The Multiverse Project: Warhammer 40,000

Zhensu roared and swung her power guandao, the shimmering blue blade blazing, at the two Chaos warrior women charging her, decapitating one and bisecting the other. But these women were not simple cultists. The shameful realization seeped into Zhensu's weary body as she watched them collapsed to the ground in fountains of blood. They were like her, Adepta Sororitas, holy warrior of the God Emperor, fallen and blighted by the corruption of Chaos, forsaking the Master of Mankind for the black promises of the Dark Gods. How? Were they not unwavering in faith? Were they not indomitable and untouched by the evil whispers of the empyrean? These futile questions were cast aside as Zhensu brought her guandao down like a hammer on a canid looking daemon, no grace or style, sending fragments of skull and meat flying. Hefting the guandao up in a defensive guard, her heaving breathes sharp and short, Zhensu glanced around the great courtyard, tears of frustration burning worse than the stench of smoke, rot and blood. The heretic army, countless thousands in number, was everywhere, having brought their defenses low with shameful ease. The sisters of the Celestial Serenity had made sure that the Chaos cultists paid dearly for every inch of ground they've won, but like a tsunami they pressed onward, uncaring of the Battle Sisters' bitter defiance. And here she was, blood and sweat seeping through the crevices of her power armor, fighting a losing battle at the foot of the Qishi pagoda, the evil tide creeping ever closer.

"Gaoseng!" Someone uttered her canoness rank and she spun to find a sister of the bushi path sprinting toward her, blood pouring down the woman's lacerated swordarm, red drenching her katana. "The lower defenses have been breached. The sisters are pulling back to the pagoda, what are your orders?"

"Tell everyone to take every artifact they can carry and head for the mountain labyrinths," Zhensu told the sister, "and gather up our wounded, we're falling back."

"We're abandoning the monastery?!" The sister blurted, wide eyed.

"Our duty is to fight for the Emperor, not cast our lives away in an unwinnable battle! Now go!" Zhensu bellowed and pointed at the pagoda. The sister was taking off when Zhensu called after her. "Where is Myorin?!"

"Inside the pagoda mam, she and the other canonesses are gather there after the eastward battlement fell," the bushi sister said hurriedly then limped away into the shadow of the porcelain white tower, now wreathed in flame and smoke, cracked and battered by the heretic's overwhelming fire power.

"Into the pagoda! Fall back!" Zhensu yelled, voice hoarse from hours of shouting, guandao waving high in the air. The bushi and wushu sisters of the Celestial Serenity obeyed her command promptly, unleashing a suppressive barrage on the pursuing Chaos cultists and fallen Sororitas as the injured were carried back into the pagoda, but the foreign Battle Sisters who had answered their distress Astropathic choir paid little heed to Zhensu. There were the ferocious and exuberant sisters of the Golden Pride, ebon skinned women who fought with mighty war cries, as ruthless and fearless as the lion that adorned their armors. The other was of the Eternal Legion, fair skinned maidens clad in silver raiment and plumed helmet, the stoic and unconquerable discipline of their shield wall had broken countless heretic advances and brought valuable time for the faltering Sororitas to regroup.

"Get back to the pagoda, now!" Zhensu grabbed one of the Eternal Legion officer, a centurion, and spun her around, the woman snarled and was about to raise her short sword when she recognized the canoness, bowing profusely in apology.

"At once legatus! Fall back, timed your steps!" The centurion shouted and the square shield formation started trudging backward, the steps of every woman synchronized to the point of being melodic, kept in tempo by blaring trumpets. The Golden Pride sisters, seeing their allies backing away, emptied their bolters on the pursuing daemons and traitors before rushing for the hexagonal tower, their swift retreat contrasting greatly with the control withdrawal of the Eternal Legion. Satisfied, Zhensu hurried up the steps, joining the Celestial Serenity on the high ground, providing covering fire for their allies. When everyone was inside Zhensu ordered all six doors shut and sealed, she was the last person to step through the closing threshold.

"Zhensu!" the gaoseng spun at her name and was almost tackled off her feet when another Battle Sister crashed into her, armored arms wrapping tight around her torso. Zhensu allowed herself to sink into the embrace with a tired sigh, returning the hug. The fleeting warmth ended too quickly and Zhensu broke away, locking eyes with canoness Myorin, the koso of the Celestial Serenity. Their custom had perplexed the Golden Pride and the Eternal Legion at first, for the Celestial Serenity followed the strict path of harmonious duality. To personify this concept, their sisterhood has been ruled by two canonesses since time immemorial, one to represent the wushu path, the other to represent the bushi path. Friction had existed in the past, as was common when leadership was shared, but that was not the case for Zhensu and Myorin, their bond transcended simple fellowship.

"You're safe," Zhensu smiled weakly, swaying slightly now that the rush of battle was spent and weariness returned.

"So are you," Myorin, herself battered and tired, reached out to steady Zhensu, the koso's eyes widening when she noticed red rivulets flowing down the gaoseng's power armor. "You're hurt!"

"Trifle," Zhensu offered and, pushing down the pain blooming across her side, strode toward the center of the pagoda, the weak grey light of the sun shining through the windows painted the interior in a somber, funeral like hue. Not that far removed from their current predicament, Zhensu admitted bitterly. Explosion rocked the pagoda, the six barred doors, braced by sisters of all three orders, bulged and cracked from the unrelenting onslaught, growing in fervor now that victory was eminent. Zhensu, with Myorin at her side, was approaching a sarcophagus when two women intercepted them. Ibhubesi Naledi, canoness of the Golden Pride, and legatus Victrix, canoness of the Eternal Legion, their power armors opulent and battle worn.

"Honorable gaoseng, koso, it is good to see the two of you alive and well," Naledi nodded in greeting, her visage one of suppressed anger, "although I can't say the same for our situation."

"What do we do, sister?" Victrix now asked. Her cold black eyes calm as she gazed around the pagoda. "Are we to make our stand here or sally forth?"

"We fall back and rally with the Imperial Guard forces making planet fall at Wuting field," Zhensu continued onward to the sarcophagus, emblazoned with intricately carved tiger face on both ends, the ruby eyes gleaming bright, Myorin at her side with Naledi and Victrix following close behind.

"Nothing can be achieved by throwing our lives away here, the battle might be lost but the war is not," Myorin spoke up before the scowling Naledi can objects, Victrix's narrowing eyes reinforced the ibhubesi's sentiment.

"We are to run like cowards then?" Naledi spat, making no attempt to hide her disdain of the idea.

"There are roads which must not be followed, armies which must not be attacked, towns which must not be besieged, position which must not be contested," Zhensu recited the wisdom of war with calm patience, silencing Naledi objection as the truth of the words sank in. "We are woefully outmatched here, so the most prudent course of action would be to withdraw to a more advantageous position." She pointed at the sarcophagus. "I need your help, honorable ibhubesi, honorable legatus. Please press the tigers' right eye on both ends."

Trading looks, Naledi and Victrix complied wordlessly. Locking eyes with the ibhubesi, the legatus counted down to three and, together, pressed the ruby orbs. There was a metallic click and the top portion of the grey stone lid slid aside to reveal a glowing screen like that of a data-slate. Zhensu and Myorin placed their palms on the blinking glass, the Machine Spirit recognizing their genetic matrixes with quick sequences of twinkling artificial bell-like chime, and the platform beneath their feet started to rise, the elevated layers forming precise steps akin to that of a pyramid. Victrix cracked an impressed smile when a half moon gateway rose out of the ground, wide enough for four Battle Sisters to walk abreast with ease, beyond it was a stone stairway leading down into a lightless cavern.

"To me sisters! To me!" Myorin waved her powered nodachi in the air, summoning the Battle Sisters of all three orders and ushering them into the underground passage. "Take the mountain path and head for Wuting field! Hurry! The hordes are almost upon us!"

She and Zhensu stood by the opened entrance as the Sororitas retreated, some on their own two feet while many were helped along by their sisters in arm. Celestial Serenity, Golden Pride, Eternal Legion, it didn't matter, every woman aiding those beside them as if they were kin, united in danger and bloodshed. Naledi and Victrix joined Zhensu and Myorin, the four canonesses standing guard until every Battle Sisters were inside the dark corridor, their eyes narrowed grimly on the doors; the iron inlaid woods glowing white hot from the uninterrupted beam of melta, the black burning stench scorching the eyes and nostrils.

"Everyone's through," Naledi said when the door directly in front of them cracked open, the daemons' hellish baying poured into the pagoda, hungry and relentless, the incision quickly widened by claws and talons. The ibhubesi growled, twirled the thick, strange looking crescent sword in her hand, and got into a pouncing crouch like that of a lion.

