The music thrumd on, the dancers continued their frantic, spinning spiral, and the entire hall functioned according to an unseen script. Only Varex's voice buzzed in Enkidu's ear. The Astartes in the hall, drowned in sensory excess, raised their glazed eyes to watch the young initiate.
"The guest of honor?"
Enkidu felt that today was either the day he died or the day he was psychically lobotomized by the Dark Prince and turned into a puddle of compliant rot.
"I think..." He chose his words with clinical precision, his peripheral vision scanning the hall for any possible extraction route. "I am hardly qualified for such a title. I am a re initiate. My service and my honors cannot compare to those of my older brothers."
A few of the veterans turned away, returning to their private gas with bored indifference.
Varex, sprawled across his high throne, stared at Enkidu with a look of intense, earnest concentration, speaking with the sincerity of a truly devoted battle-brother.
"Has anyone ever told you that you are far too modest? Modest to the point of self-deprecation," Varex said, his voice ringing with an undeniable, feverish heat. "You secured Telax's trust so easily that he sent you here alone. You orchestrated the death of the xenos Patriarchs. I simply cannot fathom a reason why you wouldn't join us."
"Co. Do not hesitate. Embrace the joy of this mont with us."
Varex leaned forward, extending a hand.
The jewel-encrusted seat vibrated, the soft, fleshy floor splitting open as a set of furniture spiraled up into place. Dancers shifted their patterns, laughing as they ushered him toward the center of the feast.
the mists thickened. Noise Marines sounded their sonic sirens, and the "human organ" grafted into the bulkheads began to wail a haunting tune.
Enkidu looked down. In the shifting iridescent toxins in his cup, he saw a reflection of a face that was beginning to distort. Countless gazes—so vacant, so feverishly excited—fell upon him like teeth ready to tear.
"Hey, Varex." A voice broke the harmony. Varcus stepped forward, twirling his blades with a practiced, lethal elegance. "I want to play with our new brother. What do you think?"
"Of course! He is still a stranger to us. Playing with him will surely foster a sense of... camaraderie," the Warband Leader granted the request with a generous sweep of his hand. "Rember to use sothing 'fresh.' It wouldn't do for the ga to be dull."
Varcus grinned, his blades shimring with an eerie, violet light under the chandeliers.
"Did you hear that, little pebble?" He paced forward, every step synchronized with the heartbeat of the music. "The Lord said we should use sothing 'fresh.'"
Fine. A fight is better than waiting to rot.
"I've been looking forward to a rematch." Enkidu rose, his thumb resting on the guard as he pushed the Charnabal Sabre out an inch. "Let's begin."
The mont the steel cleared the sheath, the world of the hall seed to fall away.
In the shifting haze of light and shadow, the colors of the flagship began to fade.
Enkidu walked toward Varcus, yet he felt as if he were treading through an ancient, half-forgotten dream.
"Brother ▆▆▆▆▆, what is our next objective?"
In a well-appointed Astartes lounge, a Space Marine with a faint dusting of freckles on his face walked toward him, his tone light and professional.
"The Crusade continues, Icarus," Enkidu heard himself say. He handed the youth a pamphlet embossed with the heraldry of the III Legion. "Scout outposts report that our next target world is being held by a xenos species that has enslaved the local human population. We are to eliminate the oppressors and bring the world into the light of the Imperial Truth."
"Sounds like a proper fight."
Icarus flipped through the pamphlet, scanning the entries on the target species.
The xenos were described as bipedal, tailed organisms with humanoid posture but lacking skin. Their musculature and nervous systems were exposed to the elents. Their forelimbs ended in massive, razor-sharp talons. They were exceptionally agile, their speed enhanced by a biological chemical derived from the planet's flora. Their most dangerous trait, however, was a specialized vocal organ that could produce destructive sonic resonances, capable of shattering vehicle armor and pulping organs.
"We were born for war," Enkidu said with a faint smile, turning toward the armory. "Rest easy. The Phoenix has provided us with the tactical data we need. This will not be a difficult victory."
"True enough."
Inside the Stormbird, the restraints locked into place with a sharp clack.
The engines roared to life, the hull shrieking as it tore through the planet's atmosphere. As the command was given, Enkidu rose from his harness, dropping like a teor into the heart of the xenos city.
The city erupted into fla. Heavy ordnance tore through the alien architecture, and bolter fire fell like a torrential rain. The xenos fell in swathes. The human slaves watched with hollow, distant eyes, as if the liberation happening before them had nothing to do with their reality.
A xenos warrior, significantly larger than its kin, stood before him. Three chemical vats were mounted to its back, pumping stimulants through specialized tubes into a spinal interface.
The mont their eyes t, the creature let out a window-shattering shriek and charged.
A section of the city wall erupted into rubble, dust clogging the air. Enkidu perford a fluid, sliding sidestep, vanishing from the creature's field of vision. A heartbeat later, his blade was darting toward its flank.
Sensing the danger, the xenos lashed out with its heavy, armored tail. The Charnabal Sabre t the chitin with a high-pitched tallic chi.
Enkidu felt the weight in his left hand, but he didn't panic. This wasn't his primary avenue of attack.
A second blade leaped out, sliding silkily into the gap of the creature's tail armor. With a scream that was a mixture of agony and high-pitched pleasure, the thick tail was severed, falling to the deck with a heavy thud.
Wounded, the creature's chemical levels began to drop rapidly. It unleashed a devastating sonic wave from its throat and chest, shattering every object in the vicinity.
Enkidu retreated beyond the blast radius, drawing his bolter and firing two precise rounds. The shells severed the primary chemical tubes on the creature's back.
The stimulants sprayed across the floor. The xenos froze for a fraction of a second, its talons reaching back to plug the leaks even as it refused to abandon the fight.
A shell exploded nearby—the roar of the crowd in the colosseum.
One tube left.
Enkidu circled the creature with calm, asured steps. The xenos functioned exactly as the Legion data had predicted: it was utterly dependent on its drugs. Once the supply was compromised, its combat effectiveness plumted.
The strategy was set. He moved back to the front, firing several more rounds to bait the creature into a blind, screaming fury.
It worked. As the xenos launched a final, desperate charge, Enkidu executed his finishing move. His sabre punched through the creature's neck, shattering the final chemical vial.
The sound of breaking glass coincided with the creature's dying wail.
Enkidu stood still, his breathing perfectly even, only to find himself back in the banquet hall. Across from him, Varcus was stumbling backward, clutching a throat that was geysering hot blood.
The warband erupted into a deafening wall of cheers, shrieks, and mocking laughter. Several slaves fell from the dance platforms, crushed into the floor by the stampeding revelers.
"Magnificent! My dear brother Enkidu!" Varex clapped his hands together with feverish intensity, his eyes shining. "You defeated Varcus! Perfect... truly perfect! Your blade-work has the elegance of a classical dance!"
Varex rose from his throne. He unbuckled a crystalline, shimring blade from his belt and signaled for an attendant to present it to Enkidu.
"As a reward for the joy you have brought us, I grant you this."
~~----------------------
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