Vex Chronicles 4: Zeal

The ritual

Factory-City-2, rust fields, excavation site

Elsbeth's blade cleaved through the beastman's chest. The body hadn't even hit the ground when her bolter felled another one. Some of the defenders had been recalled into the main building. And the remaining forces hadn't been enough to prevent the ruthless advance of the sisters. The path was clear.

"Corra," Vex whispered next to Hasthia. "Take over the drones, hunt the remaining beasts." Vex turned towards the palatine. "My gun drones will guard our rear. March in."

Elsbeth nodded. But it was Markos who was first at the door. And Hasthia was right behind him. The honorblade kicked it open and Hasthia darted in, ready to cast out her shield.

The room spanned nearly the entirety of the hall. Extensive work had been done to turned into a chapel in St. Antonius name. And it wasn't a temporary thing. Hasthia could clearly feel the emotions of worship linger. It was a true place of faith not just by looks. Tapestry hung on the walls like colorful windows of stained glass. Chairs were lined up like the rows of pews, facing an improvised stage around altar and a series of small pulpits. Only the heavy industrial vehicles in the entrance ruined the impression.

At first the incense tricked Hasthia. But then the smell of blood and guts hit her like a hammer. Robed men and women laid among the chairs, cut apart into bloody pulp. Beastmen moved through the rows with bloody melee weapons, cutting those down that still stood. Hasthia gasped as her senses fully found their aura. The furred slaughterers had been touched by the warp. And many already showed the mutations of prolonged exposure to the otherworld. Bone spikes broke through skin, fingers ended in claws and worse – if the arms even ended in hands and not clubs of flesh and bone.

Some victims just stared at their executioners in utter disbelieve. Others tried to flee in utter panic, just to be gunned down by occisor skitarii that guarded the improvised stage. On the stage itself stood the burnt heretek, splashing blood over the altar in front of him.

Beside the heretek stood Carmino on a low wooden pulpit, madly stammering words of prayer that felt so out of place amid the slaughterhouse. Warp energies converged around him. And Hasthia realized that the arch-confessor held great importance to this twisted ritual.

With every slash of blood Hasthia could feel a shudder race through the air. The ritual was in full effect. But it wasn't the heretek who maintained it. Hasthia could clearly feel the narrow beam of tainted devotion that shoot like a beam into the sky, guided by the burnt one. The power that fueled the beam was deeper in the soil. But Hasthia could feel it ebb. If the grand prayer would remain safe, the ritual was doomed to fail.

Hasthia growled as she pulled from her reserves. Strength flooded from the hardened soil into her bare soles. And the shaman erected her barrier.

"We have to interrupt the ritual," Vex thundered. "Forward!"

"You heard the inquisitor," Elsbeth hollered. "Advance! Faith and flames will cleanse the heretics."

The sisters of battle dashed into cover behind the industrial vehicles and their guns opened fire. Bolters and the palatine's plasma pistol hurled death at the stage. Occisor skitarii were ripped apart. But the shots aimed at the heretek only landed harmlessly on his personal power field. The sister with the flamer aimed into the rows of chairs, purifying the cut down bodies and bathing the beastman cultists in blessed promethium.

Soil hardened in Hasthia's hand as she gathered her reserves. With a gesture she threw her stone spear towards the stage. But the twisted creature that was Tymiclast slashed the shot out of the air. Ravenous eyes fell onto the lizard mutant and Hasthia shuddered and she felt as if hungry leeches crawled all over her very soul, ready to drain her dry.