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the　full　force　of　its　potency。
Marduk　had　always　honoured　Chaos　in　all　its　guises；　and　had　reproached　those　within　his　flock
who　had　strayed　too　close　to　the　worship　of　any　of　the　infinitesimal　deities　of　the　immaterium　in
isolation。　He　had　never　felt　the　attentions　of　any　single　god　upon　him　like　he　did　now；　and　he
struggled　to　maintain　control　as　the　Prince　of　Pleasure　exerted　its　will　upon　him。　He　fell　to　one　knee；
clenching　his　eyes　closed　tightly；　struggling　not　to　be　overwhelmed　by　the　surging　power　that
threatened　to　tear　him　apart。
Do　not　fight　me；　whispered　a　seductive　voice　in　his　mind；　its　power　staggering。　The　voice　was
silken；　though　behind　its　whisper　Marduk　could　hear　a　billion　souls　screaming　in　torment　and
ecstasy。　The　power　of　the　words　ripped　through　his　soul；　and　a　tortured　groan　escaped　his　lips。
It　is　not　for　you　that　I　come。
In　an　instant；　Marduk　lowered　his　defences；　allowing　the　full　potency　of　Slaanesh　to　manifest
within　him。
“Get　it　out　of　my　sight；”　said　the　dark　eldar　lord；　unaware　of　the　power　growing　within　Marduk。
Arrogant　fool；　thought　the　First　Acolyte；　he　still　believes　me　to　be　contained　by　the　null…field
device。
Marduk’s　face　snapped　up；　his　eyes　a　milky；　pale　blue　with　narrow　slits　in　place　of　his　pupils。
“I　know　what　it　is　that　you　fear；”　Marduk　hissed　in　a　voice　that　was　not　his　own；　and　the　dark
eldar　lord　recoiled　as　if　physically　struck。　“Your　souls　are　mine！”
“The　Great　Enemy；”　breathed　the　dracon　in　horror；　speaking　in　the　eldar　tongue；　though　Marduk
found　that　he　could　understand　its　words。
The　First　Acolyte　pushed　himself　to　his　feet；　feeling　immeasurable　power　suffusing　his　body；
and　he　lifted　his　arms　out　wide　to　either　side；　palms　upwards。　He　could　feel　the　panic　and　fear　flow
from　the　gathered　eldar　warriors；　washing　over　him　in　a　tantalising；　delicious　wave。
Marduk　exhaled；　and　a　pink　mist　rolled　from　his　throat；　filling　the　air　with　its　heady；　musky
aroma。
“Kill　it！　Kill　it　now！”　screamed　the　eldar　lord；　and　a　hundred　weapons　fired；　as　if　his　words　had
snapped　his　warriors　from　their　horrified　paralysis。
The　air　was　filled　with　thousands　of　barbed　splinters；　lances　of　dark　matter　and　comscating　arcs
of　energy。
None　of　the　shots　struck　his　flesh　as　Marduk　continued　to　exhale；　the　mist　curling　and　billowing
from　his　mouth。　Splinters　slowed　as　they　came　within　centimetres　of　his　flesh；　dropping　to　the　floor
in　their　hundreds　with　a　musical　ring；　and　beams　of　dark　matter　fizzled　and　dissipated　as　they　seared
towards　him。　Arcs　of　energy　flowed　around　his　body；　leaving　his　flesh　unscathed。
The　pale　mist　rolled　across　the　floor；　and　the　eldar　recoiled；　continuing　to　fire　their　weapons　as
they　backed　away。
“Come　to　me；　my　handmaidens；”　hissed　the　voice　speaking　through　Marduk。
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CHAPTER　TWENTY
Baranov　threw　himself　backwards　as　the　eldar　began　to　fire；　and　stray　shots　sliced　through　the　air
around　him　as　he　scrambled　back　behind　the　doors　leading　into　the　slave　deck。　His　heart　beating
wildly；　he　pushed　himself　backwards　with　his　feet；　so　that　he　came　to　rest　with　his　back　up　against
the　wall　alongside　the　dead　figure　of　the　haemonculus。　He　stared　down　at　the　crumpled；
unrecognisable　face　of　the　eldar。
Several　slaves　had　been　cut　down　by　stray　fire；　and　lay　bleeding　on　the　floor。　One　of　them；　a
young　woman；　reached　piteously　towards　Baranov　for　help；　blood　bubbling　from　her　mouth　like
foam。　Baranov　kicked　at　her　hand　to　keep　her　away。　Behind　her；　the　other　slaves　were　streaming
away　from　the　open　portal　as　more　stray　shots　pinged　off　the　walls。　A　splinter　ricocheted　off　a　wall
panel　and　struck　the　woman　in　the　eye；　killing　her　instantly。
The　Space　Marine　spoke；　and　Baranov　reeled　in　horror；　doubling　over　in　pain。　It　felt　like　things
were　clawing　inside　him；　and　an　intrusive　stabbing　pain　gripped　his　guts。　He　vomited；　emptying　his
stomach　as　the　utter　wrongness　of　the　voice　clawed　at　his　sanity；　and　tears　ran　down　his　face　as　he
spat　yellow　bile　onto　the　floor。
Baranov　sank　to　the　floor；　oblivious　to　the　vomit　and　drool　on　his　chin　and　down　the　front　of　his