"Then we must follow, come on!" Zhensu took Naledi's arm, uncaring of the woman's threating snarl, and forcibly dragged her toward the gateway while Myorin handed two high-power melta mines to Victrix, pointing to the spots where she wanted the bombs planted. After some reluctance, Naledi allowed herself to be escorted down the stairway, their steps quickening to a sprint when horrific triumphant roars echoed behind them. The gate has fallen, the pagoda was lost. Pushing down her anger and despair, Zhensu quickened her pace, hand tight on Naledi's own, Myorin doing the same with Victrix as they led the foreign canonesses through the darkness by memory.

"Myorin! Victrix! Now!" Zhensu yelled when the entrance became nothing but a barely perceptible pinprick of light. The melta mines detonated, momentarily illuminating the cavern's jagged, roughhewed interior as a powerful plume rushed down the narrow corridor and rammed into the four canonesses, knocking them off their feet. Zhensu landed badly on her side and cried out in pain, feeling something tear as fresh trickle of blood rolled down her hip.

"Zhensu!" Myorin was beside her in an instant, slowly helping her up to a sitting position, careful not to exasperate the injury. "Stay still, let me have a look at your wound."

"No, we must not tarry," Zhensu tried to rise but fall back down with a sharp hiss, cursing the abominable pain lancing through her body, so great was the agony that it rendered her immobile. "Fuck."

"Remove the armor, honorable gaoseng," a beam of torchlight banished the darkness, Zhensu had to shield her eyes as legatus Victrix knelt down beside her, the bright shaft of dusty white revealing dark red drenching her shanwenkai armor. Myorin gasped and Zhensu didn't blame her, there was a lot of blood. With trained swiftness, and a little help from Myorin, Zhensu unclasped and disconnected the various straps and wires and took off the armor with a relief sigh.

"The wound is deep and you're losing a lot of blood," Victrix produced a syringe with an evil, greenish liquid rolling sluggishly inside, Zhensu knew exactly what it was. "I'm going to use the binding salient, it will be painful and given the injury you've suffered…"

"Give me that!" Zhensu snatched the syringe from Victrix, stabbed it into the undamaged flesh beside the laceration and injected the solution. The result was immediate, her flesh, muscles and arteries rebinding itself with startling speed, but the pain was so great that she screamed in sobbing agony. Through sheer will Zhensu soldiered on, tears streaming down her face as Myorin held her close.

"A brave feat, gaoseng," Naledi nodded approvingly and held her hand out to Zhensu, who took it gratefully and slowly rise off the ground. Her side was taut and stiff, but whole once more. "Come sister, better not keep our flock waiting. I can see where they went."

"No," Zhensu strapped her armor back on and limped down the black corridor, her guandao relegated to a cane, Victrix's torch lighting the path ahead. "There is a task me and Myorin must see to first. You are welcome to join us, but I doubt you will take kindly to what we are about to do."

Zhensu and Myorin took off without waiting for an answer, but after a few steps Naledi and Victrix joined them, the gaoseng and koso were not blind to how the ibhubesi and legatus were flanking them, like jailers would prisoners.

"Care to elaborate on your meaning, gaoseng? Koso?" Victrix asked as they entered a domed cavern, the smoothness of the ceiling, walls and floor bespoke of clear human hands in its creation.

"It will be better if we show you, for I doubt words will suffice in explanation," Myorin headed toward a nondescript hokora shrine with Zhensu, a thing of pure simplicity in the midst of secret, Naledi and Victrix close at their heels. Trading quick nods, Zhensu opened the shrine's little door, no passwords, traps or bio matrix, reached inside, and withdrew a gleaming bone white statue of a serene woman, barely bigger than her hand, the smile on the smooth porcelain face was sad.

"What is that?" Naledi hissed, lips peeled back in a disgusted snarl. "That thing is not made by human hands."

"Is it safe?"

The four canonesses turned to the new male voice that had spoken, the torchlight revealing a robed man wielding a runesword, the blade pulsing a gentle red. Surrounding him were eight figures clad in bone armors of dark sunset orange and elongated helms of deep vermilion, all of them wielding shuriken catapults of midnight black, held lax and lowered, but Zhensu knew how quickly those xeno weapons can be brought to bear.

"No! Don't shoot them!" Myorin leapt in front of Naledi and Victrix as they raised their bolt pistols at the eldars. The xeno didn't respond, choosing instead to watch the canonesses in cold silence.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Victrix demanded. Her façade of calm cracking to reveal absolute outrage, "you consort with xeno filth?!"

"Traitor!" Naledi cried and was pulling the trigger when Myorin sprang forward, her hands a blurry shadow, relieving the shocked ibhubesi and legatus of their bolt pistols.

"Your goddess's relic is safe, Fanduin," Zhensu strode up to the lead xeno, a warlock, back straight despite the pain, and handed him the little statue.

"Thank you, gaoseng Zhensu," Fanduin bowed and slid the statue into the fold of his robe. His gaze drifted over Zhensu's battered form, a quirk of a brow alleviating the sternness of his chiseled sharp visage, revealing a glimpse of alien concern. "You are injured."

"It is nothing of import," Zhensu waved off his comment.

"You and yours will answer for this," Naledi growled. "When Victrix and myself get out of this cave, we will bring the full force of the Golden Pride and the Eternal Legion upon the Celestial Serenity and your xeno consorts. Mark my word you will pay with blood for this."

"A poor reciprocation, considering that we have just assisted the Sororitas in their retreat, thousands of your warriors will live to fight another day because of us," Fanduin timbre was iron as he fixed his sharp gaze on the ibhubesi and the legatus. "And are we not besieged by the Ruinous Power, the great enemy to us all? Stay your mindless prejudice and put your zeal to better use, canonesses, for I doubt the Dark Gods will make any distinction between Imperial and Aeldari. And nothing will please them more than to see us fight amongst ourselves."

Naledi and Victrix fumed at Fanduin but did nothing beyond glower at the Aeldari warlock, for despite their hatred for the xeno, there was no denying the logic in his words.

"This is madness, we do not have time for this nonsense," Myorin approached the two canonesses and handed the bolt pistols back, grips first. Naledi and Victrix traded looks before reaching for the weapons, and Zhensu tensed when they pointed the barrels at Myorin's abdomen, the koso was unfazed even when fingers started coiling around the triggers. Half a minute passed, which felt like hours for Zhensu, and Victrix lowered her bolt pistol. Naledi shot her an alarmed looked, but when Victrix simply nodded, the ibhubesi complied with a disgruntled growl.

"This is not over, gaoseng, koso," Victrix told Zhensu and Myorin sharply. "Make no mistake. More words will be parted about this treachery."

"And you shall answer for your crimes," Naledi added poisonously.

"Until that time then," Zhensu turned away and started off toward an archway. "Come on, let's us leave this place.

"Forget the caves. They're gone, along with the eldar relic."

The daemons and heretics stopped in their excavation of the cavern's collapsed entrance and bowed lowly, profusely at the approaching Chaos Sororitas clad in shimmering sapphire armor. Syrathel loved how they groveled, a most appropriate response for someone of her caliber.

"We can still pursue," mighty draconic wings kicking up a blast of dust, Azarvhin landed majestically beside Syrathel, regal and correct in her knightly posture. Syrathel was pretty sure the woman just love to flaunt the primness of her appearance, so contradictory to what everybody perceived a knight of Khorne to be.

"Let them have this small victory," Syrathel waved Azarvhin's suggestion off with a dainty flick of the hand as she strode deeper into the pagoda, screams of pain and indignation echoed across the once sanctified hall as daemons, heretics and Fallen sisters prowled the hexagonal chamber, dragging and herding away the False Emperor's whores for torture and interrogation. The Slaanesh sisters were giving them a firsthand prelude of what was to come. Their suffering made Syrathel smile.

"What do we do then?" Azarvhin asked as she cleaned her sword, Redwind, with a piece of white cloth, throwing it away once the steel was shining and pristine.

"To see my friend, we owe her thanks for compromising the planet defenses," Syrathel glanced at Mariel Sabathiel, the champion of Slaanesh and her cohorts had herded a group of Sororitas against the wall, a colorful bunch from all three orders, naked and battered, the women brought low under merciless strokes of snapping whips, flesh parting in streaks of blood. "Mariel, you'll have your fun later, come along."

"Fun? This is just a little bit of teasing!" Mariel giggled and handed her whip to a young Slaanesh sister. "Enough for now little Dalilah, get them back to the camp. Clean and tend their wounds, I want them pretty for tonight."

"At once, my mistress," Dalilah crooned and cracked the thorny whip, a dark skinned sister crying out when a snapping blade flashed across her right eye. "Move little piglets! Save those breaths for the real squealing!"

