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that　it　would　be　inadvisable　to　proceed　to　the　drop…ship’s　location　overland。　We　do　not　know　the
numbers　of　the　xenos　between　here　and　there。”
“Agreed；”　said　Marduk。
“I　suggest　that　we　order　the　ship　to　launch；　to　meet　us　half　way。”
“Understood。　See　that　it　is　done；”　said　Marduk　severing　the　connection。
Bloody　and　battered；　Marduk　pulled　his　helmet　from　his　head　and　stowed　it　in　the　alcove　above
him。
At　last　they　were　leaving　this　doomed　Imperial　backwater　planet；　he　thought；　and　he　smiled；
exposing　his　sharp　teeth。
A　month；　maybe　two；　and　he　would　be　back　on　Sicarus；　returning　in　glory。
The　Land　Raider　rocked　as　tyranid　bio…weapons　struck　its　armoured　hide；　but　still　Marduk
grinned。
Glory　would　be　his。
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CHAPTER　FIFTEEN
Dracon　Alith　Drazjaer　of　the　Black　Heart　Cabal　strode　down　the　dark　corridor；　his　thin　lips　curled　in
distaste。　He　moved　with　the　supple；　arrogant　grace　of　a　born　warrior。　A　pair　of　heavily　armoured
incubi　bodyguards　walked　warily　on　either　side　of　him；　the　sweeping　blades　of　their　punisher
glaives　lowered。
They　passed　dozens　of　cells；　all　crammed　with　wailing；　wretched　slaves；　many　of　whom　had
already　felt　the　ministrations　of　the　haemonculus　Rhakaeth；　or　soon　would。
The　wretched　creatures　were　mostly　human；　but　there　were　other　lesser　species　packed　into　the
crowded　cells　as　well：　tall；　reptilian　k’ith；　kroot　mercenaries；　stony…faced　demiurg；　as　well　as　eldar；
either　those　of　Drazjaer’s　dark　kin　that　had　fallen　from　his　grace；　warriors　of　his　rivals；　or　his
deluded　craftworld　cousins。
The　cells　closest　to　the　haemonculus’s　operation　chambers　were　filled　with　his　experiments；　and
these　blighted　creatures　filled　the　corridor　with　their　sickly　cries。　Humans　with　their　spines　removed
flopped　impotently　on　the　floors　of　cells；　while　others　that　had　had　their　legs　replaced　with　muscular
arms　whooped　in　insane　rage；　hurling　themselves　against　the　invisible　barrier　separating　them　from
Drazjaer。　They　were　thrown　backwards　as　energy　arced　across　the　barrier；　accompanied　by　the　stink
of　ozone。
Other　twisted　monstrosities　had　insect…like　eyes；　more　than　one　head；　or　random　limbs　sprouting
from　their　bulbous　stomachs。　Some　had　leathery　wings　grafted　to　their　backs；　and　others　pulled
themselves　across　the　floor　of　their　cells　with　flipper…like　appendages　where　human　hands　had　once
been；　their　lower　bodies　shrunken　and　wasted；　like　the　malformed　legs　of　a　foetus　not　yet　reached　its
term。
Some　of　the　abominations　scratched　at　faces　that　were　already　torn　to　bloody　ribbons；　and　all
cried　out　for　death。　Still　others　flexed　overgrown　muscles；　fan…like　webs　of　skin　opening　up　beneath
their　arms；　while　others　appeared　almost　normal；　with　just　minor　enhancements；　such　as　arms　that
ended　in　glittering　blades；　or　had　sharp　ridges　of　bone　running　down　their　craniums。
A　pair　of　Rhakaeth’s　grotesques　guarded　the　door　to　the　haemonculus’s　chambers：　his　altered
ones；　his　companions；　his　twisted　cortege；　his　more　successful　experiments。　These　eldar　had　come
to　the　haemonculus　willingly；　desperate　to　experience　new　and　varied　sensations；　and　they　had
begged　and　backstabbed　their　way　into　Rhakaeth’s　favour　in　order　to　feel　the　touch　of　his　razors。
One　of　the　grotesques　stood　taller　even　than　Drazjaer。　Hundreds　of　quill…like　spines　had　been
surgically　inserted　into　his　flesh；　running　down　his　spine　and　across　the　backs　of　his　arms。　His
mouth　had　been　cut　into　a　new　form；　a　vertical　slash　bisecting　his　horizontal　lips；　and　additional
musculature　added　so　that　when　it　opened；　its　four　corners　peeled　back　independently。　The
abomination’s　eyes　were　those　of　some　serpentine；　alien　species；　and　a　dual　pair　of　eyelids　blinked
as　the　grotesque　looked　towards　the　approaching　dracon　and　his　incubi。　Its　quills　stood　on　end　and
began　to　shiver　noisily。　More　spines　flicked　from　within　his　forearms；　and　others　slid　forwards　from
the　base　of　its　palms。
The　second　of　Rhakaeth’s　guards；　a　female　eldar；　was　completely　naked；　though　her　flesh　was
covered　in　small　metallic　blue　scales　that　shimmered　and　turned　a　dusky　red　as　Drazjaer　drew　near。
