The underhive of Valthrex Prime shuddered, a rusted labyrinth of sagging gantries and dripping pipes, its air choked with promethium's acrid bite and the rot of forsaken slums. Kael, Dreadnought of the Blood Angels' IX Legion, stood as a colossus amidst a traitor storm, his ceramite hull-scarred from Gorgona Secundus's blood-drenched jungles - ablaze with the fury of twin heavy bolters. Explosive rounds tore through Emperor's Children, their purple armor, filigreed with baroque gold, bursting into shards, molten slag pooling on a rockcrete fouled by treachery. Word Bearers fell in crimson and grey, their scripture-clad pauldrons splintering, blood fountaining as zealots crumpled under his wrath. "For Sanguinius and the Emperor!" Kael's voice thundered from his sarcophagus, a hymn forged in the Great Crusade's fires, the Laurel of Defiance gleaming on his pitted chassis. Sonic blasts keened from Fulgrim's sons, cracking his plating, while plasma bolts scorched his flank, blackening ceramite. Undaunted, he crushed a traitor beneath his tread, ichor mingling with crimson in Valthrex's shadowed maw.
The Keeper of Secrets loomed above, a lithe abomination of Slaaneshi horror, towering thrice an Astartes' height. Its four arms wove a dance of death - two clawed, razor-shapr, two pincered, dripping Warp-forged venom. Its bovine head, crowned with curling horns, grinned with fanged delight, amethyst eyes burning like molten lust, its pastel skin glistening with an oily sheen. Silken robes writhed as if alive, exuding a narcotic musk that clawed the air. Its psychic presence slammed into Kael's sarcophagus, a torrent of Slaanesh's sorcery breaching his ancient wards. Visions tore through his entombed mind - Dario's charred corpse on Gorgona, Lysor's still form, their screams accusing him of failure; Sanguinius, weeping blood, denouncing Kael as unworthy; a false ecstasy, promising release from centuries of pain and war. Agony lanced his neural links, not flesh but soul, each memory a blade twisted by the daemon's glee. His sensors flickered, warnings screaming - system overload, psychic intrusion. "No..." he growled, vox crackling, his transhuman will straining against the Warp's seductive pull.
"You resist, machine-man?" the keeper purred, its voice a chorus of honeyed razors, slicing deepr. "Your duty is ash, your Legion dust. Feel my embrace - despair is sweeter than hope." It thrust a psychic spike, conjuring kael's darkest fears - Azkaellon fallen, Thaddeus torn apart, the IX Legion drowned in a crimson haze of betrayal, and Terra turned into ashes. Pain seared his core, his hull trembling as servos whined, red alerts flashing across failing systems. Traitor fire surged - sonic barrages from the Emperor's Children warped his bolters' barrels, and a plasma bolt melted his cannon's feed, silencing his wrath. The daemon stepped closer, a claw grazing his hull with mocking tenderness, its musk a cloying fog. "Pathetic husk," it taunted, "entombed in failure. Your brothers flee, abandoned. All will die, and I shall feast on their screams."
Kael's optic lens flared, a beacon piercing the psychic storm. "By the Angel's blood, I defy your lies!" he roared, a gothic thunderclap forged in Ullanor's triumphs. His chassis spun, ceramite grinding, damaged servos screaming as his assault claw slashed. The blow struck true, raking the Keeper's flank, black ichor spraying like wine across its iridescent hide. The daemon shrieked - not in rage, but rapture - its pincers tearing its own flesh, blood glistening as it moaned, Slaanesh's pleasure incarnate. "Exquisite!" it gasped, writhing in ecstasy, horns glinting under flickering lumens. Its amethyst eyes snapped to Kael, fury mingling with delight, and it lunged, claws plunging into his hull. Ceramite split, sparks cascading as the sarcophagus groaned, neural links burning—Kael's agony a banquet for the Dark Prince.
