The First Heretic

‘I see you,’ he voxed to Xaphen. Beneath him, squads of Word Bearers moved through the ruins of a levelled city block, pockets of grey armour engaged against a silver abomination that crackled with unhealthy energies. His armour’s receptive systems picked up on his confusion, and zoomed in on the enemy warriors.

Argel Tal still wasn’t sure what he was looking at.

‘Down,’ he commanded Torgal Squad. Acknowledgement pulses answered over the vox. Argel Tal killed his thrust with an instinctive thought – a flashing Colchisian rune on his visor display changed from red to white. With a judder, the jump pack’s primary boosters cut out. Smoke trailed from the deactivated wide-mouth thrusters as secondary jets fired, slowing his plummeting descent to a speed just shy of terminal.

He came down hard, his armoured boots crunching the road beneath his weight, sending cracks cobwebbing through the black stone. In a wave of howling engine wash and road-cracking landings, the rest of his warriors came down in a loose pack around him.

‘Stars above,’ said Torgal, gesturing over the devastation with his purring chainsword. ‘I see what the Chaplain meant.’

Across the ruined vista of tumbledown glass walls, one of the enemy artificials came on three insectile legs: each with too many joints, and each ending in a blade that spiked the ground with every step. Its torso could almost have been humanoid, but for the fact it was made entirely from moving glass. Beneath its transparent skin, circuits formed veins, metal bars made bones.

‘That has to be ornamental,’ Torgal said over the vox, as the artificial glided closer on bladed limbs. ‘I mean... just look at it.’

‘You took your damn time,’ said Xaphen. ‘Get into cover before it fires again.’

Argel Tal made a break for a nearby glass wall, where a handful of Xaphen’s warriors were crouching. They weren’t hidden, but it was cover nevertheless. The rest of his assault squad spread out.

‘It fires?’ Argel Tal asked. ‘Are you certain it’s not an automated statue, and you’ve been engaging some of the local art in a heroic battle?’

‘It fires,’ Xaphen grunted. ‘And it won’t die. Watch this. Malnor Squad, engage.’

From a crater ahead, several Word Bearers rose in trained unity, each of them opening up with bolt pistols. Shells hammered into the glass creature’s body, knocking it off-balance but inflicting no visible damage. Electrical force sparked where each bolt round punched home, detonating the shells before they inflicted anything more than minor kinetic annoyance.

‘Cease fire and fall back,’ Xaphen ordered.

‘I’m growing tired of hearing that order, sir,’ Malnor’s voice crackled, but the bolter fire stopped.

The creature immediately righted itself, and veered towards where Malnor’s warriors crouched in cover. The circuitry serving as its innards flared with phosphorous anger, and eye-aching electricity speared from its open mouth to dance across the edge of the crater, melting the black stone wherever it touched.

‘It’s made of unbreakable glass,’ Torgal voxed, ‘and it vomits lightning. The primarch was right to order these people dead. They are more than heretics – they forge insanity into physical form.’

Argel Tal swore softly as he listened to vox-reports of Legion squads encountering these things all over the city. With the capital’s protective shield down, he’d expected this to be easy. The planetary leaders were supposed to dead, damn it. Why wasn’t resistance crumbling?

‘Torgal Squad, to higher ground.’

‘By your word, captain,’ chorused the loyal responses. Heat haze rippled the air around each warrior as their bulky jump thrusters cycled back to life. The air was rich with charcoalish engine-stink.

Argel Tal boosted up, straight as a spear, coming down on a balcony overlooking the ruined street. The warriors of Torgal Squad followed, finding their own perches on the edges of nearby rooftops. Grey gargoyles, watching the battle below.

‘How many have you destroyed so far?’ asked Argel Tal.

‘Three, but two were downed by a Vindicator from Firestorm.’ Xaphen referred to the Serrated Sun’s armour battalion.

‘Don’t tell me the tank was destroyed.’

Malnor answered this time. ‘Then I won’t tell you, captain. But it’s not here anymore.’

Argel Tal watched the artificial stalking closer, maintaining its inhuman balance on those multi-jointed legs despite the punishing terrain. His visor zoomed in deep, clearing after a moment’s distortion. Silver veins threaded through the construct’s torso, flickering with power. Its skin moved like liquid glass, yet bolter shells sparked aside, as harmless as rainfall.

‘You said you’ve killed three of these, but the tanks destroyed two.’

‘I killed the third with my crozius,’ Xaphen replied. ‘The constructs seem vulnerable to power weapons.’

‘Understood. Leave this one to us.’ Argel Tal refocused his visor. ‘Torgal Squad, at the ready. We’ll fight fire with fire.’

‘By your word,’ came the voice chorus again.