Her　luscious；　ruby　lips　parted　and　a　forked　tongue；　pierced　in　a　dozen　places　with　metal　studs；
flicked　out　past　sharpened　teeth。　The　fingers　of　her　left　hand　had　been　replaced　with　long　knives；
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and　parts　of　her　body—and　her　companion’s—bore　scars　and　fresh　wounds　that　had　clearly　been　the
result　of　her　caresses。
Neither　of　the　altered　eldar　warriors　bore　weapons；　their　enhanced　bodies　their　instruments　of
death。
The　incubi　at　Drazjaer’s　side　levelled　their　glaives　at　the　pair；　and　runes　flickered　with　witchlight
upon　the　blasters　built　into　their　sweeping　tormentor　helms。　The　potent　weapons　were　neurally
linked　to　the　incubi’s　brain　waves；　and　could　be　fired　with　a　mere　thought；　leaving　the　warrior’s
hands　free　to　wield　their　punisher　glaives。
The　grotesques　hissed　at　the　powerfully　armoured　incubi；　the　female　creature　flexing　her　fingers；
and　her　male　counterpart　turning　his　upturned　hands　towards　them。　Drazjaer　had　seen　that　one　fight
before。　It　was　capable　of　firing　the　spines　from　its　palms；　and　the　merest　scratch　of　one　of　the　quills
would　cause　a　slow　and　painful　death。　The　haemonculus　Rhakaeth　had　been　particularly　proud　of
that　creation。
Drazjaer　waved　them　aside　with　a　languid；　dismissive　motion；　and　the　pair　of　grotesques　backed
away　from　the　portal；　still　hissing　at　the　incubi。
“Stay　here；”　Drazjaer　said　to　his　bodyguards；　in　his　soft；　dangerous　voice。　The　incubi　bowed
their　helmeted　heads　in　respect　of　his　wishes　and　stood　to　attention；　taking　up　a　position　opposite　the
grotesque　bodyguards；　the　ruby…red　crystal　lenses；　hiding　their　eyes；　glittering　menacingly。
Drazjaer　strode　into　Rhakaeth’s　chambers；　the　bladed　arcs　of　the　door　slicing　closed　behind　him；
and　gazed　around。
He　avoided　the　haemonculus’s　private　chambers　whenever　possible；　and　it　had　been　some　years
since　he　had　last　set　foot　in　this　part　of　his　ship。
The　only　light　within　the　room　was　a　dull；　pulsing　glow　that　emanated　from　the　floor　and
ceiling；　throbbing　like　the　beat　of　Khaine’s　heart；　Rhakaeth’s　eyes　were　particularly　sensitive　to
bright　lights。　The　walls　of　the　circular　chamber　were　smooth　and　the　colour　of　dried　blood　and
bladed　stands　atop　which　was　spread　a　veritable　cornucopia　of　curios　and　torturous　implements
hovered　above　the　floor。
There　was　no　obvious　order　to　the　mess　of　objects　strewn　across　the　levitating　stands。　The
hollowed　skulls　of　eldar；　carved　with　runes；　lay　alongside　blades　covered　in　rust…like　flecks　of　dried
blood；　jars　filled　with　blinking　organic　creatures　that　squirmed　within　their　confinement；　and
decomposing　severed　limbs　and　organs　left　to　rot。
Drazjaer　moved　to　one　of　the　hovering　stands　and　lifted　up　a　cube　the　size　of　a　child’s　skull。　Its
sides　were　covered　in　stretched；　flayed　eldar　skin；　and　as　he　held　it；　faces　began　to　push　from　within；
straining　to　escape。　They　opened　their　mouths　wide　in　silent　cries　of　torment。
“That　was　a　gift　to　me　from　my　old　master；”　said　a　hollow　voice；　and　Drazjaer　turned　to　see　his
haemonculus；　Rhakaeth；　ghost　into　the　room；　his　impossibly　thin；　skeletal　frame　seeming　to　glide
across　the　floor。　Blood　was　splashed　across　one　emaciated　cheek；　shockingly　bright　on　his
monotone　countenance。
The　haemonculus　folded　his　wasted　arms　across　his　chest；　skeletal　fingers　covered　in　blood
scratching　idly　at　the　emaciated　flesh　of　his　upper　arms。
“Before　you　killed　him？”　asked　Drazjaer。
“Indeed。　It　is　a　crucible。　The　soul…spirits　of　an　entire　seer…council　of　our　brothers　of　Ulthwe　are
housed　within　it；”　said　Rhakaeth。
“It’s　very　nice；”　said　Drazjaer；　placing　the　cube　back　upon　the　hovering　stand。
“But　you　did　not　come　here　to　admire　my　collection；”　said　the　haemonculus；　“you　came　here　to
pay　witness　to　my　work。　Please；　my　lord；　come　through。”
Drazjaer　followed　him　through　to　a　side　room　and　gazed　upon　the　two　bloodied　bodies　that　were
held　aloft　by　a　multi…legged　mechanism；　their　limbs　pierced　by　the　blade…arms　of　the　machine。
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The　two　figures　were　immense；　as　tall　as　eldar；　but　easily　three　times　the　weight；　their　bodies
bulked　out　with　thi