C. Goto - Dawn of War

“This is not the end, Blood Raven,” spat Bale as he slumped to the ground, sliding his weight along the grinding teeth of the chainsword and splashing blood into Gabriel’s face. “No, this dawn is the dawn of a new war…” His voice trailed off as the dark light faded from his eyes and his mouth fell open in a last gasp of horror.

Gabriel pulled his chainsword clear of the dead Chaos Lord, its spluttering teeth spitting droplets of blood and gore across the courtyard. The huge stomach wound was pouring with blood, rapidly forming a wide pool around the fallen Marine. But Gabriel noticed the danger too late, and the blood seeped its way into the blood grooves cut into the flagstones and started to race along towards the hole in the centre of the courtyard.

Intuitively, Gabriel sprinted for the cloisters, launching himself off his feet just as the stream of Bale’s blood poured into the hole and cascaded down into the reservoir below like a waterfall. The purple energy field around the courtyard exploded in a brilliant flash of light, and the flagstones on the floor vaporised immediately, sending jets of steam fizzing into the sky. The corpses of the cultists slipped into freefall, tumbling down into the lake of blood below.

As the commotion died down, a pillar started to rise out of the subterranean lake, grinding up towards the gap where the courtyard had once been. It rumbled into place, like a peg filling a round hole, sealing the courtyard once again. The stone of the new floor was stained a deep red, from centuries of submersion beneath a sea of blood. In its centre was a small altar, pristine and white, as though untouched by the hideous taint of its surroundings. And on this altar rested a small gemstone, glowing red with unearthly powers, as though lit by the fires of hell itself.

Drawn by the ungodly noise, Matiel came storming into the cloisters from the nave, accompanied by two Space Marines. They ran over to Gabriel and Mordecai, pushing the piles of debris and masonry off them and helping them to their feet.

“What happened, captain?” asked Matiel. But Gabriel was staring over the sergeant’s shoulder into the courtyard beyond. There, on the other side, just emerged from the shadows of the cloisters, stood Isador. The Librarian appeared to be muttering to himself, staring at the ground, whispering and twitching his head, as though fighting with his own private daemons.

“Old friend,” called Gabriel, pushing Matiel gently aside and stepping out into the courtyard once again.

The Librarian stopped mumbling and raised his eyes, meeting those of Gabriel for a moment. Then, in a sudden movement, Isador raised his arm into the air, and the Maledictum stone flashed across the courtyard into his hand. Gabriel saw his friend’s eyes switch from icy blue into a blaze of reds and golds, burning with hellfire. A crackling purple energy field erupted around Isador’s armour, as the Librarian slowly lowered his arm, pointing it towards his oldest friend.

Gabriel dived to one side, drawing his bolt pistol as he rolled. Flipping back onto his feet, the captain snatched off three shots. At the same time, shots echoed out from Matiel and Mordecai. The shells punched into Isador, staggering him and making him stumble backwards. But then the force field around him flared with even greater energy, and he pulled himself upright again.

By this time, Gabriel had broken into a run, charging towards his onetime friend, firing a stream of bullets. The shells pummelled into the field around Isador, but then a great explosion erupted under the impacts, throwing Gabriel off his feet and back towards the Blood Ravens in the cloisters.

When he stood up and looked back across the courtyard, Librarian Isador Akios had vanished.

C.S. Goto (ebook by Undead)

01 – Dawn of War

The voices echoed and rang, as though being chanted in the great vaulted spaces of an ancient cathedral. They were pristine and perfect, like points of silver starlight in the dead of the night, guiding travellers home and keeping them away from danger. And they soared, filling Gabriel’s head with spirals of glittering faces as the choir of the Astronomican cycled through his mind, growing louder and louder as though drawing closer with every passing second.

And then the shift: the faces palled into mutation, their flesh running from their skulls as though melted by some immense heat, and their song was transformed into a cacophony of screams. But Gabriel was ready for his vision this time, and held his nerve, letting the abhorrent images spiral and swim, whirling into a cyclone of guilt and doubt. And there, gradually forming from the drips and tears of rendered flesh, swirling into focus in their core, there was the face of his friend. Isador stared back at him from his own consciousness, his face ripped and scarred, with tears of blood cascading down his cheeks.

A gentle pressure landed on his shoulder, and Gabriel flicked open his eyes. Chaplain Prathios stood before him, his hand resting firmly against Gabriel’s armour, and his wise eyes staring down at the captain, filled with compassion.

“I am sorry, Gabriel,” said the Chaplain in barely audible tones.

“He was a finer man than I am, Prathios. A more powerful warrior, and a devoted servant of the Emperor,” confessed Gabriel, unable to hold the Chaplain’s gaze for long.

“We all admired him, Gabriel,” replied Prathios simply, nodding his head towards the other Blood Ravens.

Kneeling in front of the ruins of the Emperor’s altar in the Temple of Dannan, Gabriel looked back over his shoulder. Matiel and Tanthius bowed their heads, each kneeling at the front of their squads, filling the centre of the nave with two brilliant columns of crimson armour, each Marine perched reverently on one knee with their helmets on the ground next to them.

The battle for the temple had not outlasted the death of the Chaos Lord. The Alpha Legionaries in the nave had been rapidly overrun, attacked from the front by the Terminators and Ckrius’ storm troopers, and from behind by Matiel’s Space Marines. In the end, it seemed that the Alpha Legion had left only a small force in the temple to defend their lord-although Mordecai was certain that this was because the bulk of the Chaos Marines had left with the sorcerer, slipping out of the temple through one of the many subterranean tunnels.

Gabriel rose to his feet and turned to face the assembly. Hidden in the shadows of the side aisles, he could see Sergeant Ckrius and his storm troopers-each standing to attention, but with their heads bowed, helmets tucked under their arms. And standing on his own in the opposite aisle was Mordecai, his warhammer slung casually over his shoulder, leaning back against the wall. He was an inquisitor, after all, reflected Gabriel, and not prone to feelings of regret or forgiveness.

“I knew Librarian Akios from the first moments that I donned the sacred armour of the Blood Ravens,” said Gabriel, addressing his men as though his old friend had died in the service of the Emperor. In a manner of speaking, he had died. If only he had died, thought Gabriel. The faces of the assembled Marines looked up to him, waiting for his words. “I knew him before then-as young warriors on the planet of Cyrene. He was a greater soldier than I ever was, and a wiser man. I have seen the powers of Librarians many times over the long decades of my service, but never have I seen a Blood Raven wield the kind of raw power, ability and will that was possessed by Isador. He saved my life many times, and was a guardian of my soul. He will be missed… I will miss him,” said Gabriel, his voice drifting off as his emotions caught up with him.

“But the Emperor’s justice is even-none may escape it. The Adeptus Astartes carry the wrath of the Emperor to all parts of the galaxy, visiting his righteous retribution against all those who turn against him. There can be no exceptions. Not even for a servant as loyal and devoted as Librarian Akios,” and not even for the innocent souls hidden in the midst of a cursed planet, added Gabriel in his mind. “The Blood Ravens prove their worth only in the face of the enemy, and even more so when this enemy is close to our hearts. Isador, my friend, is dead-and I vow here and now to liberate his body to this realisation.”