"I see she has taken quick liking to your mentorship," Azarvhin said drily as the three headed toward a destroyed doorway directly north of them, splintered to nothing thanks to the Forgefiend's Hades cannon. A garden of bonsai and stone greeted them, and the place might have held a certain tranquil charm if it wasn't covered in blood and corpses, grey and green now stained red.

"Have you found her?" Syrathel asked a Khornate sister who had just finished sawing off a Celestial Serenity's head, the woman's body still twitching from the pain inflicted.

"She's inside the well, lady sorceress, with the Corpse Emperor's ward laid upon it," the armored woman pointed at a sealed well at the center of a courtyard, six more Khornate sisters were prying the heavy stone lid open. "But we've shattered the sanctification and are freeing her as we speak."

"Well done sister, carry on," Syrathel strolled toward the well and the Khornate sister went back to mutilating the dead Sororitas. The trio was ten paces away when the Blood God Battle Sisters managed to push the lid aside and a hand shot up from the opened waterhole, fingers bend in rictus claws as it grabbed the rim. What emerged was a woman, pale as death, her white funeral kimono drenched head to toe in murky water, long black hair shrouding her head like a mourning veil. Bony cracks accompanied her disjointed movement as she crawled awkwardly to the ground and, with clear difficulty, rise to her feet.

"Sayako," Syrathel said simply as the woman slowly fixed her postured with more sickening snaps, realigning her body until she was standing upright and correct, as befitting a sorceress of Tzeentch.

"Syrathel," Sayako threw her hair back, revealing a beautiful porcelain face, cheekbones sharp and regal. "What took you so long? I was in that damn well for three months."

"We weren't expecting an Imperial fleet to be in orbit, so we adapted our tactic accordingly," Syrathel shrugged, then after a moment embraced Sayako, holding her firmly. "It is good to see you safe, sister."

"So do I," Sayako returned the hug and broke away after a few heartbeats, her lips drawn in a grim line. "It was nothing compare to what had befallen us in the past."

"Yes," Syrathel said darkly, letting the memories fueled her hatred and conviction. "You did well though. The massive uprising you inspired on the populace was so severe that the Celestial Serenity had to call for reinforcement."

"It really wasn't that hard, to be honest," Sayako snorted. "A few whispers here and there and before I even know it I was the high priestess of the Eight Fold Paths. We were tens of thousands strong when the Celestial Serenity threw me in the fucking well. Even inside the wet sinkhole I was able to manipulate events on the planet at large, their ward was no match for Tzeentch chosen."

"As it should be, sister."

"Where are the other relics?"

Syrathel and Sayako spun on the new voice as Mariel and Azarvhin parted way for a woman clad in a thick leather coat of greenish hue, similar to what doctors and hospitallers wore. She held herself with disdainful pomposity, straight back and arrogant, taking in Syrathel and her group with an appraising gaze, only to find them not wanting. Syrathel gritted her teeth, calming herself with mantras of control and patience as the woman approached them with queenly grace, striking and commanding in beauty, with alabaster white skin and pretty heart shape face topped off with an immaculate bun. And here Syrathel thought the Champion of Nurgle was supposed to be some wretched hunchback covered in boils, pus and bloods.

"Luscinia," Syrathel said coolly and inclined her head in a bare minimum nod.

"Syrathel," Luscinia didn't even bother with any bodily acknowledgement as she turned to an annoyed Sayako. "I will reiterate my question: where are the other relics?"

"Not here," Sayako took an instant dislike to Luscinia. "The Celestial Serenity are not stupid enough to place all of their precious artifacts in a single place."

"How many relics are there?" Luscinia demanded crisply.

"Eleven, and two should already be in our hands," Sayako turned to Syrathel. "If the chatter in the empyrean are correct, Meng Hu and Gosashi has already fallen, correct?"

"The two cities are in the Dark Gods' hands, yes," Syrathel nodded in confirmation.

"The reliquaries are inside the temples, you can't miss it," Sayako said. "As for the rest of the relics, they're scattered around towns, cities and monasteries across the continent."

"Then we have no time to waste," Luscinia went on snappishly and turned to Azarvhin. "Gather your forces and have them attack these locations at once."

"As expected of a servant of Nurgle, you have no understanding of warfare. Unexpected, but still sad nonetheless," Azarvhin sneered and Luscinia's eyes narrowed dangerously. "The Aeldari relics can wait, we need to deal with the Imperial forces first."

"You are only concern with satiating your bloodlust," Luscinia shot back.

"That and the imperative need to eliminate every enemy opposition on the planet," Azarvhin went on with tiring patience, one a teacher gave to a failing student. "If we are to move against these objectives immediately, as you have suggested, our rears and flanks will be open to counterattacks, which will greatly disrupt our supply lines and stop the various warband from converging." Azarvhin closed in on Luscinia suddenly, noses almost touching, the Khornate champion glaring at her Nurgle counterpart, beside them Mariel giggled and clapped in delight, thrilled by the impending violence. "Try to tell me how to do my job again and I will part your head from your diseased body."

"And I doubt you will find me easily killing," Luscinia retorted, one brow quirked and looking bored despite the threat. Sparing one last annoyed look at Azarvhin, Luscinia primly spun around and walked away, the stiletto of her heels clicking sharply across the cobbled path. "I wish you luck on the task at hand then, last I heard three regiments had already made planet fall, with thirty more en route."

"Leave her," Syrathel grabbed Azarvhin's arm, stopping the growling champion of Khorne from pursing. "And stay your temper, her support and that of Nurgle is, unfortunately, required for this campaign. I'll also be lying if I say the woman's presence hasn't…enriched our ranks."

"She's not very fun to be around though," Mariel made her observation as Azarvhin none too gently shook Syrathel off. "I've never seen a Plague God's servant with such hubris before."

"First time for everything, I guess," Sayako shrugged and glanced up at the sky. "How many regiments are arrayed against us?"

"It doesn't matter," Azarvhin snapped, making Sayako flinched. "Our fleet got them between the hammer and the anvil. We are more numerous and they are trapped, even with the unexpected appearance of a small Aeldari fleet, they'll soon be annihilated."

"What about those already on the planet?" Sayako pressed, doing her best to keep up an indomitable façade that was already cracking under Azarvhin's burning glower.

"Three regiments of Imperial Guards, a contingent of eldar warriors and planetary militias are all that stand before us," Azarvhin went on, her tone calming somewhat. "Janet and her Steelwall Brigade are moving in to destroy the landing party as we speak."

"Everything is in good order then," Syrathel took off and nudged her head for the others to follow. "Come along then Sayako let's get you back in your armor."

Minka Lesk gazed up at the sky and despaired. The heaven bled fire and rained hulking, burning metal onto the planet below, kaleidoscopic red, orange and white flared in muted radiance across the unreachable height above, turning the calm grey stratosphere into hellish crimson, not the most auspicious start to her first deployment as a captain of the 101st Cadian, but then again her first days as a sergeant during the Potence campaign wasn't any better.

"That could be the heretic's fleet going up in flame," lieutenant Dido, promoted along with Minka and now serving as her second in command, flashed a halfhearted smile, more to convince herself than anything.

"No, it's us taking the hit, see? The Chaos fleet's lance batteries glow a darker shade of red than our battleships," sergeant Prassan, the regiment know it all and one of her sub-commander, stabbed his finger up with inappropriate gusto. Minka shot him a disapproving look and he promptly shut up, but not before stealing quick glances at her, a coy blush rising up his cheeks and she rolled her eyes in response. After all these times he still has a crush on her, unbelievable.

"By the Throne Prassan, nobody wants to hear that shit," sergeant Viktor, another stalwart sub-commander, shook his head in annoyance. He and Minka had served together since the onset of the Gallows Cluster campaign, both survivors of the Fall of Cadia, both of them the last two members of her original squad. Viktor was about to chide Prassan some more when a huge explosion lit up the sky like a second sun, so bright that Minka had to cover her eyes.

"By the Emperor, that's…"

"Our battleship," Minka finished Dido's observation, her own voice becoming meek and breathless as ice shot down her spine. Although the entirely of the 101st Cadian was successfully deployed on the planet along with the 11th Antari Rifles and the 774th Vostroyan Firstborn, that battleship alone held twenty more regiments waiting to disembark. Now they are nothing but burnt corpses flung into the infinite coldness of the void, and although Minka was unable to conjured any sympathy for Gerent Bianca, her Frateris Militias zealots, the accursed relic of their saint, and the commissar sent to replace Shand, she now whispered a silent prayer to the guardsmen who had perished in such a horrid manner.

"How many managed to get off the ship?" Dido asked.

"Not enough," Minka tapped the vox bud in her ear and cringed when she made sense of the clashing radio chatter. "Beside the Golden Pride and the Eternal Legion Sororitas that had made planet fall a day earlier we, along with the Antari and the Vostroyan, are the only guard regiments on the planet."