chest；　his　limbs　shaking。　The　Space　Marine　spoke　with　the　voice　of　a　daemon；　a　voice　of　madness。
Its　words　were　alien　and　horrific　to　Baranov；　like　a　deafening　cacophony　of　screams　and　guttural
snarls。
A　sudden　compulsion　made　him　crawl　forwards　on　his　hands　and　knees　to　peer　around　the
corner　of　the　circular　doorway；　and　though　he　fought　the　urge；　his　soul　screaming；　he　could　no　more
stop　his　movements　than　he　could　stop　his　heart　from　beating。　With　tears　running　down　his　face；　and
shaking　his　head　in　denial；　Baranov　looked　around　the　corner。
The　Space　Marine　was　standing　with　his　arms　spread　wide；　his　head　thrown　back；　and　pink　mist
was　seeping　from　within　him；　billowing　from　the　cuts　upon　his　body　and　spilling　from　his　eyes；
nostrils　and　mouth。　The　mist　rolled　out　across　the　floor　before　him；　and　the　black…armoured　xenos
warriors　continued　to　blaze　away　at　the　daemonic　figure　as　they　backed　away　from　its　touch；　though
their　weapons　did　nothing。
Baranov　thought　he　saw　shapes　within　the　mist；　sensuous　bodies　wrapped　around　each　other　in
ecstasy；　but　he　blinked　his　eyes　and　they　were　gone；　nothing　but　contorting　shapes　formed　by　the
roiling；　pink　smoke。
The　mist　coiled　around　Baranov’s　legs；　and　he　felt　hands　caressing　his　skin；　which　was　at　once
arousing　and　repulsive。　The　musk　entered　his　lungs　and　he　felt　instantly　light…headed；　as　if　his　mind
was　addled　with　opiates；　and　his　flesh　tingled　with　sensation。
He　saw　that　his　first　impression　had　been　correct。　There　were　figures　in　the　mist；　and　they　were
rising　like　serpents；　their　bodies　unfurling　as　they　stood；　their　every　movement　fluid　and　supple
beyond　human　capacity。
There　were　dozens　of　them：　tall；　slender　figures　not　unlike　the　eldar　in　proportion；　though　the
similarities　ended　there。　They　were　neither　male　nor　female；　or　rather；　they　were　both
simultaneously；　and　they　moved　with　inhuman　grace　and　suppleness；　their　bodies　twisting　and
writhing。　Baranov　found　that　his　breath　was　coming　in　husky　gasps　as　he　looked　upon　their
unnatural　forms。
161
The　figures　solidified；　and　Baranov　was　paralysed　in　horrified　rapture。　His　soul　screamed　within
him　of　the　utter　wrongness　of　what　he　was　seeing；　yet　his　body　was　responding　to　the　hellish　allure
of　the　figures。　He　saw　their　faces；　and　they　were　angels；　beings　of　incomparable　beauty。　Their　hair
writhed　like　nests　of　vipers；　and　their　eyes　gleamed　with　the　promise　of　pleasure…　and　pain。
The　daemon’s　faces　changed　suddenly；　the　facade　of　beauty　sloughing　off　as　they　opened
luscious　mouths；　exposing　needle…like　teeth。　Their　eyes　were　as　black　as　night　and　too　large　for　their
hellish　faces；　and　Baranov　realised　that　the　daemon’s　slender　arms　ended　not　in　hands；　but　in
elongated；　serrated　claws。
Then　the　killing　began。
The　daemonettes　moved　with　impossible　grace；　matching　and　surpassing　that　of　the　eldar。　Every
sharp　movement　of　the　daemons　ended　in　a　spurt　of　blood；　a　killing　thrust；　a　severed　limb。　Bladed
arms　slashed　across　jugulars；　and　slender　claws　snapped　bones。　Elongated；　tri…forked　tongues　lapped
lasciviously　at　spilled　blood；　and　the　daemonettes　spun　and　pirouetted　through　the　carnage；　killing
with　every　graceful；　savage　movement。
Baranov　breathed　deeply　of　the　intoxicating　musk　as　he　began　to　hyperventilate；　and　his　irises
swelled　into　wide；　staring　discs。
A　daemonette　appeared　out　of　the　mist　alongside　him；　running　a　slender　claw　along　the　inside　of
his　thigh；　drawing　blood。　A　stinging　tongue　caressed　his　neck；　and　Baranov　moaned。
Marduk　laughed　aloud；　hacking　left　and　right　with　his　blade；　severing　limbs　from　bodies　and
relishing　the　unabashed　terror　of　the　eldar。
The　daemonettes　were　tearing　through　the　eldar；　carving　a　bloody　swathe　through　their　panicked
ranks。　Dozens　of　the　daemons　were　snuffed　out　of　existence　as　their　physical　bodies　were　torn　apart
by　the　frantically　fired　weapons　of　the　eldar；　but　more　of　them　continued　to　appear　from　the　heady
musk；　taking　shape　even　as　their　sisters　were　cut　down。
Marduk　fought　his　way　towards　the　eldar　lord；　who　was　backing　away　frantically；　his　guards
closing　around