Warhammer 40k: I Refuse to Be a Slaanesh Marine Chapter 41 41: 41: Death of the Apothecary

The world of the ship had changed, whether they willed it or not.

The Machine Spirit writhed in agony, vomiting turbid fluids that instantly crystallized into ri-frost in the frigid void. Lance beams had shattered the armor of the corrupted light cruiser, causing catastrophic decompression in nurous compartnts. Countless mortals were sucked out, their bodies becoming silent drifting husks amidst the stellar flares.

Red ergency lights strobed frantically, but there were no operators left to heed them.

Enkidu batted away a flying shard of ceramite and landed firmly. Thanks to Telax's grueling and excessive zero-G training, he had activated his magnetic locks the mont the gravity failed, anchoring himself to the deck.

Everything was adrift. All things were freezing solid under the absolute chill. The garish, riotous colors of the ship had dimd into a monochromatic, deathly pallor. The "instrunts" that once provided "infinite joy" were silent now; Enkidu looked up to find that the victims had already closed their eyes behind masks of frost, greeting death with a look of profound liberation.

Not a bad way to go, the young Astartes thought. No more tornt.

His musings were cut short by the vox-broadcast of the Warband Leader's fury.

"Impossible! Unforgivable!" Varex roared, his gauntlets hamring against the walls. The shock of his precious "creation" being defiled rippled through his nerves—half of him was screaming in humiliated rage, while the other half shivered with the thrill of a long-lost sensation. "Six hundred and sixty-six years... six hundred and sixty-six species of humans and xenos used to build this masterpiece of art, and it is undone by..."

He launched himself forward like a projectile, smashing through everything in his path.

"Damnation, he's lost his mind again," Telax cursed over the squad link, before issuing a directive. "Enkidu, get to the Apothecarion imdiately. Find Morpheus. I need eyes on him and the state of our chemical reserves. Watch your back—those Craftworld rats won't be satisfied with just macro-cannons and lances. Now that the Velvet Abyss is crippled, they'll board to sweep the deck. If you find them, kill as many as you can."

"Understood."

Enkidu nodded and began moving along the route etched in his mory.

Though he despised Varex, now was not the ti for a coup—not yet. Craftworld Aeldari were not as fragile as Drukhari Kabalites. Eons of discipline and training made every one of them a master of their craft, and their gear was technologically superior to anything this impoverished warband possessed.

If the stimulants and combat drugs were lost now, the warband's "junkies" would suffer a catastrophic combat-effectiveness drop. The entire warband could be wiped out. For the sake of his own survival, he had to help the warband endure this trial.

Through a world of frost and distortion, Enkidu vaulted over debris and leaped across shattered bulkheads. In the flickering light of fires, he saw mortal slaves huddled near dying boilers, desperately trying to siphon the last traces of warmth. He saw groups gathered with tools, attempting to reseal airlocks. He also saw cultists who had completely lost their grip on reality, initiating a final slaughter; amidst hysterical laughter and weeping, they fashioned crude "artworks," piling corpses into totems that covered their altars.

Thud.

His iron boots hit the corridor leading to the Apothecarion. Enkidu's expression darkened.

The corridor and the lab beyond were devastated. Massive sections of the ceiling and walls had vanished, exposing the void of space illuminated by intermittent flashes of explosions. The cloying atmosphere that usually choked this wing was gone, replaced by a vacuum where equipnt floated in weightless chaos.

Through the ceramite floor, he felt the vibrations of claws scratching, teeth tearing, and the rhythmic thuds of heavy chewing. Sensing sothing was very wrong, he opened a private channel to the Apothecary.

Morpheus wore power armor even inside the ship; he would receive the signal.

"Brother Morpheus, report status. Please respond. Do you require assistance?"

"..."

"Brother Morpheus?"

"..."

There was no reply. Instead, a creature resembling a mass of flowing, oily tar slithered out from the ruined doors of the lab, letting out a territorial roar.

He's gone.

Enkidu snatched a prothium canister floating nearby, hurled it, and ignited it with a single bolter round. The monster was engulfed in fla, and Enkidu charged into the inferno.

The scene inside the Apothecarion was a nightmare.

Shattered vats, ruptured cultivation organs, and experintal subjects were strewn everywhere amidst the buckled bulkheads and flooring. Morpheus lay on the deck, his power armor shredded into jagged plates. His internal organs had spilled out in a slick heap. Twisted monstrosities were crawling out from a massive hole in the floor, fighting like hyenas over the Apothecary's remains.

Enkidu gauged the location of the breach; it led directly to the beast-pens where Morpheus kept his experintal subjects. After the lance strike, these man-made beasts had broken their shackles and turned on their creator.

Wait. The monsters didn't do this.

As he thodically cleared the remaining test-subjects, Enkidu observed the scene with clinical detachnt. Sothing was off.

It had only been twenty-five seconds from the lance strike to his arrival. Could these beasts truly have shredded a fully armored Astartes that quickly? A lance strike wouldn't have left this much at; it would have turned him to ash.

The remaining possibility, however unlikely, had to be the truth.

After slaying the last beast, he approached the pit and scraped a few grains of dust from the jagged edge of the breach.

A faint, nearly imperceptible scent drifted into his grill, captured by his multi-lung.

It wasn't a lance. It wasn't the monsters. It was a lta charge.

Soone wanted Morpheus dead.

"Telax, I have an ergency report." Enkidu opened the vox, broadcasting the explosive news alongside his combat recordings from the mont he entered the wing. "Morpheus is dead. I found him being scavenged by experintal beasts upon arrival."

He held no particular affection for Morpheus, but he hadn't wanted him dead. However, since the situation was irrevocable, he had to accept it—and provide an imdiate alibi for himself.

"%$#&!"

Telax cursed loudly. He wished, as he had many tis before, that he could turn back ti to the mont they chose this target. But the Dark Gods were never rciful; they answered no prayers, only demanding that he continue to lead through the catastrophe.

"Listen, Enkidu! Get to an open area imdiately! Virsuto just reported a Farseer heading your way. Do not let that witch corner you in a confined space!"

Enkidu smashed through a wall, attempting to break into the main hall, but he was too late. A strange psychic ripple began to echo through the hull, stacking and intensifying until it beca an inescapable web.

An Aeldari warrior wearing an ornate helm and clutching a shimring power sword stood in his path, blocking the exit with lethal intent.