"Hard fighting it is then," Dido sighed and offered Minka a reassuring smile, "nothing new for us, eh?"

"True," Minka nodded emphatically, not at all happy with this development. "And here I thought for once the odds will be in our favor."

"We're Cadian, nothing ever goes right for us," Viktor meant that to be a grim sort of joke, but it came out more cynical than anything.

"So captain, what are your orders?" Prassan turned to her expectantly, not doing a good job at hiding his rising fear. Minka hardened her gaze and let it drifted slowly over the three officers, her dearest friends in this wretched galaxy, before moving on to the Cadian guardsmen assembling in front of her, the 20th Infantry Company, her own unit. When the procedure of bolstering the underpowered 101st with other Cadians that weren't presence at the Fall proved infinitely problematic, with myriad of altercations rising from the numerous reputable sorts, high command had instead incorporated the various Whiteshields contingents scattered across the Imperium, send off-world to be blooded, to replenish the regiment. They managed to get the 101st up to ten thousand in strength, and the young men and women of the Whiteshields were of better stock than the other Cadian Minka have had the displeasure of working with. Now they all look to her, their commanding officer, for orders and guidance, wide eyes gleaming with fear, anxiety and hope, their trust in her was absolute and heartbreakingly misplaced. How many will live only to die the next day? How many of those hopeful faces will turn to contempt when they realized she cannot protect them? How many names will be forgotten before the day's killing was done? Closing her eyes for the briefest of second and taking a deep breath, Minka hammered out the weaknesses in her soul until only purest determination remained. When she opened her eyes again, all was crisp and clear, devoid of useless, trifle thoughts.

"Safeties off and fix bayonet," Minka raised her voice and was glad to see the company's collective spines straightening, taut and ready for what was to come. "Report to your platoon leaders and await further command. Make ready and prepare for blood! For the Emperor!"

"For the Emperor!" They responded with heartening gusto, their steps quick, if a little hectic, as they formed into the correct platoons and squads, all done under Viktor and Prassan constant barking encouragement.

"Nicely done," Dido smirked as she took her place beside Minka. "Learned that from Shand, did you?"

"You tend to pick something up from the commissariat when one is constantly lurking in your shadow," Minka snorted and did one last check on her battered lascarbine. The 101st had put in their requisition request and was met with silence from high command. Politicking. Just the thought of it makes Minka's blood boiled, "haven't been able breathe this easy in years."

"I share that feeling," Dido gave her lasgun a few good smacks until a satisfying hum reverberated from the rifle, physical force seemed to be working better than prayers to the Machine God these days. "Although no one will be raising a glass to his memory, I admit I'm gonna miss that grouchy, mirthless bastard."

"So would I," Minka nodded in agreement then tapped her vox bud. "This is captain Minka to high command, what are our orders of engagement? I repeat, what are our…"

A Chimera parked about a hundred paces away from Minka went up in flame, the blinding red explosion gutting the personnel carrier, the shockwave throwing her and Dido flat to the ground. Forcing the world to stop spinning, Minka crawled over to Dido and helped her up. By the time the ringing in her ears subsided, all Minka could hear were whistling shells, the thunderous demise of their war machines, and the scream of dying guardsmen.

"20th company, to me!" Minka and Dido shouldered their respective weapons and rushed toward the column of jittery guardsmen kept under control by their officers. To her relief, all of them were miraculously unscathed for the moment.

"Your orders?" Viktor approached her.

"Have we established any defensive perimeter since arriving?" Minka asked quickly, the pounding din was already growing in tempo.

"Just barely," Prassan said. "According to orbital scouting, there weren't supposed to be any enemy forces within thirty kilometers of the landing site."

"Won't be the first time the navy fucks up," Dido put a binocular to her face and scanned the area, now consumed by enemy bombardment. After a moment she pointed westward. "There's a series of low hills and ridges about a kilometer in that direction, it's the best cover we're going to get."

"Better not let it go to waste then," Minka took off with Dido, her company marching in sync behind her, their pounding steps creating a nice melodic contrast to the hectic din of war around them, "double time people! Forward! For the Emperor!"

"You're really good at this, you know that?" Dido grinned encouragingly, seeing how Minka's movement was stiffer than usual. The pressure of responsibility was overwhelming and suffocating, but Minka will be damned if she would fail in her duty as a Cadian. Not after everything that has happened.

"I try my best," Minka shrugged good-naturedly and noticed then that they were not the only people rushing for the hills. To her left, four platoons of Vostroyan Firstborn were matching steps beside the Cadian, the major leading them, a woman of fair complexion and envious beauty, gave Minka a quick salute. And stomping on their right were two Antari Rifle heavy weapon teams, they looked like competent soldiers despite the tattoos and feral appearance.

"Spread out and get down! Wait for my command, do not open fire until I say so!" Minka bellowed as she strode down the line of Cadian infantries, some crouching while others went prone on their bellies, the barrel of their lascarbines trained forward unshaking. When she was satisfied with their impromptu defensive position, Minka settled down beside Dido and watched the dark tree line eight hundred yards in front of them, the rolling boom of discharging artilleries sending ripples across the impenetrable wall of green.

"They're going to be pouring everything they have at us," Dido eased her finger around the lasgun's trigger, despite Minka insistence she still refused to adopt the company's carbine variants. "We can probably hold back the first few waves."

"At least we're not fighting in some claustrophobic alleyways and cities again," Minka couldn't suppress the shivers that come with the memory of Marquis and Potence. "We have an excellent commanding field of fire here."

"Incoming! Make ready!" Viktor bellowed across the intercom, and although nothing stirred amongst the trees Minka can feel the vibration beneath her, the tremor rising with every passing heartbeat.

"Wait until they are in range, hold your fire and wait for my command!" Minka shouted and braced the carbine's stock to her shoulder, eyes trained unblinking down the iron sight. Around them the Vostroyan and Antari were shouting the same order, the clicks of priming weapons echoed down the Imperial line. The trees were convulsing to the sharp snaps of felling timbers now, not that different from breaking bones, growing louder as black acrid smoke plumed through the evergreen canopies and rolled onto no man's land. Minka realized too late what they were facing as a Baneblade burst through the foliage and fired its main gun, the fiery back blast knocking down several trees and forcing Minka flat on her stomach, the roaring cacophony crashing like a tidal wave. A burning gale radiated behind her, and Minka turned to see two Antari Leman Russes reduced to gutted wreckages, three Cadian Chimeras laid around the destroyed tanks, flipped to the side or sprawled belly up, men and women scrambling to drag the survivors away.

"Oh fuck! It's an armor column!" Prassan's panicky voice drew Minka's gaze back to the forest where a wall of Leman Russes, painted black and red and covered in unholy icons of Chaos, thundered unopposed toward them with the Baneblade at the head. The Antari heavy weapon teams opened fire, the autocannon rounds bouncing harmlessly off the Baneblade's thick armor as a dozen half-tracks sped passed the rumbling Leman Russes, their mounted heavy bolters firing in unison, the accurate salvo throwing up earth and blood as it peppered their position, forcing the guardsmen low beneath the minuscule cover.

"Fuck! Where's our tanks?!" Minka hissed and tapped her vox bud. "This is captain Minka, we're pinned down on the western ridge with enemy tanks advancing fast on our position. We need armor support immediately."

"ETA ten minutes, hold your position, we're on our way," the tank commander on the other end said.

"I need you here in five!" Minka yelled then tapped off her vox bud.

"Contact! Infantries disembarking from the half-tracks, prepare to repel!" Dido cried out and braced her lasgun on the chewed up earthen rampart, Minka quickly joined her. The half-tracks rolled to a stop, unburdened by the Cadian and Vostroyan combined volley as a regiment worth of grey clad infantries, their movement trained and precise, battle hardened and disciplined, took cover behind the war machines or went prone in front of them, weathering the fusillade with stoic determination before opening fire. Screams went up around Minka as Cadian, her Cadian, were flung back from the parapet, many thrashing about in agony while some did not move, dead eyes staring accusingly at her.

"Fire at will! Fire at will!" Dido roared and she and Minka lay down a vengeful barrage on the advancing grey Chaos soldiers, cutting down a dozen before a salvo of bolts forced them back behind the parapet. Ejecting the spent magazine, Minka quickly slammed a new one home before glancing around the defenses. The Antari, despite suffering massive casualties, were undaunted by the advancing heretics and continued to unleash an unceasing barrage on the traitor guardsmen. Equally spirited were the Vostroyan, seemingly unheeding of the precarious situation they now faced, gunning down heretics with jeers and taunts. Minka gave a sardonic chuckle and send burst after burst at the nearing traitors. She wasn't about to let these other regiments outshined the 101st. Minka was reloading her last magazine when Dido grabbed her shoulder and gave it a quick shake.

