Mechanicum

Old Stator died next, the preceptor clearing a path for the masters of his order with a gloriously heroic dash towards the black pavilion, his twin blades extended to either side of him as he charged. Ru

The last three Knights blazed through the path won by Stator's death, and Verticorda killed and killed as he drew upon the spirits of all the lord commanders who had ridden into battle within Ares Lictor.

On one side, Caturix rode tall, though his mount was on the verge of destruction, while on the other, Yelsic, his companion from the day the Emperor first set foot on Olympus Mons, still carried the Taranis ba

'The bastard's ru

'What did you expect?' retorted Caturix. 'He's no warrior. He's nothing but a coward.'

'He won't escape us,' vowed Yelsic.

'No, he damn well won't,' agreed Caturix.

Fresh impacts slammed into Ares Lictor, and Verticorda cried out, feeling the pain of his wounds surging bright and hot within his aged frame. Even as fresh wounds appeared on his body, he felt a sustaining power flow from the Manifold to hold him together, a gestalt legacy of heroism and honour that stretched back to his mount's birth.

The presence of Ares Lictor's former masters poured into Verticorda, eager to accompany him in its last moments.

All he could see through the canopy window were enemies, their twisted visages daemonic in the searing glow of the magma. This truly was a ride into hell, and these were its warped denizens.

'There he is!' bellowed Caturix, and Verticorda saw the shield-palanquin of Melgator surrounded by a cohort of brutal, ogre-like skitarii armed with fearsome beam weapons and flame lances.

The three Knights smashed through the cordon of enemy warriors between them and Melgator's retinue, their armour torn, trailing fire and spraying vital fluids. None would ever ride again, but with their final breath of life they would slay this last foe.

Verticorda shot down a dozen skitarii, and then felt the agony of sweeping beams of cutting light sawing through the armour of his right arm as though it was as insubstantial as smoke. He screamed in pain, his entire body spasming as the weapon arm was shorn from its mount.

Blood filled his throat and his vision greyed, but once again he felt the ghostly presences of his predecessors. Their ancient fury and fire was undimmed by the passage of years, and their will gave him the strength to carry on. Yet even with the sustaining power of the Manifold, Verticorda could feel his life slipping away from him.

Yelsic's machine took the full brunt of a volley of flame lance fire, his carapace wreathed in crackling purple flames from a dozen hits. Concussive impacts of grenades blew out his torso section, and the shorn halves of his stricken Knight exploded as it skidded into the mass of skitarii.

'Into them!' cried Caturix, seeing the gap Yelsic's death had created.

Acting on centuries of instinct, Verticorda followed Caturix into the scattered mob of skitarii, seeing the fur-robed form of Melgator whipping his shield bearers to carry him away from the rampaging Knights.

With the last of his energy, Verticorda shouted, 'I cast the lightning of Taranis at thee!' and together, he and Caturix opened fire. Thunderous impacts strafed the ground and blazed a devastating path through the skitarii towards Melgator.

A haze of shimmering blue light erupted around the ambassador, a personal void, but such a device was designed to protect its bearer for short periods of time and against the weapons of an assassin, not those carried by war machines as fearsome as Knights.

In seconds the capacity of Melgator's voids was overloaded, and the resulting explosion hurled him through the air. The ambassador didn't even have time to hit the ground before the sustained fire of the Knights obliterated his body in a fraction of a second.

With Melgator's destruction, Verticorda felt the presence of his mount's former riders fade back into the Manifold. The pain of his wounds returned tenfold and he cried out as he felt yet more impacts on his armour.

A missile exploded his knee, the one the Emperor had touched, and Ares Lictor fell. The carapace slammed into the ground and the glass of his cockpit shattered into fragments. Verticorda tasted blood, but felt no pain as he sensed the Manifold open up before him.

His last living memory was hearing Caturix's voice shouting his defiance to the end.

As Verticorda died, he was smiling, and the spirit of Ares Lictor welcomed him.

3.06

Blood and warnings filled the liquid before Cavalerio, telling him of shield ignition failures, reactor bleeds and a hundred other signs that his engine was suffering. Red droplets flecked the amniotic jelly, oozing from psychostigmatic wounds on his shoulders and torso, and bleeding from his nose.

He registered the deaths of three of his engines, but forced himself to concentrate on his own fight. Ahead of him, three Warlords advanced before the might of the Imperator, Aquila Ignis. The soaring creation had not yet deigned to open fire.