Enkidu stood on the empty hangar deck, watching Virsuto in the shadows. A prickle of unease ran down his spine.
He's always been close to Telax. Why is he here on the flagship now?
But the "Long War" veterans were nothing if not unpredictable and abstract. Considering this was the Warband Leader's personal domain, perhaps his presence wasn't so strange after all.
"I am here on Lord Telax's orders to fulfill a mission," Enkidu said, striking his breastplate in a brief, crisp salute. Virsuto offered a slow nod of acknowledgent.
"It seems he truly values you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have sent you here to... acclimate early."
"Acclimate?"
"Acclimate," Virsuto confird, a thin smile curling his lips. "After all, this ship is vastly different from the Lash. Telax treats you with a certain... preciousness. He keeps everything clinical and disciplined. Here, it is different. This is a gathering place for 'artists.'"
I can imagine what kind of "art" they practice here, Enkidu thought sourly.
"So... I am to remain here for a ti?"
"Indeed." Virsuto turned, gesturing for him to follow. "Since Telax wants you to broaden your horizons, I, as your ntor, shall take you on a tour. Of course, if Varex has other designs for you, that is a different matter entirely."
Enkidu fell into step behind him. The hollow echo of their ceramite boots on the hangar deck was quickly swallowed by a wet, squelching sound that seed to pulse from the bulkheads—as if the Machine Spirit itself were sighing in perverse satisfaction.
As they passed through the umbilical connecting the hangar to the main hull, the air grew sweltering, thick with a cloying, heavy musk. Enkidu instinctively slowed his breathing, allowing his multi-lung to filter out the toxins more efficiently.
"Uncomfortable?" Virsuto glanced back at him.
"I've survived worse."
"You'll grow to appreciate it. Varex had Morpheus formulate this specific atmosphere. It's said to enhance... vigor and creativity." Virsuto paused, his tone shifting to one of playful malice. "It might be jarring at first, but in ti, you might find you can't live without it."
I'd rather die, Enkidu thought, pulling his gaze away from the fleshy, pulsating growths on the walls. He changed the subject abruptly.
"Where are we going?"
"To find your quarters. It wouldn't do for you to stay here without a place to—"
The air suddenly grew heavy. Enkidu's hand flew to his hilt, drawing his sabre halfway. At the far end of the corridor, several Astartes approached, swaying with a drunken, rhythmic gait. At their head was Varcus, the degenerate he had dueled earlier.
Varcus didn't attack. He simply stood there, his greedy eyes roaming over Enkidu, tracing every line of his fra as if he were savoring a delicacy.
"Look, it's the little pebble I found earlier," Varcus drawled, his companions erupting into snickering laughter. "The Dark Prince must be moved by my devotion to have delivered you to again so soon."
Enkidu felt his skin crawl. He drew his blade fully, settling into a combat stance.
Virsuto stood to the side, arms crossed. He made no move to intervene or assist—he was content to be an observer.
"Oh, little pebble, don't be like that." Varcus spread his hands, his gaze still uncomfortably sticky. "I'm not here to fight. I'm here to invite you. You are truly fortunate; Varex knew of your arrival the mont you stepped onto his deck. I can't afford to break you before he's had his turn."
"He knows ?"
Varcus exchanged an ambiguous, knowing look with his companions before braying with laughter.
"Of course he knows," Virsuto interrupted, seeing that a fight was no longer imminent. "The Velvet Abyss is an extension of his will. He knows everything that happens within her hull. Even I know he takes a special interest in you. He was the one who nad you at your 'birth,' after all."
The debauched laughter died instantly. Varcus froze, a look of naked, unshielded jealousy washing over his features.
"Well... perhaps Varex summoned you because it's finally ti for you to beco one of us," he said, his voice dripping with bitterness. "Three years. Only three. It took five before Varex even looked my way... No matter. We have plenty of ti to get acquainted. For now, let us attend the banquet. We shouldn't keep him waiting."
Before Enkidu could react, the other marines moved to flank him, boxing him into a loose formation.
Do I even have a choice? Enkidu thought with a grim internal sigh. He lowered his blade, signaling his compliance.
"Lead the way, then."
The great doors sealed shut behind them. Thick, perfud smoke billowed from every vent, instantly swallowing the path they had co.
Enkidu couldn't see the full extent of the hall. He could only make out the massive crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling—they were larger and more densely packed than those in the corridors, but their light was dim and flickering, like a thousand half-closed eyes. Lines of slaves stood in the shadows, draped in gold that hung from their brows to their ankles. Their faces were hidden behind veils, leaving only vacant, hollow eyes visible.
The slaves danced in an endless, frantic whirl, leaping and spinning until they collapsed from exhaustion, only to be torn apart by the surging crowd.
Discordant music flowed from unseen vox-emitters. It lacked rhythm, possessing only a haunting, primal lody that throbbed like a heartbeat—a pulse from beyond the Veil that hamred at the senses.
He saw groups of Astartes gathered in circles, performing flamboyant, exaggerated sword-forms and erupting into fits of laughter. Others sat motionless on "chairs" made of weeping, succulent flesh, staring blankly while cradling bowls of iridescent, toxic soup.
Enkidu closed his eyes for a mont, forcing himself to go deaf and blind to the madness. He focused his entire being on the high dais at the end of the hall.
Varex.
He looked exactly as he had during their first encounter: lazy, mad, and utterly depraved. More hooks had been driven through his facial skin, stretching his features into a permanent, agonizing mask. His tongue had been crudely pulled out and pinned to his breastplate, weeping fresh blood. A rack of new chemical vats hung from his power pack, pumping a constant stream of stimulants into his system to keep his spirit "vibrant."
The mont Enkidu's gaze t his, Varex surged with excitent.
"Enkidu."
the voice was quiet, yet it cut through the deafening roar of the hall. It sounded from every direction at once, vibrating against the inner walls of Enkidu's skull.
"Co closer," Varex said. His long tongue retracted violently, tearing itself in half against the silver pins. "Let have a proper look at you."
The smoke parted before him and sealed the way behind.
Enkidu gritted his teeth and stepped forward. The gazes of the assembled Astartes pricked at his back like needles. Whispers rose and fell, swallowed by the thumping music. He counted his steps. One. Two. Three.
The high throne lood closer. Varex's face grew clear through the haze.
The mouth, torn open to the ears, curved into a hideous arc.
"Don't be nervous, my lovely child. It is rely a banquet. You will grow to love it," he said, his voice thick with sated pleasure. "I promise you... you are the guest of honor tonight."
~~----------------------
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