Salvation by Fire del 5

Part IV.

The footsteps of the Death Hands echoed true the dark and moist tunnels that lead into the very hearth of the Hive that reached for the sky above them. The tunnels showed the signs of heavy use with bodies and disregarded supplies piled up.

As the group reached a bridge that gapped ran over a gaping shaft that plunged into darkness they came to a halt. " Hold here brothers" came the order from Brother Captain Arkangle.
He walked up to the two Astartes that was acting as pathfinders in this maze of darkness and decay.
"What do you see brother" he asked the one standing nearest to him. " The tunnel splits into two paths, we have explored one, it seems to lead back to the surface. But we did not go the full length due to the amount debris blocking it."

"Understood lead on then, let us not keep out prey waiting" Arkangle said with a smile that could have frozen the blood of a mere mortal to ice.

As they descended into the catacombs that lay beneath Centurion Prime did Liberian Octavious feelt a unholy feeling of foreboding washing over his mind. He was a veteran of hundreds of battles and his psychic powers was a force of total destruction when he employed them in the service of the chapter but this feeling unnerved even him. " Emperor keep me" he whisper to himself as he and his brothers advanced in utter darkness. Only once had he felt like something similar to this, and that time had almost been the end of his service to the Emperor.

His hands gripped thither around his force staff and blessed power axe. No he would not succumbed to fear and memories of battles long gone, his Captain required his help as did the rest of his comrades. Even with these thoughts he did not dare to feel safe, the Empyrean did not suffer fools to live untainted

As these events unfolded the other actors in this game of fate began to contemplate their next move. The shadowy figure witch had observed the Astartes enter the catacombs consulted with its fellow observers and discussed their next set of reactions to this. The heretics continued their war against the false emperors servants, and the Imperial Guard still struggled to keep their enemies at bay.
The endgame was drawing near, and soon the final pieces of the puzzle would be put in place.

After some time the Astartes reached their goal, a massive chamber that spanned several hundred meters wide and a roof that disappeared into the gloom above their heads.
In the chamber they could see a seething throng of cultists swaying in synchronised tune with the man they had chased across several sectors and war zones.

Now had the time come for vengeance, for retribution and once and for all ending the wild hunt.
Brother Captain Arkangle and Sergeant Lyandros of The Death Hands looked upon the sea of heretics and dregs separating them from their prey.
" To the death my lord" the Sergeant said with a voice that trembled with righteous anger.

The captain nodded and turned to the rest of his men " For decades have we hunted this vile heretic. Now he can not run, now there are only him and us" drawing breath and activating his power sword he continued " DEATH TO THE HERETIC! WOE TO THOSE WHO STRAY FROM HIS LIGTH! TO WAR!" he shouted, his brothers in arms responded in kind and began a thundering charge towards their awaiting foe.

Upon hearing the amplified and thundering voice of the Astartes leader the amassed heretics responded with howls of their own, Aspiring champions gathered their minions and began their own reckless charge with cries to the blood god.
Their leader felt a sudden chill grip his heart, now there was no escape he realised. In coming down here he had in effect sealed his own fate should his followers fail to stop the loyalists.
He turned to the two massive figures beside him and pointed to the figure of Captain Arkangle, " KILL HIM! Collect his skull for Khorne" he shouted with a voice filled with hate and despair born from a knowledge that doom is coming.

The band of Astartes and heretics met on the floor of the great chamber with a mighty howl. The first traitor to die was simply crushed under the weight of the charging Captain and his next victim was split from skull to groin witch caused his cauterized guts to spill forth in a gruesome manner.
The Astartes was superior to the heretic in single combat but now the odds where stacked against the Angles of death, they where outnumbered by thousand of blood crazed heretics and no reinforcements was coming to their aid. But they still played for their disloyal ways, many where gunned down by volleys of disciplined bolter and melta gun fire. But the Astartes did not have much ammunitions and they where being forced into forgo ranged weapons for their trice blessed chain swords and power axes witch crackled with ripples of electricity.

Arkangle parried a blow from a hiver and punched hard with his right hand into the chest of another traitor witched reduced said individual to noting more than a slowly dying ruined mess of a man. He had run out of ammunition for his bolt pistol and was hacking away at his foes with a gruesome speed. His genetically enhanced muscles allowed him to kill with a speed mere mortals could not hope to match. His brothers where following their Captain and carving a bloody path true their foes but not all who had joined the battle still lived, several Astartes had succumbed to the sheer mass of foes and wounds caused by Aspiring champions and such foul things. He swore that they would be avenged with the blood of their foes as long as he still drew breath.

"DIE TRAITOR" he roared and swung his blade in a arch around him cutting down several foes, but they where replaced before he could draw a breath.
Suddenly the heretical rabble fell away from the remaining Astartes, before them stood two immense figures that wore the same armour as the traitor marines they had fought not long ago. But these where clearly not some common traitor, the two World Eaters radiated a feeling of impending bloody death. Their war plate was scarred from countless battles and they wore no helmets. Their hands gripped chain axes with emitted a low growl as their bearers kept them ready.

The two sides stood no more than ten meters apart, except for the sounds of the dying and wounded not a word was spoken until Sergeant Lysandros broke it " Go get the bastard my lord, we will deal these traitors their due punishment".

From his raised platform the traitor general watched the two chaos marines square of against two loyalists, it should not take long. However he was gravely underestimating the two marines that met their traitorous brothers in combat.

The two Death Hands that rose to meet their traitorous kind was Sergeant Lysandros and Liberian Octavious with both where skilled warriors. Both men where proud and would give their life for their captain need be, now however they would distract the hulking World Eaters while their lord dealt the deathblow to their foe.

As Captain Arkangle accented the massive set of stairs leading up to the platform where his prey was he was constantly harried by screaming cultists and traitorous guardsmen who lunged at him with knifes, clubs and bayonets. None survived his wrath although he did feel the wear of almost two days of all but constantly fighting.

Below two Astartes fought for their life's, chain axes collided with power sword and axe. For anyone witnessing this show of supreme skill honed over countless years it may seem like the combatants where apparent from time and space. However there could be no illusion of the outcome of these duels. There would be no mercy given and none asked for

As he cleaved the last dreg blocking the air was filled with a death cry, his head turned out of sheer instinct, there he saw his sergeant laid low by a chain axe blow, however the traitor did not live to claim his prize, a tempest of warp fueld rage boiled the traitor away as Liberian Octavious allowed himself to cast a devastatingly psychic blast before succumbing to his own wounds, both traitors lay dead and so did their loyalist brothers.

As the Captain walked onto the blood stained platform his face showed revealed the boiling hate that now treated to flow fourth from him like a tsunami.
The prey he had been stalking was now within reach, and he intended to repay him.

The fiend he had hunted awaited him, sword in hand. The man seemed to tremble but held his ground against the Astartes who closed in on him

As the two combatants began to circle each other four shimmering forms appeared at the far end of the chamber well covered in darkness. " Target sighted honoured one. What is your command".

The reply came in a voice witch sounded almost inhuman " Remove the broken part of the puzzle of fate". The response was a single flash of ligth followed by a sound of bone splintering and a how of outrage.

"Target down"

"Dose the loyalist Mon - Keigh live»

" Yes, he lives"