"We got to fall back!" Dido yelled and Minka now saw how dire the situation was. Despite the Imperial Guardsmen's heavy resistance the heretic infantries were almost within charging distance, their casualties shockingly low and many already fixing bayonets, spurred faster toward the rise by plumed hat officers, swords brandished high to the sky in encouragement. Behind them the Baneblade and Leman Russes, having wreaked havoc upon the Imperial's rear echelons, the armored reinforcement never materializing, were training their barrels toward Minka and her men. "The order came from general Bendikt himself, it's a full retreat! We need to get to the Chimeras, the guards are rendezvousing with the Sororitas fifty kilometers to the south! We have to go!"

"Alright," Minka nodded, feeling a bit guilty for the relief now flooding her. No matter how hard she tried, commonsense always win over duty. "Fall back! Get to the Chimera! Go!"

In a surprisingly orderly manner the Cadian, after throwing a dozen grenades over the parapet at the approaching heretics, started falling back down the rise, Minka and Dido remaining behind to cover their retreat. They were soon joined by Viktor and Prassan and their squads, and together they made up the rearguard as the rest of the company retreated. Minka turned to the Vostroyan and saw that they were already on the move, having received the same missive. Craning her head right, Minka was opening her mouth when the Antari heavy guns were obliterated by a tank shell, charcoaled flaming limbs flew like grotesque comets, twirling and trailing blackened blood and ashes.

"Fuck! We're moving out! Deploy smoke!" Minka pulled the pin and hurled the grenade over the hill, Dido, Viktor, Prassan and a few of the guardsmen doing the same, within a heartbeat they were enshrouded in thick clouds of rolling smoke. "Follow me! Let's go!"

Minka led the squads back at a sprint, heads held low as lasbolts whizzed dangerously close. Miraculously, everybody was still accounted for when they emerged from the concealment smoke, but now that they saw the ruins left in the wake of the heretic's bombardment, burning bodies and tank carcasses in the hundreds sprawled in twisted, macabre poses as far as the eye could see, Minka wished for the white, foggy blindness from before.

"Keep moving, go!" Shoving the stunned troopers onward, Minka, with the help of Dido, Viktor and Prassan, herded the squad deeper into the graveyard of flaming metal.

"What the fuck just happened?!" Prassan wailed when their squads took off ahead of them, leaving the four alone.

"An ambush," Viktor answered, the barrel of his lascarbine sweeping warily across the desolation. "They knew where we were landing and struck with overwhelming force and precision."

"Never seen Chaos forces behave like that before," Dido made her panting input. "Did you see how they fight? Those sons of bitches put some of the other regiments and PDFs we know to shame."

"Maybe we can leave the speculation for later…!"

Minka had barely finished her sentence when cacophonic explosions tore up the ground around them, so close that the searing impact threw all four of them to the ground. Growling, Minka quickly helped Dido up, Viktor doing the same for Prassan, got into a crouch and swept her lascarbine around the blazing vista, finger coiled around the trigger, teeth gritted in grim anticipation. Flames greeted them, burning wild and untamed, devouring everything they touched, and through the hellish veil came laughter, beautiful, ecstatic, and amorously female, the melodic cadence almost loving.

"What in the fuck?!" Viktor hissed.

"Move! We're not waiting around to find out!" Minka waved her friends onward and took off into a narrow corridor still untouched by the raging fire. The heat was reaching its boiling zenith when the four burst into another clearing, steaming sweat sheathed their singed skin.

"We have to keep moving! Come on!" Minka led her friends toward where she thought the Chimeras pool was, trusting to her sense of direction as they ran near blind into the all-consuming inferno. Soon enough, she caught sight of Imperial Guardsmen, Cadian, Antari and Vostroyan alike, all going in the same direction.

"Well, at least we're heading the right way – ah!" Prassan observation ended when he crashed into a large shape clad in midnight black armor, the sergeant careened to the ground with a squawk. Minka raised her carbine at the armored soldier, taking aim at the daemonic hound helmet as it raised its hands in an urgent halting gesture.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot! We're Antari!" A man's voice blared out just as Minka was about to pull the trigger. "We're on the same side!"

"He's right Minka," it was only after Dido made her confirmation that Minka lowered her carbine. "It's the Antari's Stormtroopers, what are they called again? Duskhounds?"

"Yes, we are the Duskhounds," the man nodded as more of his troops joined him, clad in the same imposing armor, the barrels of their hellguns glowing white hot, more than obvious that they've been fighting through the fire.

"Stand down Cassia, they're Cadian," the Duskhound leader told his subordinate who was raising a hellgun at Minka.

"Are you sure?" The armored woman looked at her leader skeptically.

"Captain Minka Lesk of the 20th Infantry Company, 101st Cadian," Minka told them and snapped off a quick salute, her friends mimicked the greeting with clear wariness.

"Colonel Andren Fel, recently promoted to second in command of the 11th Antari Rifle," the man returned the salute. "Please to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise," Minka nodded quickly and ducked down when another explosion went off too close for comfort. "Maybe we can postpone the introduction for later?!"

"Good idea!" Andren agreed promptly and waved for the Cadian to follow his Duskhounds. "Come on! The evacuation is in full swing and they will leave any stragglers behind."

"Do you have any idea what is going on?" Minka found herself running at the head of the group with Andren. Dido, Viktor and Prassan safely sandwiched inside the heavily armored Antari squad. "I'm getting nothing but screams and shouts on my intercom."

"The heretics came at us from every direction," Andren told her. "They were well organized, well trained and backed by a plethora of daemonic monsters. Those bastards are nothing like the traitors we've fought before, the level of discipline and intelligence is alarming to behold, to say the least."

"Is it true there are turncoats Sororitas in their ranks?" Minka asked and sent a silent benediction to the God Emperor, asking forgiveness for her sacrilegious words.

"I don't know," Andren shook his head, voice low with disbelief. "We've been getting contradicting reports, both confirming and denying their existence. Personally, I think they're just heretics clad in feminine armor, hence the confusion."

"I am of that conclusion too," Minka agreed then let out a sigh of relief when the group reached a clearing where the Chimeras were gathered, loading men and armaments onboard before driving quickly away through the wall of fire. And lined up behind one of the Chimeras was her company, filing into the transport alongside a gaggle of unkempt looking Antari.

"Looks like Lydia's keeping the fire at bay," following Cassia pointing finger, Minka saw a willowy woman psyker hovering above the Chimera her company was embarking, a halo of golden light enveloping her frail looking body. Minka was just entering the clearing when the psyker, Lydia, started howling in pain, her levitating body convulsed violently as she clawed at her eyes with feral desperation, sending flecks of blood flying everywhere. Then the laughter, the same sultry, evanescent giggling that had plagued them throughout the retreat, returned, louder, nearer and more maddened in cadence.

"Contact!" One of the lookouts managed to yell a warning before a storm of bolt tore him to pieces, the volley heralding a barrage of rockets and mortar shells that rained mercilessly on the clearing. Already three of the transports had gone up in flame, gutted inside out and spewing forth screaming men and women wreathed in fire.

"Get to the fucking transport, go!" Colonel Andren waved his subordinates onward before ducking behind a stack of metal crates, his hellgun braced on the rim and pointed at the way they'd just came.

"Get everyone in the Chimera, I'll cover the rear," Minka told her friends, and after a moment of hesitation they reluctantly ran after the Duskhounds, yelling and shouting at the Cadian to hurry the hell up.

"You didn't have to stay," Andren told Minka when she joined him. "But thank you, I very much appreciate the assistance."

"Doesn't seem right letting you fight alone," Minka shrugged. "We Cadian have a reputation to keep, after all."

"Indeed you do," Minka couldn't decide if that was an insult or not, but before she could question Andren he opened fire and incinerated a group of charging heretics. Then the volley stopped, and although his helmet prevented Minka from seeing his facial expression, she could easily read his body language, and right now the Antari colonel was in shock. "By the grace of the all merciful Throne…"

"Colonel Andren?" Minka asked but he didn't respond, so she kicked him in the thigh, snapping the Antari out of his stupor. "Damn it colonel, what in the fuck is wrong with you?! What do you see?!"

"Sororitas," Andren muttered then raised his voice, the booming utterance carried clear across the vox channels. "Traitor Sororitas! Incoming, prepare to repel!"

Minka thought him mad until she saw the armored women sauntering confidently out of the curtain of fire, uncaring of, some even welcoming, the fusillade the Imperial Guards poured upon them. At first glance they indeed looked like Adepta Sororitas, but upon closer inspection Minka was able to discern the desecrating detail that had been made upon their once holy raiments. They were hued in purple and red, eldritch protrusion like tentacles, talons and claws sprouted from their brass rimmed armors, some of these extremities even replacing the sisters' original limbs. The ones in purple laughed and sang as they marched forward, the noises they make were melodic but abrasive on the ears, a sickening wrongness that poison the soul, while those in red let out shrieking war cries as they charge wildly at any group of guardsmen in sight, plowing through them with horrific ease, reveling in the kills.

