Torghun Khan rallied his Brotherhood of the Moon, finding he had lost fourteen battle-brothers.
He led his brotherhood, alongside the Third Chapter, in the advance towards the southern mainland.
Varniskre, the highest peak in the Shetansvaar archipelago, was the seat of Muspel's ruler.
The swallow-tailed decorations of the Baal statues fluttered in the wind. Every inch of the fortress was lined with battlements and gun emplacements.
Its foundations were sunk deep into the rock of the promontory; ring-guns lined the cliff edges.
Waves crashed against the rocks. Flames crackled.
The tracks of Land Raiders ground against the grey-black tiles. Weapons systems began to warm up, turrets rotating with brief metallic whines as they sought targets.
The great wall-guns of Varniskre, relics of the Dark Age of Technology, opened fire.
The entire wall shuddered. Giant shells roared from their muzzles, slamming into a Land Raider.
Boom!
The black steel exploded into a heap of wreckage. The abandoned tank's flaming debris scattered.
Torghun raced along the trapezoidal pre-fabricated rockcrete of the artificial promontory.
Around Varniskre, layers of ore-bearing rock rose and fell, a hissing moat of waves.
Neutron lances tore through the air, piercing a black Rhino, melting five warriors in Mark IV power armor to slag.
Where the beams passed, marble-like skin crystallized into prisms.
Seawater, cold and sharp, filled Torghun's nostrils.
He ducked into cover, slapping a fresh magazine into his bolter, and made a two o'clock gesture.
He moved out of cover, advancing along a maintenance passage, his bolter roaring, firing at the servitor-operated gun emplacements.
Suddenly, crimson, orange, and yellow beams blazed on the wall.
Torghun was about to dive for cover when he saw the glowing runes suddenly freeze, as if paused.
He looked around, seeing the black Cataphractii-pattern Terminators standing motionless, as if all had become still.
'The power granted by Lord Nareth.' Torghun Khan's eyes gleamed.
"Charge!"
Astartes in black and white armor charged side-by-side.
A hail of small-arms fire rained down, peppering the white armor with dents.
Hailstones hammered against the black Mark IV power armor, then bounced off.
The quad-linked lascannon turrets on the wall, their structures sealed, swiveled, beams lancing out.
Rhino transports exploded into clouds of ceramic and plasteel, their detonations seeming unreal.
The side-mounted twin-linked lascannons of the Land Raiders targeted the walls, beams lancing out.
Smoke screens billowed. The Earthshaker cannons, installed by the 9th Legion's Techmarines, thundered. Melta cannons spat searing beams of energy.
Sicaran battle tanks rumbled towards the landing deck. Their Herakles-pattern accelerator autocannons swept the walls, leaving scorch marks.
Conversion beams sliced through the tanks like plastic models, the resulting sub-atomic implosions causing the smoking wreckage to disintegrate.
The Third Chapter's siege squads advanced at a run, erecting lightweight siege towers and scaling ladders.
Bikes roared, slamming into the siege towers, their engines belching smoke as they leaped onto the battlements.
The bikes crashed into the defenders, their fire sweeping down Khrave slaves.
As dust and sand rained down, Torghun Khan drew his curved power sword, his other hand setting his bolter to full auto.
He reached the wall, racing up the siege tower's steps, and vaulted onto the battlements.
He swept the area with bolt fire, diamond-hard shells tearing through the dazed, rigid crowds.
His gleaming blade swept in a wide arc, its shimmering energy shredding several enhanced soldiers.
As Torghun tore a gap in the line, suppressing the gate area, an assault squad raised their storm shields and charged the gate.
Rumble...
The iron gates held for a second, then burst inwards.
Land Raiders and Sicarans rolled into the fortress.
On the wall, a grotesque, primitive humanoid figure appeared, its limbs twisted outward, a nightmare born of obsidian.
It was like a rift in reality, protruding outward. As it raised its hand...
Seven different guns on the wall swiveled in unison, following the xenos' eyeless gaze, aiming at the armored spearhead.
With a silent scream, they unleashed a volley.
Bang!
A black vehicle exploded. It raised its arm, bolts of lightning crackling.
Black tanks and their crews below erupted, as if smashed beetles.
Roaring bolt shells, blazing ion beams, spewing melta flames, and shimmering arcs of light all slammed into the Khrave's raised telekinetic shield. The shockwave reeked of rust.
The Khrave's joints flexed. A flicker of colored flame shot towards Torghun.
A wave of heat washed over him as he rolled desperately.
Boom!
The shockwave hurled Torghun back; he rolled again.
Bukayo threw a pale black scroll. "Wind Walk!"
Cyan flames coalesced, propelling him spinning through the air.
He raised his left arm, bending his forefinger.
Flick!
A storm of ice-blades rained down on the Khrave.
A series of detonations: ice and flame clashed, crackling.
The Khrave raised its hand, an invisible pressure pressing down on the black armor.
Bang!
The protective orb on Bukayo's chest shattered, fragments falling.
He straightened his forefinger, the middle finger twitching.
A cluster of orange fireballs shot towards the Khrave.
The Khrave stared at the warrior, his fingers adorned with ring-weapons, a black breastplate on his chest.
Its eyes flickered, as if lost in the sea of stars.
"Ring-weapons... protective orbs..."
Torghun Khan rose from the smoke. 'Ring-weapons... protective orbs...'
He had heard that the Jokaeros could manufacture all manner of items, including ring-weapons and protective orbs.
But these weapons were limited to the mortal scale; they held no practical value against Astartes.
However, the Emperor possessed arcane techniques to command the Jokaeros to create ring-weapons and protective orbs for the Custodes.
As Torghun pondered, he saw Bukayo's fingers constantly flexing.
Flames erupted. Wind-blades swept. Lightning struck.
Energy clashes thundered. The Khrave's neck bulged, black veins surfacing.
Bukayo advanced steadily, explosions and brilliant flashes erupting around him.
The Khrave threw back its head, unleashing a psychic scream.
The sound bypassed the sensory cells of ears and skin, resonating in the primitive ganglia of Bukayo's brainstem, assaulting the surrounding, more complex cortex.
The "Spirit Warlock," Bukayo, flickered his eyes. The Khrave's psychic scream suddenly subsided.
He lunged forward, grabbing the rigid Khrave.
Bukayo swung his right arm, his fist smashing into the Khrave's head.
Torghun watched the corpse fall, then looked at the dimming light on Bukayo's ten fingers.
'The Shadows of Order's armory is truly impressive, they even have weapons issued to the Custodes.'
Rumble...
The ground shook. A pair of Warhound Titans strode forward.
The Asiatic Predator and the Hellhound, wrapped in incomplete aluminum frames, their dull eyes made of mullion-reinforced glass.
A pale light flickered. The two Titans, controlled by the Khrave Progenitor, raised their weapons.
....
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