatian Gate。 Its strafing firepower explosively mangled hundreds of
people perilously close to me； showering me and the white stone of the Gate's side face with cooked blood。
Hundreds of batteries in the procession were now firing into the sky； the Hydras blitzing the air。 Even tanks were firing … out of anger；
I suppose； for they hadn't a hope in hell of hitting the fast…moving aircraft。
Yet something must have struck。 A second Lightning tilted as it passed over the Gate； tiny explosions shredding its left wing and tail
section。 It dove straight down into the Avenue itself。 It hit what seemed to me to be the heart of the Warmaster's section of the
Triumph。 The blast wake blew out across the wide roadway； killing as many with its concussive effects as with the impact fireball
itself。
The three remaining Lightnings banked again down over the far end of the Avenue and made for a third pass。 I was struck by the way
they didn't turn as a pack。 They flew individually； as if divorced from the world。 Were their pilots possessed； insane？ My mind span。
Two of them banked into each other and almost hit。 One didn't veer； and carried on up the Avenue； hungry for more carnage。 The
other was forced to swing wide； corrected； and turned over the wailing crowd mass to the west of the Avenue。
The third overshot and almost disappeared。 I saw it loop faraway； out over the river haze； its wings glinting in the sun。 Then it too
came back for us。 Like the others； straight back heedlessly into the teeth of the firestorms that the tanks； Hydras and infantry were
throwing up at them。
Several hundreds more died in that final ran。 Loyal citizens whose exciting day out had turned to horror； proud Guardsmen back from
the war； thinking only to enjoy this special hour of praise； mysterious Space Marines； who were there only because they had been
invited to be there； as an expression of honour； who perhaps greeted this death as just an alternative to their expected fate。 Imperial
nobles and dignitaries died in their hundreds。 Several noble households never recovered from the losses at the Triumph of Thracian。
The last three Lightnings fell in this manner。
One； crossing the Spatian Gate and beyond； was blown apart in an air…burst by tracking Hydras on the chaotic street。
A second flew the gauntlet of anti…air salvos without adjusting its height and then； struck by one of the guns almost as an afterthought；
turned upside down in a lazy yaw。 Streaming smoke； it tilted down towards the ground but exploded against the Monument of the
Ecclesiarch。
The third came in； guns chattering； and actually flew under the arch of the Spatian Gate。 By then； the Titans themselves had turned to
engage； and my guts convulsed with the subsonic roar of their weapons。 I could see them； three kilometres away； weapon mounts
pumping and flashing； high above the crowd。
Excekis Gaude； one of the Warlord Titans； caught it dead on； and killed it in the air； but not cleanly enough。 The tumbling Lightning；
ablaze from end to end； hit the immense Warlord Titan square on and decapitated the colossus as it exploded。
I was lost。 I was stupefied。 I was speechless。
I felt as if I should fall to my knees amid the tumult and beg the God…Emperor of Mankind for salvation。
But my part in this was only just beginning。
Pellucid blue flame； like a searing wall of acid； suddenly washed through the churning mob behind the Gate。 Men； women； soldiers；
civilians； were caught in it and shuddered； melting； resolving into skeletons that turned to dust and blew away。
I felt the pain in my sinuses； the throb in my spine。 I knew what it was。
Psyker…evil。 Raw Chaos； loosed on this world。
The prisoners were loose。
The warriors did not matter。 A vast pitched battle was already raging across the Avenue behind Spatian's broken Gate。 The Thracian
Guard； the Aurora Marines and the arbites were striving to contain the outbreak of enemy prisoners； many of whom had taken the
opportunity to break free and grab weapons。 A ferocious； point…blank war had seized the great approach。
But what concerned me were the psykers。 The captured heretics。 The thirty…three。 They had broken free。
I drew my power sword and my boltgun； plunging into the milling bodies； crunching over the calcified bones of those slaughtered by
the psychic wave。
An inhuman thing； a Chaos prisoner； leapt at me； and I struck its head off with my blade。 I leapt over a dead Marine； who was leaking