The Keeper's laughter turned feral, pincers ripping deeper, savoring his torment. Kael surged forward, a final charge of steel and faith, his bulk a battering ram. "For the IX! For Terra!" he bellowed, ramming the daemon, staggering it as ichor pooled beneath its hooves. It snarled, claws slashing wildly, shredding his plating, his light dimming as warnings - critical failure, life signs fading. The daemon stepped back, licking ichor from its claws, and purred, "Your pain bores me now." Turning to the Word Bearers, it barked, "Hunt the Angels - bring me their despair!" Its gaze shifted to the Emperor's Children, purple ceramite reflecting its lustful leer, their sonic weapons keening in worship as it savored their corruption, a Slaaneshi muse eyeing its prized devotees. "We will have some fun before destroying what we came to destroy on this planet..." Kael's hull sparked, his vox a fading whisper: "Run... Little...Broth...ers..." His light flickered out, a colossus fallen, as traitor chants rose.
Thaddeus Valen sprinted through the underhive's maze, his bolt pistol barking in his left hand, mass-reactive rounds punching through a Word Bearer's pauldron, blood spraying as the traitor fell. His chainsword hummed in his right, its teeth hungry, the Crimson Veil soaked crimson anew. Cassian followed, Talos slung over his shoulder, blood dripping from the wounded Blood Angel's chest, his breaths rasping like a failing bellows. Born's plasma pistol glowed, its blue hum a steady counterpoint to his stoic silence, while Serek's missile launcher rested ready, his dour face etched with rage at Kael's sacrifice. The underhive's walls closed in, slick with corrosion, pipes hissing promethium vapor, their crimson armor a flicker in the dark.
Word Bearers pursued, their chants - "For the Gods!" - echoing like a death knell. Thaddeus spun, pistol rearing, a round bursting a zealot's helm, brain-matter splattering rusted steel. "Keep moving!" he barked, leading them through a collapsed tunnel, debris crunching underfoot. The daemon's laughter lingered in his mind, a psychic barb. The Red Thirst clawed his veins, urging him to turn and rend, but he shoved it down, duty his anchor. Talo's fading pulse drove him - another brother lost would break them.
They stumbled into a shattered sump chamber, its floor flooded with oily sludge, gantries sagging overhead. Thaddeus signaled cover behind a toppled generator, its cogitator sparking faintly. Cassian eased Talos down, ceramite scraping, and checked his vitals, his cracked helm reflecting the chamber's dim lumens. Vorn knelt, scanning for threats, while Serek growled, "We should've stayed—blast that thing." Thaddeus raised his bolter gun, silencing him. "We honor Kael by surviving. They're coming-prepare."
Footsteps clattered - a Word Bearer squad, six strong, bolters raised, crimson armor glinting. Thaddeus aimed, pistol barking - two rounds hit a traitor's chest, ceramite cracking, blood fountaining. Vorn's plasma pistol flared, vaporizing another's arm, the zealot screaming as he fell. Serek's missile launcher roared, a frag round detonating, shrapnel shredding two more, their chants cut short. Cassian's bolter barked, dropping the last, his helm exploding in a crimson mist. Silence fell, broken by Talo's labored breaths and distant traitor hymns.
High above, in a spire's shattered command deck, Captain Ezekyle of the Luna Wolves fought amidst a storm of betrayal. His grey ceramite, scarred from Ullanor, gleamed under flickering lumens, his chainaxe roaring as it cleaved an Emperor's Child's pauldron, purple armor splitting, blood spraying. Five Luna Wolves stood with him - Garvox, Torm, and three others - their bolters thundering, felling Word Bearers whose crimson armor bore profane runes. The Fury of Terra's wreckage burned in orbit, visible through a cracked viewport, a wound in the void. Ezekyle's vox crackled, static drowning his calls - Slaanesh's Warp-taint, the daemon's curse, jammed all signals.
"Throne's wrath!" Ezekyle growled, ducking a sonic blast that shattered a console, sparks raining. "We must warn Horus - The Primarch, the Legions!" He carved through a Word Bearer, the axe biting spine, gore soaking his boots. The distress call was a trap - Emperor's Children, Word Bearers, and a daemon leading them. If no signal reached the Crusade, more would answer Valthrex's lie, falling to this heresy. "Garvox, rune!" he barked. Garvox knelt, etching a distress glyph into the deck with his combat knife - Horu's sigil, a plea for aid. Ezekyle's mind turned to Thaddeus Valen, the Blood Angel he'd trusted. "I should've told him - cannons first," he muttered, chainaxe revving. "But the Warden's sharp-he'll know." Faith in the IX Legion burned, a flicker in the dark.