"Minka! Everyone's in the Chimera, get back here now! We're the last one left!" Dido's urgent voice blared in Minka's vox bud.

"Copy that! Andren! We have to go!" Minka tapped the Antari on the shoulder, pointing back at the Chimeras when he turned to look at her.

"Got it!" Andren unleashed a strafing burst at the oncoming purple Sororitas and was following Minka when he pitched forward with a cry, his helmed face slamming hard on the ground. Minka spun around just in time to see Andren sliding backward, a slimy tendril filled with serrated hooks digging deep into his armored calf, blood leaking from the puncture ceramite.

"Don't run! We're going to have sweet, loving fun together!" A corrupted but unearthly beautiful Battle Sister, her entire right arm comprised of slithering tentacles, crooned maddeningly as she pulled Andren backward. The Antari tried to aim his hellgun at the daemon woman, but the weapon was bulky and he couldn't get a clear shot.

"Andren!" Without thinking Minka leapt after the man, hand outstretched, and managed to lash onto the Antari's scrambling arm. Digging the heel of her boots into the blackened earth, Minka managed to hold Andren still long enough to raise her lascarbine, took aim, and open fire on the fleshy tentacles. Despite the lasbolt less than reliable accuracy, Minka managed to sever the twitching tendrils, the Chaos Sororitas howled in outrage as she was sent barreling backward into a duo of red clad Battle Sisters. Minka hurled Andren up, the Antari tossing a krak grenade back the moment he regained his footing, and together they dashed toward the waiting Chimera, not looking back to see whether the explosion did any damage, but considering that no tentacles came darting after them, Minka took that as a good sign.

"They're here! Go, go, go! Get us the fuck out of here!" Dido, who was waiting beside the open ramp, yelled at the driver and stretched her hand out to Minka as the Chimera gunned forward. Minka managed to grab Dido's arm and was easily pulled into the transport's dark confines, she spun around and, together with Cassia's help, dragged colonel Andren in after her.

"Casualties?" Minka asked as the entrance slammed shut, shielding them from the pursuing heretic's concentrated fire.

"Fifteen dead, forty more injured," Viktor said and she winced at the number. That was almost half of the company, but the sergeant quickly added after noticing her distress. "Just some minor wounds and cuts, they'll be back on their feet in no time."

"Everyone here?" Andren asked Cassia, who nodded in the affirmative. The colonel then turned to a wild looking man. Feral and distrusting in appearance, he was kneeling beside a gaunt, unconscious girl, her eyes bleeding profusely. The psyker from before, "Wyck, is she alive?"

"Aye, she breathes," he nodded and got up, coming to stand protectively over the girl, snarling at anyone who uttered the word 'witch'.

"How many men did you lose?" Andren pressed on.

"twenty dead, twice that many injured," Wyck, a sergeant judging by the bar on his arm, pointed deeper into the Chimera. "They're back there, cramped up with the Cadian."

"Do we have any further orders? What is happening right now?" Minka joined the conversation and Andren tapped his Duskhound helm.

"It's a general retreat," he said, "we will be rallying with the Sororitas and heading east with all haste."

"Hopefully these ones are on our side," Minka said bitterly.

"Aye, I hope so too," Andren nodded weakly then extended his hand to Minka. "Thank you captain, I owe you one."

"Glad to help," Minka offered a weak smile and shook his hand firmly.

"Honorable gaoseng, honorable koso, the canonesses of the Golden Pride and the Eternal Legion are demanding your presence. Shall we send them away?"

"Let them through Lien, they are expected," Zhensu nodded calmly and place her tea down on the low table, her movement still stiff from the hastily healed injury, while Myorin, seated next to her, slowly sipped the bubbling matcha, glaring over the rim as the tent flap flew open and walked in ibhubesi Naledi and legatus Victrix. Like them, their visitors had shed the power armor for more comfortable attires. Victrix wore a sleeveless single piece dress of white cotton that reached down just passed her knees, embroidered at the hem and rimmed in gold, quite liberal in modesty, while Naledi was clad in a long dress and vest of spectacular red, green, purple and orange, her clean shaven head topped off with a loose golden shawl, quite ostentatious compare to the cheongsam and kimono she and Myorin wore.

"Please be seated," Zhensu waved at the table, Naledi and Victrix bowed, quite shallowly she noticed, before seating themselves down opposite her and Myorin. With a gentle smile, Zhensu reached for the steaming kettle between them. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes please," Victrix politeness was strained as Zhensu poured her and Naledi each a cup full, the legatus and ibhubesi unfazed by the hostile gaze Myorin honed upon them. The two foreign canonesses took a sip then placed the lacquered cup down. "Thank you for the hospitality, honorable gaoseng, honorable koso."

"Forgive me for being direct, legatus, ibhubesi, but what is the purpose of your visit?" Myorin spoke up and Zhensu shot her an angry look, appalled by such rudeness.

"You know damn well why we're here," Naledi hissed, matching glare with Myorin.

"And those personal guards outside are here in case we scuffle?" Myorin pressed on, unwilling to be cowered.

"They are," Naledi said. "As it stands, your crime to the Imperium is clear enough that no trial will be needed for you and your order. I am only entertaining this civility because Victrix believe a more diplomatic solution is needed in this less than convenient time."

"Enough," Zhensu said firmly, stopping Myorin from retorting. "If it would please you, we would appreciate it if this visitation is done quickly. Time is unfortunately not a luxury we currently possess."

"Your alliance with the eldar," Victrix calm utterance possessed a clear undercurrent of steel. "Granted, our three orders are unconventional compare to others of the Sororitas, I myself am no stranger to accusation and interference from nosy inquisitorial retinues, but to harbor and safeguard xeno artifact is an offense too great to ignore."

"We do what we must to protect the Imperium of Man, even if our methods are, as you say, unconventional, heretical even," Zhensu slowly finished her tea. "Would you like to hear our explanation, our have your mind already been made up?"

"Please continue, honorable gaoseng," Victrix nodded, Naledi was less than please but kept her silence.

"The Celestial Serenity are indeed allied with the Aeldari of the Order of the Solace Sun, because we and the eldars recognized that the doom of both our species is entwined," Zhensu said. "Mankind and Aeldari will either rise from this darkness as one, or be consume by it together."

"Did the Aeldari fill your head with that nonsense?" Naledi asked.

"We came to this conclusion through calculation and introspection, years spent divining for the true answer until at last only one remained," Myorin shot Naledi a poignant look.

"The relics," Victrix continued. "What is it purpose?"

"They belong to the Aeldari goddess of life, Isha," Zhensu made the sign of the aquila over her heart, the other women doing the same. "There are eleven scattered over the continent. We are in possession of one, but the Chaos forces have taken two after Meng Hu and Gosashi fall. Eight remained out of the heretic's hands for the moment, but I fear it is only a matter of time before the Dark Gods claim them."

"Why should we risk our lives for the eldar's goddess? Let Chaos take those relics, I say," Naledi spoke up. "We'll have one less enemy to deal with."

"Then you would be empowering the other," Zhensu said. "Those relics contain fragments of Isha's soul, the last bastion of power and influence she have on the material realm. Without it, she will be consumed by the Warp and remained trapped within its poisonous miasma for all eternity, to be tortured and defiled until the end of days, leaving the eldars, already susceptible to Slaanesh machination, more vulnerable and without means to strike back at the Dark Gods."

"And this Chaos invasion is here to destroy the relics?" Victrix asked.

"No," Zhensu shook her head grimly. "Isha is too valuable a morsel for the Dark Gods to simply cast back into the Warp. If the Solace Sun are to be believe, now that Isha had managed to flee Nurgle's Garden, she's free game for the other gods. If the relics are to be taken and corrupted, whether by Slaanesh, Tzeentch or Khorne, although I doubt the Blood God will take any interest in Isha, they can chain then feed on her raw energy, swelling their powers to unimaginable level."

"Now you see why we are helping the Aeldari," Myorin spoke up as Zhensu finished her cup, the matcha felt good on her parched throat. "They are the enemies of our enemies, and in the many millenniums since the founding of our order, they have proven themselves stalwart and honest ally, much more so than many of the Imperium's so call servant, if I might add."

Their words spent, Zhensu and Myorin sat silently, submitting themselves to Naledi and Victrix silent judgment. Tense suffocating minutes passed, the ibhubesi and the legatus staring at the gaoseng and the koso with hard unblinking eyes, when at last Naledi reached for her cup of now cold matcha, drinking slowly, seeming to savor the taste.