blood onto the rockcrete from splits in his imperator armour； and pushed through the howling civilians。
Four Thracian Guardsmen were directly ahead of me； using the charred corpse of a fallen aurochothere for cover as they blasted into
the press。
I was a few steps away from them when the gigantic dead animal reanimated； a psychic puppet； killing them all。
My weapons were useless。 I focussed my mind and blew the thing apart with a concussive mental wave。
An Aurora Marine flew through the air over me； ten metres up； his legs missing。
I ran on； scything my blade at the escaped prisoners who menaced me。
The road was covered with the dead。 Humans； on fire from head to foot； stumbled past me and collapsed on their faces。
The Trojan tractor team was on fire； its massive trailer slewed around。 Three of the enemy pyskers lay dead on the payload space； and
four void shields remained intact； their occupants frantic within。
But the others…
Upwards of twenty…five alpha…level enemy psykers had escaped。
I saw the first； a stumbling； emaciated wretch of a man； near the end of the trailer。 Corposant flickered around his head and he was
trying to eat a screaming astropath novitiate。
My boltgun stopped his daemonic work。
I dropped to my knees； gasping and crying as the second found me。 She was a stringy female； clad in a gauzy white veil； her
fingernails like talons。
She cowered behind the end of the trailer； sobbing and lashing out at me with her foul power。 She had no eyes。
I am not alpha…class。 My brain was broiling and bubbling。
A Thracian guardsman ran at her from the left； and instinctively； she turned her attention to him。 His head popped like a blister。
I shot her through the heart and knocked her flat on her back。 Her limbs continued to thrash for over a minute。
Electrical discharge spat out at me from nearby in the crowd。 People； screaming and burning； tumbled frantically back from a male
psyker who was striding； head down； towards the hives。 He was a dwarf； with stunted limbs and an enlarged cranium。 Ball lightning
crackled around his pudgy fingers。
I stabbed at him with my mind； just to get his attention and then exploded his face with a pin…point bolt。
Emperor save me； he kept coming。 I had blown the front off his skull； but he kept coming。 Blind； his features a gory mess。 He
stumbled across the ground towards me； his still…active mind boring into mine。
I fired again； almost panicking myself； and blew off one of his arms。 Still he came on。 My jacket； hair and eyelashes caught fire。 My
brain was about to explode out of my skull。
A Space Marine in the colours of the Aurora Chapter came at him from behind and shredded him into pulp with his boltgun。
'Inquisitor？' the Marine asked me； his voice distorted by his helmet mic。 'Are you all right？'
He helped me up。
'What insanity is this？' he rasped。
'You have a vox…channel； Marine？ Alert Lord Orsini！'
'Already done； inquisitor；' he crackled。
Behind us； the tractors exploded en masse； flinging fire and debris high into the air。
A scalded child ran past us； shrieking。
The Marine grabbed the child in his massive arms。
'This way； this way； out of danger…'
'No；' I said slowly。 'Don't… don't…'
His visored face swung up at me in confusion； the child cradled in his arms。
'Don't what？' he asked。
'Look at the brand！ The mark there！' I yelled； pointing to the Malleus rune burned into the child's ankle。 The hammer of witches。 The
brand…mark of the psyker。
The Chaos child looked up at me and grinned。
'What mark？' asked the Marine。 'What mark are you talking about？'
'I…I…'
I tried to fight it； please know that。 I tried to repel the unholy power of the child's mind as it groped into my head。 But this thing； this
''child''； was far beyond my powers to contain。
Kill him； it said。
My hand was shaking； resisting； as I swung the boltgun around and shot the Marine through the head。 A searing white agony flooded
my horrified being。
Now kill yourself； it suggested； chortling。
I put the smoking muzzle of the boltgun against my own temple； my vision filled with the giggling face of the child； perched on the
knee of the collapsed； headless Marine。
That's it… go on…
My finger tightened on the trigger。
'No… n…no…'
Yes； you stupid fool… yes…
Blood streamed out of my nose。 I wanted to fall to my knees； but the monster wouldn't let me。 It wanted me to do one thing； and one
thing only。 It implored me； ripping my consciousness apart。
It was strident and it was undeniable。
I pulled the trigger。
SEVEN
VOKE； AND SPECULATIONS。
ESARHADDON。
THROUGH THE VOID。