Leodegarius fought to keep his attacker at bay, but Terminator armour was designed for protection, not speed, and he could not avoid the Lord of the Unfleshed's savage blows. One shoulder guard was already hanging from sparking cables and torn fibre-bundle muscles, and his breastplate was cracked and leaking fluid.

Uriel vaulted the remains of the shredded beds, offering a silent prayer for the souls who had died upon them. His sword shimmered in the swirling light of the ward and he gripped it two-handed as he joined the fight.

Pasanius fired and Uriel swung his weapon at the Lord of the Unfleshed, the sword a shimmering arc of silver as it struck. The blade scored across the creature's hard body, but no sooner had the blade parted its flesh than the light raced to mend it.

The Lord of the Unfleshed spun and swung his fist at Uriel.

He ducked and rolled beneath the great beast, stabbing his sword up into its groin. The fiery blade bit into the Lord of the Unfleshed's body, and a strike that should have cut the leg from any normal opponent slid clear.

Pasanius and Cheiron kept up a steady barrage, but their weapons were having little effect. The roar of the bolters mingled with the howls of the ghosts and the bellowing of the Lord of the Unfleshed to form one, savage cacophony of battle.

It seemed inconceivable that one opponent could stand before four Space Marines and live, but the Lord of the Unfleshed was not just surviving, he was winning.

Leodegarius fell beneath a crushing blow that tore the Nemesis weapon from his hands. The Grey Knight lifted his other arm, but the Lord of the Unfleshed took hold of it and ripped it from his body with a ghastly tearing sound. Blood jetted from the wound and Uriel heard Leodegarius's bellow of pain over his armour's vox.

Uriel was amazed to see Terminator armour ruptured with such apparent ease, for such revered protection was said to be virtually indestructible. Leodegarius fell back, the pain of his wounding and the exhaustion of his psychic assault below draining him of almost the last of his strength.

Cheiron leapt in, ramming his Nemesis weapon into the Lord of the Unfleshed's back. The creature spun quickly, wrenching the weapon from Cheiron's hands, and smashed the warrior from his feet. The Grey Knight flew across the ward and slammed into the steel wall, falling in an ungainly heap and leaving a huge dent in the metalwork.

Pasanius swept up Leodegarius's fallen Nemesis weapon. Together, he and Uriel circled in opposite directions around the Lord of the Unfleshed. The creature's body was a mass of cuts and bolt impacts, its back horrifically cratered and running with blood and light.

Uriel could only imagine the pain the Lord of the Unfleshed was feeling, but he knew that he had to suppress any notions of humanity in his opponent.

Pasanius feinted with his polearm, but using such a long, heavy weapon with only one arm was difficult and the Lord of the Unfleshed batted the blade aside. Uriel darted in and hacked his blade down at the Lord of the Unfleshed's knee, hoping to at least slow him down.

Before the blade connected, the Lord of the Unfleshed twisted and clubbed Uriel savagely with an arm like a tree trunk. He flew though the air to land beside the twisted bed frames, the plates of his armour buckled, but unbroken.

He rolled to his feet in time to see Pasanius smashed from his feet. His friend crashed down beside Serj Casuaban's corpse as Leodegarius struggled to pull himself to his feet and Cheiron began to rouse himself from where the Lord of the Unfleshed had hurled him.

Uriel looked over at Sylvanus Thayer. The swirling ghosts howled around the man's bed and Uriel could hear the indescribable pain in their agonised utterances. A core of light, white, yet without any purity, was building around his bed. Screams and monstrous shrieks issued from the light and Uriel knew that he was looking at a tear in the very meat of reality, a wound through which all manner of horrors might pour.

He tore his gaze from the burning light, as the Lord of the Unfleshed's roars echoed from the walls, the sound a heartbreaking mix of agony, triumph and regret.

Uriel leapt torn and scattered beds. It went against his every instinct to leave his comrades in battle, but he knew that this fight could not be won through strength of arms as he scrambled over the debris of the chamber towards the bed where Sylvanus Thayer lay.

'I'm with you!' shouted Pasanius, rushing over to join him.

Uriel heard the roar of the Lord of the Unfleshed as Thayer felt his approach, and the howling of the ghosts grew ever louder. A din of battle sounded behind him and Uriel heard the unmistakable sound of something huge coming towards him.

Thayer's bed was just in front of him and Uriel saw the man's body beneath the filmy surgical gauze was as wrecked as Serj Casuaban had said.

His skin was raw and red, wet and horrific. Both legs ended in cauterised stumps in mid-thigh and one arm was missing from the shoulder down. What was left of Thayer's face was a molten ruin of dead flesh. Both eyes were unseeing and useless, artificial lids sutured over the sockets to keep them closed.

Uriel lifted his sword, the blade poised to split Thayer's skull open and end this horror.

There was no glory in this killing, no honour and no reward, only duty.

'Do it!' shouted Pasanius. 'Kill him!'

Then Sylvanus Thayer's eyelids flew open, a fierce light burning within the ravaged sockets, as though every ounce of his hatred of the living had ignited within them.

'Know what I know,' hissed the voice of Sylvanus Thayer in his skull, 'and then judge me.' Then the world vanished in a searing wall of flames.

Uriel threw up his hand as the flames roared over him, expecting his armour's cooling systems to activate in response to the attack, but as he lowered his arms he was amazed to see that he was no longer within the House of Providence. The ruined ward had vanished.

Instead of the grey, metal walls, he and Pasanius stood in a busy city street beneath a warm, spring sun. Hundreds of people thronged the streets, their eyes worried and their movements agitated.

Fear was on the move and the people moved in time with its dance.

Pasanius turned with his borrowed Nemesis weapon at the ready.

'What in the name of the Emperor?' he hissed. 'What just happened? Where are we?'

Uriel had been wondering the same thing, but as his gaze alighted upon a familiar temple with a bronze eagle hanging above the arched entrance, and he suddenly knew.

'Khaturian,' whispered Uriel.

'The Killing Ground,' said Pasanius. 'How is that possible?'

No one appeared to notice them and Uriel said, 'This is not real. It's a memory.'

'A memory? But Thayer wasn't at Khaturian when it was destroyed,' said Pasanius.

'No,' agreed Uriel, indicating the fearful people that filled the streets, 'but they all were.'

A panicked cry went up from somewhere nearby and Uriel looked to the sky as he heard a droning rumble from the direction of the mountains. A trio of cruciform shapes emerged from the clouds, flying low and slowly towards the city.

Uriel's enhanced sight quickly resolved the shapes into flights of Marauder bombers, each cruciform shape comprising of six aircraft.

The people of Khaturian began screaming, even before the first bombs were dropped and Uriel could feel their terror at the sight of the aircraft. Here in the mountains, they had thought themselves safe from the fighting and death that was engulfing the rest of their world.

This day would show them how naive that belief had been.

'Should we be worried?' asked Pasanius, looking up at the approaching bombers.

Uriel shook his head. 'I do not think so, my friend. Thayer wants us to see what happened here.'