"You speak with reason," Naledi sighed and placed the empty cup back down. "I admit being hasty in my accusation. Forgive me, my temperament is infamous."

"Few possess the integrity to see their mistake and make amend," Myorin bowed lowly at the ibhubesi. "Thank you for your understanding, honorable Naledi."

"If I had cause offense with my thoughtless words, I humbly apologize," Naledi returned the bow and held her cup to Myorin. "Can I have another? The flavor is truly refreshing."

"I suppose we can stomach the Aeldari presence in the camp for now, it wouldn't be the first time me and mine have to work with them in close proximity," Victrix finished her tea with a despondent sigh, running her fingers through her short curly black hair. "Their company will, sadly, be better than those of the Militarum."

"What do you mean?" Zhensu asked, surprised by the legatus's statement. "What has happened?"

"Many of their comrades were slain by the Chaos Sororitas," Naledi said. "Their faith is badly shaken and now look at us with nothing but mistrust and contempt, seeing only enemies and traitors in their midst. Attempt to placate and explain ended violently, for the guards, not us, thank the Emperor, and their high command appeared more than reluctant to work with us now that they are aware of our fallen kinwomen. At this point, it will only take a kindling to light the fire that will burn our forces from within, leaving all that remains for the heretics to pick apart."

"Then we must stand firm in the face of such adversity," Myorin handed the steaming cup Naledi, "for there will be greater trial we must face in the coming days."

"Yes," Zhensu said grimly. "Things will only get worse from here on end."

The ration tasted like paper, the texture coarse and hard like the bark of a tree. Andren Fel chewed slowly, his teeth creaking as it grinded over the uncooked nutrient bar, all of them too tired to properly start a fire and too damn hungry to give a shit. After the disaster at the landing zone, the Imperial Guards made a hasty retreat east, fleeing the tireless heretic forces that hounded them ceaselessly, bleeding them with impunity. And now they've reached the Celestial Serenity's great monastery of Nokori, a large, spacious, city like complex enclosed by low brick walls, where the weary Imperial forces, having finally outrun the traitors for the time being, were settling down for their long overdue rest, but Andren didn't felt safe behind these walls, knowing who he and friends were sharing the monastery with.

"I honestly believe they gave us grox food by mistake," Cassia Tyl, his second in command, flinched as she swallowed the gravelly nutrient, coughing as she downed a mouthful of water after it.

"Wouldn't be surprise if the Ministorum fucks up again," Andren cringed after another hard swallow, the chunky pieces scarping down his throat like knives. "But at least we have something to eat, given the circumstances this is nothing short of a miracle."

"A miracle would be us getting out of this alive," sergeant Wyck, leader of the Wyldborn, observed glumly as he chowed down with ravenous abandonment, chuckling darkly between mouthfuls. "And to think we survived the Bale Star Crusade only to die on our first reassignment."

"Don't be like that Wyck. We're still alive, aren't we?" The ever optimistic corporal Yulia Crys smiled after a big swallow, nodding enthusiastically at trooper Jey and Haro, prompting the young man and woman to add their hurried agreement. "We can still win this."

"Always smile and sunshine, eh Yulia?" Wyck shook his head, managing to be both sardonic and good-natured at the same time.

"How's Lydia doing?" Andren asked Wyck, swallowing the last of his meal with an effort. After the death of the corrupted warmaster Serek, the sergeant and the Primaris psyker had grown close, much to the astonishment of the entire regiment. "I saw the damage to her eyes. I'll requisition a replacement immediately."

"I wouldn't know if she's alive or dead," Wyck growled, the man's infamous feral temper flaring. "Those Sororitas bitches took her."

"What?!" Cassia blurted, almost choking on her food. "When?! How?!"

"The moment we settle down inside the monastery," Wyck went on darkly. "I was making my round checking the Wyldborn injuries, took my eyes off her for only a few minutes and return to find her cot empty. Lye tried to stop them but the Sororitas pushed her aside and took Lydia into their camp, there was nothing anyone could have done."

"They have no right laying their hands on one of us. I'll get to the bottom of this and get her back, mark my word Wyck, the Antari won't let this stands," Wyck nodded with a grunt and Andren was adjusting his sitting position on the cobblestone when a group of Cadian walked slowly passed Haro and Jey, steaming tin bowls in their hands, glancing left and right for an empty space. With the mess hall not yet set up, the guards were taking any place they could find to sit down and eat, the regiments mingling. Andren waved at the Cadian. "Captain Araminka Lesk!"

The woman skidded to a stop and turned to him, her companions almost colliding into her. Their eyes met and the captain snapped him a salute, heels clicking.

"Colonel Andren," captain Lesk stood at attention, sharp and crisp per her Cadian legendary pedigree, her friends mirroring the stance with equal finesse.

"None of that please," Andren said, prompting the Cadian to stand at ease, their movement perfectly synchronized. "I would be honored if you and your friends would join us."

"Thank you colonel," Lesk nodded and took her seat next to Andren, while her friends shuffled with clear nervousness down beside the Antari, their little ring around the pale lumen light suddenly becoming quite crowded. "We've been trying to find an empty spot for a while now."

"Glad to help," Andren gazed enviously at the Cadian captain's sloppy brown ration. It didn't smell very inviting but at least it wouldn't be a pain to swallow. "And please, call me Andren."

"…Minka. You can call me Minka," the captain said after a moment of inquisitive stares, as if trying to gauge the motive of his friendliness.

"A pleasure," Andren threw away his empty packet and introduced the Antari. "This is major Cassia Tyl, my second in command, sergeant Wyck of the Wyldborn, corporal Yulia Crys, and trooper Haro and Jey."

"Nice to meet you all," Minka bowed after a mouthful of steaming brown slush, then waved her spoon at the Cadian, "lieutenant Dido, my second, sergeant Viktor, and sergeant Prassan."

The Cadian ate on in silence and the Antari were happy to let them filled their stomach, enjoying the companionable silence. It wasn't until the meal was done, quite speedily Andren noticed, that Crys struck up a conversation.

"So, I heard you saved our colonel here a couple of days back," Crys smirked, the incident was witnessed by many of the retreating Cadian, Antari and Vostroyan, and it didn't take long before the story spread, a nice little distraction from the disastrous engagement.

"I did," Minka offered curtly, like Andren she found the gossip to be nothing but annoyance.

"I would raise a glass to your health, if we had any," Crys chuckled and the Antari joined in demurely. "But all joking aside, thank you captain, we would truly be saddened if Andren perish after everything we've went through during the Bale Star Crusade."

"I was only doing my duty, corporal, your thanks are not needed," Minka mumbled shyly as the Antari intoned their gratitude, a blush rising up her cheeks, while Crys gave an exasperate Andren a cheeky wink. For all her carefree, some would say rebellious attitude, the Wyldborn corporal can be surprisingly sentimental now and then.

"The psyker that helped us during the retreat," sergeant Prassan spoke up and the mood shifted dangerously. The Cadian was oblivious to this though, despite his companions' unsubtle attempt to dissuade him from speaking. "Is she well? I haven't seen her since arriving and I want to thank her too. If it wasn't for her, we would've all been dead."

"The Sororitas took her," Wyck growled and Prassan visibly flinched.

"They don't have the authority to interfere in Militarum affair," lieutenant Dido said after finishing her runny meal. "Did they at least give you lots any piss poor excuses?"

"None," Cassia shook her head with clear vehemence. "They assaulted our medic and took off with Lydia."

"You should report this to your general," Minka looked at Andren.

"I plan to at the first opportunity," Andren said with steely conviction. "Lydia Zane is our kin and her fearsome power is needed now more than ever. The Sororitas will be made to see reason."

"Like they'll ever listen to reason," sergeant Viktor, who appears to share the same dour disposition as Wyck, spoke up. "Are they even our ally at this point?"

"Watch it, Viktor," Dido warned him while Haro and Fey made the sign of the aquila over their hearts. "You speak heresy, the Sororitas are pious and incorruptible, and to say otherwise will invite nothing but trouble."

"After everything that has happened, how can you still believe that?" Viktor was indignant. "Do you not see their kin killing us out there? If those sisters have been corrupted, then these lots are equally vulnerable."

"They're not. They can't be, it is blasphemy to suggest otherwise," Dido went on desperately. "The God Emperor protects, He will never allow the faithful to be corrupted."

"Perhaps some are simply not worthy of His blessing and protection," Crys offered placatingly to the distressed Dido. "I mean, have you seen these lots of Sororitas? They're all mysterious, feral and draconic. I wouldn't be surprise if they're hiding something sinister."

