TWELVE

Cleansing

Let the galaxy burn

God Machine

THE SCREAMING OF the Choral City's death throes came in tremendous waves, battering against the Precentor's Palace like a tsunami. In the streets below and throughout the palace, the people of the Choral City were decaying where they stood, bodies coming apart in torrents of disintegrating flesh.

The people thronged in the streets to die, keening their hatred and fear up at the sky, imploring their gods to deliver them. Millions of people screamed at once and the result was a terrible black-stained gale of death. A Warsinger soared overhead, trying to ease the agony and terror of their deaths with her songs, but the virus found her too, and instead of singing the praises of Isstvan's gods she coughed out black plumes as the virus tore through her

insides. She fell like a shot bird, twirling towards the dying below.

A bulky shape appeared on the roof of the Precentor's Palace. Ancient Rylanor strode to the edge of the roof, overlooking the scenes of horror below, the viral carnage seething between the buildings. Rylanor's dreadnought body was sealed against the world outside, sealed far more effectively than any Astartes armour, and the deathly wind swirled harmlessly around him as he watched the city's death unfold.

Rylanor looked up towards the sky, where far above, the Warmaster's fleet was still emptying the last of its deathly payload onto Isstvan III. The ancient dreadnought stood alone, the only note of peace in the screaming horror of the Choral City's death.

'GOOD JOB WE built these bunkers tough,' said Captain Ehrlen.

The darkness of the sealed bunker was only compounded by the sounds of death from beyond its thick walls. Pitifully few of the World Eaters had made it into the network of bunkers that fringed the edge of the trench network and barricaded themselves inside. They waited in the dark, listening to the virus killing off the city's population more efficiently than even their chainaxes could.

Tarvitz waited amongst them, listening to the deaths of millions of people in mute horror. The

World Eaters appeared to be unmoved, the deaths of civilians meaning nothing to them.

The screaming was dying down, replaced by a dull moaning. Pain and fear mingled in a distant roar of slow death.

'How much longer must we hide like rats in the dark?' demanded Ehrlen.

The virus will burn itself out quickly,' said Tarvitz. That's what it's designed to do: eat away anything living and leave a battlefield for the enemy to take.' 'How do you know?' asked Ehrlen. Tarvitz looked at him. He could tell Ehrlen the truth, and he knew that he deserved it, but what good would it do? The World Eaters might kill him for even saying it. After all, their own primarch was part of the Warmaster's conspiracy.

'I have seen such weapons employed before,’ said Tarvitz.

You had better be right,’ snarled Ehrlen, sounding far from satisfied with Tarvitz's answer. 'I won't cower here for much longer!'

The World Eater looked over his warriors, their bloodstained armoured bodies packed close together in the darkness of the bunker. He raised his axe and called, Wrathe! Have you raised the Sons of Horus?'

'Not yet,’ replied Wrathe. Tarvitz could see he was a veteran, with numerous cortical implants blistered across his scalp. There's chatter, but nothing direct,’

'So they're still alive?'

'Maybe,’

Ehrlen shook his head. They got us. We thought we'd taken this city and they got us.'

'None of us could have known,’ said Tarvitz.

'No. There are no excuses,’ Ehrlen's face hardened. 'The World Eaters must always go further than the enemy. Wheivthey attack, we charge right back at them. When they dig in, we dig them out. When they kill our warriors, we kill their cities, but this time, the enemy went further than we did. We attacked their city, and they destroyed it to take us with them,’

"We were all caught out, captain,’ said Tarvitz. The Emperor's Children, too,’

'No, Tarvitz, this was our fight. The Emperor's Children and the Sons of Horus were to behead the beast, but we were sent to cut its heart out. This was an enemy that could not be scared away or thrown into confusion. The Isstvanians had to be killed. Whether the other Legions acknowledge it or not, the World Eaters were the ones who had to win this city, and we take responsibility for our failures,’ 'It's not your responsibility,’ said Tarvitz. 'A lesser soldier pretends that his failures are those of his commanders,’ said Ehrlen. 'An Astartes realises they are his alone,’ 'No, captain, said Tarvitz. You don't understand. I

mean-' 'Got something,’ said Wrathe from the corner of

the bunker. The Sons of Horus?' asked Ehrlen.

Wrathe shook his head. 'Death Guard. They took cover in the bunkers further west,’

'What do they say?'

That the virus is dying down,’

Then we could be out there again soon,’ said Ehrlen with relish. 'If the Isstvanians come to take their city back, they'll find us waiting for them,’

'No,’ said Tarvitz. There's one more stage of the viral attack still to come,’

What's that?' demanded Ehrlen.

The firestorm,’ said Tarvitz.

'You SEE NOW,' said Horus to the assembled remembrancers. This is war. This is cruelty and death. This is what we do for you and yet you turn your face from it,’

Weeping men and women clung to one another in the wake of such monstrous genocide, unable to comprehend the scale of the slaughter that had just been enacted in the name of the Imperium.

You have come to my ship to chronicle the Great Cmsade and there is much to be said for what you have achieved, but things change and times move on,’ continued Horus as the Astartes warriors along the flanks of the chamber closed the doors and stood before them with their bolters held across their chests.

The Great Crusade is over,’ said Horus, his voice booming with power and strength. The ideals it once stood for are dead and all we have fought for has been a lie. Until now. Now I will bring the

Crusade back to its rightful path and rescue the galaxy from its abandonment at the hands of the Emperor.'

Astonished gasps and wails spread around the chamber at Horus's words and he relished the freedom he felt in saying them out loud. The need for secrecy and misdirection was no more. Now he could unveil the grandeur of his designs for the galaxy and cast aside his false facade to reveal his true purpose.

'You cry out, but mere mortals cannot hope to comprehend the scale of my plans,’ said Horus, savouring the looks of panic that began to spread around the audience chamber.

No iterator could ever have had a crowd so completely in the palm of his hand.

'Unfortunately, this means that there is no place for the likes of you in this new crusade. I am to embark on the greatest war ever unleashed on the galaxy, and I cannot be swayed from my course by those who harbour disloyalty.' Horus smiled.

The smile of an angelic executioner. 'Kill them,’ he said. 'All of them,’ • Bolter fire stabbed into the crowd at the Warmas-ter's order. Flesh burst in wet explosions and a hundred bodies fell in the first fusillade. The screaming began as the crowd surged away from the Astartes who marched into their midst. But there was no escape. Guns blazed and roaring chainswords rose and fell.

The slaughter took less than a minute and Horus turned away from the killing to watch the final death throes of Isstvan III. Abaddon emerged from the shadows where he and Maloghurst had watched the slaughter of the remembrancers.

'My lord,’ said Abaddon, bowing low.

'What is it, my son?'

'Ship surveyors report that the virus has mostly burned out,’

And the gaseous levels?'

'Off the scale, my lord,’ smiled Abaddon. The gunners await your orders,’