A Word Bearer charged, bolter blazing, and Ezekyle roared, axe meeting ceramite, blood and sparks flying. His Wolves fought on, their grey a bastion against purple and crimson, but the spire trembled - traitors below, the daemon's shadow looming. "For the Emperor!" Ezekyle bellowed, vox silent but will unbroken, praying Thaddeus reached the cannons before more Legions fell.
Thaddeus's squad crouched in the sump-chamber, the air heavy with sludge and betrayal's stink. Cassian checked Talos's wound, blood pooling under crimson ceramite, his cracked helm reflecting urgency. "Thaddeus," he rasped, voice low, shaken, "that thing with Kael... was it Tyranid? It- " He faltered, jaw tightening. "It clawed my mind, like a xenos curse, pulling me toward... something foul."
Thaddeus removed his helm, green eyes blazing, his jaw clenched as the Red Thirst surged - a crimson urge to rend the daemon's pastel hide, its laughter, its moans defiling them. "I don't know," he said, his voice as hard as ceramite. "An abomination, born of treachery. We'll purge it, Cassian, but first we survive - destroy the cannons, find Ezekyle, and call reinforcements." He glanced at Talos, blood bubbling from his chest. "And save Talos. He dies, and Kael's stand means less." Cassian nodded, grim, while Serek muttered, "Let me blast that thing to ash," but Vorn's steady hand urged calm. "That thing can manipulate us, Serek don't lose your temper against it."
"Vorn, medicae," Thaddeus ordered. Vorn knelt, unpacking a field kit - a coagulant injector and wound sealant from vambrace's narthecium basics. He pierced Talo's chest seal, injecting stimms to slow the bleeding, sealant foaming to path the hole. Talos gasped, eyes fluttering, his transuman physiology clinging to life, pain etching his face, survival a fragile thread. "He's stable - for now," Vorn said, voice flat. "Apothecary soon, or he's lost." Thaddeus gripped his bolt pistol, nodding. " Then we move fast. Word Bearers and Emperor's Children's hunt us - that daemon's orders. We turn this ruin against them."
"Serek, traps," Thaddeus commanded. Serek growled approval, rigging frag grenades with tripwires across a gantry's choke point, their charges glinting. Vorn wired a scavenged lasgun to a plasma cell, it beam set to slice a rusted stair. Thaddeus planted a krak grenade under a loos rockrete - enough to collapse a pursuit - his pistol sweeping for threats. "They'll bleed for kael," he muttered, hatred burned, but duty held.
A vox hum warned of footsteps - Word Bearers, eight strong, crimson and grey armor clanking, chants hissing: "For the Gods!" Thaddeus signaled cover, the squad melting into shadows. The lead zealot tripped Serek's wire - frag grenades detonated, shrapnel shredding three, screams echoing, blood spraying. The lasgun beam fired, bisecting another, his torso sizzling. Survivors charged, and Thaddeus rose, bolt pistol barking - two rounds punched a traitor's chest, ceramite crhacking, gore fountaining. His chainsword roared , cleaving another's shoulder, blood soaking the Crimson Veils. Cassian's bolter dropped one, Vorn's plasma vaporized the last's helm, silence falling save Talos's breaths.
"Any route?" Thaddeus said, checking Talos's pulse - weak, stubborn. "The cannons are close" said Cassian. "We can take the Word Bearers and the Children Emperor's but we need to reach the control room and destroy it" said Vorn, voice steady. Serek said with a grim voice, "It will be guarded, and we can't go and leave Talos alone." Thaddeus clapped his shoulder and barked orders, "Cassian you and me we go there, Serk and Vorn find another place hide and wait for us."
Thaddeus's resolve blazed - Kael's pain, the daemon's abomination, would not prevail. Their will purge Valthrex's heresy, or die in crimson glory...