"Damn it Yulia, how in the hell is that supposed to make her feel better?" Cassia chastised the corporal, who flinched and gave Dido a sheepish apology. "Or us for that matter?"

"If they were traitors, we would have been dead days ago," Andren cut in with clear finality, killing the conversation before it blazed out of control. "Now enough of this nonsense, such talk can do no one any good."

"The colonel's right, talk about something else," Minka added before offering Dido a tired smile, the lieutenant visibly calming down and nodded her thanks to the captain.

"Like what?" Wyck leaned back against a crate and glanced up at the cloudless night sky, pointing at the naval battle flashing kaleidoscopically amongst the stars. "That? I heard from the radio boys that things aren't looking too good."

"Well, I heard differently," Prassan piped up and Wyck cast him an annoyed look. "The snippets I caught when walking past general Bendikt's tent seems to suggest that the battle is reaching a stalemate."

"Have any other regiments survived?" Haro asked with heart wrenching hope.

"Will we win?" Jey pressed with the same youthful optimism.

"I'm sorry, I don't know," Prassan said quickly and the two Wyldborn deflated miserably. "I heard only a few words, but we could absolutely be thrashing them up there."

Andren and Minka traded rueful looks, not daring to interrupt the Cadian and Antari debating with gusto on how the Imperial Navy were maneuvering in for the killing blow. Judging by the captain's grim look, one that was mirrored on his own visage, both he and Minka knew how hopeless the situation was, and that this could possibly be their last engagement. Andren thanked the rumbling thunder for hiding his sigh, and then remembered abruptly that there was no cloud in the sky.

"What the hell?" He and Minka sprung to their feet at the same time as lightning, so white and sharp that it banished the night and seared the eye, materialized out of thin air and cut across the sky like jagged lances of the gods. Around them the tired and battered guardsmen were stirring, rising up to watch the night torn asunder. Then the laughing started. Ethereal and omnipresent, the timbre feminine, melodic and mocking, the haughty reverberation coming from everywhere, especially the vox speaker units that were erected across the monastery ground, the planned hymnal service now hijacked by this disembodied voice. Men and women started praying, many falling to their knees, heads bowed, fervent prayer parting lips, the sign of the aquila held close to their hearts. Andren and Minka instead reached for their sidearms, having more faith in their weapons against this daemonic incursion.

"Get up! Arm yourself!" Minka barked at her friends and had to bodily hurled Prassan up.

"Make ready! Prepare for blood!" Andren told his Antari, and was happy to see them more spirited than the Cadian.

"You poor fools," the voice echoed across the nocturnal vista, the soothing timbre was beautiful and motherly, and Andren had to fight the urge to simply surrender to its treacherous warmth. "Look at all of you. Beaten, tired, a mere two steps away from the grave, and for what? A thankless Imperium than spurred your existence? An uncaring god that had since forsaken you to the enemies he has failed to vanquish?"

"Do not listen to them!" The Sororitas were rushing across the camp now, going between rows and groups of guardsmen who were gazing up at the sky, the lightning pulsed gently to the tempo of the woman's voice. The Sisters of Battle shouted and shoved at the guardsmen, drawing many hostile looks, but none dare retaliated against the heavily armed holy women. "This is a vile trick of the heretics! Do not fall for their lies! Trust in the God Emperor for He is your salvation and shield! Pray to His glory and grace! Do not succumb!"

"You will all die here," the voice continued undaunted. "But why choose such a fate when an alternative exist?"

"Do not listen! Trust in the Emperor and listen not to the lies of the Warp!" The Sororitas bellowed with clear desperation, because although no dark magicking was at work, at least Andren didn't feel anything teasing or plucking at his mind, the guardsmen were listening with alarming attention. The officers were beating those who appeared most enrapture into unconsciousness, but the fatigue and frayed morale has done its job, every eye was turned to the sky now.

"You are surrounded," the voice went on gently. "Your armada is moment away from capitulating, and our army, great and unconquerable, draws ever closer. Even now you must know the hopelessness of your situation."

Andren growled but could not disagree with the woman in the sky. It took only a single glance to see that defeat was not a possibility, but a certainty.

"Why persist on a sad inevitability, when you can escape such an ignoble fate?" The voice spoke with infuriating reason. "We will be merciful to all who surrender and cast away the yoke of the False Emperor. Join us in enlightenment and be free! To enjoy and learn all the secrets that has been kept from you. Simply give yourself…"

"Syrathel."

"To the Eight Folded Path, only within the…"

"Syrathel."

"Warm embrace of the gods…"

"Syrathel."

"Can you…"

"Syrathel!"

"WHAT?!"

Andren and Minka traded startled look, surprised as the matronly voice shattered into a petulant shriek, not that different from a spoiled teenager.

"A Warp portal just open up in orbit! A fleet is coming through!" The other voice, also a woman, announced urgently as sickly purple light bled across the cosmos, brighter than the flashes of battery fires and exploding ordnances, an abnormality invading the sanctity of the night.

"Who is it?" The first woman, Syrathel, demanded.

"It's…oh damn it all."

"Enemies of the Imperium, hear me, you have come here to die. We are the Immortal Spirit Battlegroup and we are invincible," a new voice interrupted Syrathel, also blaring from the vox speaker units, and Andren gasped when he recognized the distorted metallic annunciation, having heard it before during the Bale Stars Crusade. It belongs to an Adeptus Astartes, the God Emperor's Angels of Death. "Our soldiers will strike you down, our war machines will crush you under their mighty treads, our mighty guns will bring the very sky…"

"YOU!" Syrathel screeched. All pretense of decorum cast aside. "Out of every miserable wretch in this accursed galaxy, why did it have to be you?!"

"…Wait a goddamn minute I remember that voice…it's…!"

"Well, well, fucking well! If it isn't our favorite blue hair sorceress Syrathel!" Another voice interrupted the Astartes, a youthful and energetic man judging by the powerful timbre. "Sup bitch? It's been a while, how've you been?"

"Commissar Tangmo," Syrathel spat the name like it was something foul, and Andren swore he'd heard it somewhere before during the Warp transit, spoken in disbelief, jest and awe. "We meet again."

"It was only a matter of time," Commissar Tangmo was obviously grinning. "And here you are pulling the same old shit again. Oh well, I'll enjoy kicking you ass again like last time."

"You didn't kick my ass last time! I was winning! You got lucky! And this time I'm going to finish what I started on Tera-Antebella and make you die screaming!" Syrathel bellowed as Crys and Dido started snickering, apprehension turning to hilarity thanks to the abrupt shift in atmosphere.

"Fuck, I think I might have hit you in the head a little too hard last time, because I'm pretty sure you ran away like a little bitch," commissar Tangmo snorted. "Whatever, I'm more than happy to beat the shit out of you again. This time I'm gonna rattle your brain so hard you'll think you're still a loyalist."

"Do you honestly believe it will be that easy?!" Syrathel laughed haughtily. "Our fleet has this planet completely surrounded. There is nothing you can do to stop us!"

"Famous last word of every second rate villain, ever!" Commissar Tangmo cackled loudly.

"I am a Champion of Tzeentch!" Syrathel shouted indignantly.

"And you still can't beat me," commissar Tangmo pressed on. "That's just fucking sad bruh."

"You only escaped my wrath because that eldar witch saved you!" Syrathel shot back heatedly. "And if recall correctly, you were not successful in killing me either."

"Lady, you can be sure I'm gonna fucking rectified that," commissar Tangmo said darkly.

"Come to think of it, you've always needed a woman to rescue you," Syrathel went on insidiously. "How pathetic it is for a man to let women fight his battle. Then again, I shouldn't be surprise. All that boastfulness is nothing but a flimsy façade to hide your impotency."

"…Alright. That's how you wanna play it?! Fine!" Commissar Tangmo raised his voice angrily. "One v one me again bitch, round three, let's fucking go! You're fucking dead this time!"

"Come on then! I'm going to make you regret the first moment you ever crawl out of your mother's cunt!" Syrathel roared heatedly. "Azarvhin, redirect our forces and have them destroy the Immortal Spirit fleet please."

"Ha! We just destroyed an entire Mechanicus fleet without taking as much as a scratch!" Commissar Tangmo boasted. "Captain Solveig, get us into attack formation please, all weapons free."

"Oh, ho, ho, ho! You are approaching me?! Instead of running away, you are coming toward me?!"

"I can't kick the shit out of you without getting closer, can I?!"

It wasn't until five minutes had passed, the night reclaiming its dominance now that the unnatural lightning had ceased, when Andren realized the war of words between the Chaos woman and the commissar has ended, around him guardsmen were trading looks of absolute bafflement, unsure of how to process what they had just witnessed.

"What just happened?" Minka asked, eyes locked with his confused own.

"I don't know," Andren admitted. "But I believe our adventure just got a lot more bizarre."