Chapter 913 - 912: The Changer of Ways: Sejanus Should Have Died... Change

Aboard the Vengeful Spirit, in the apothecarion of the Sons of Horus, the members of the Mournival, Ezekyle Abaddon, Tarik Torgaddon, Hastur Sejanus, and Horus Aximand, stood by with anxious impatience, watching the Apothecaries' desperate efforts.

Vardon had served as an Apothecary for many years, but never before had he felt so panicked and helpless.

Their father lay on a gurney, while saline solution replenished his fluids and stabilized his blood pressure.

Medicae servitors brought bag after bag of blood.

Another Apothecary, Rogan, stared at the electrocardiograph. "Blood pressure is falling rapidly. Heart rate is spiking."

"Cardiac arrest is imminent!"

"He still isn't clotting! Get me more Larraman cells and another infusion line!" Vardon shouted.

Narthecium surgical equipment descended from the ceiling as usual, numerous clicking mechanical arms carrying out Vardon's instructions.

The Larraman cells, injected into Horus's shoulder, slowed the bleeding, but the wound still refused to clot.

Rogan breathed a sigh of relief. "Heart rate slowing. Blood pressure recovering."

"Then why hasn't he awoken yet?" Abaddon demanded.

"The wound on his shoulder, though it looks minor, but it refuses to heal," Vardon explained.

"More importantly, we still do not understand enough about him. We lack sufficient knowledge of his physiology and bodily functions. I cannot even determine exactly what kind of injury triggered his current critical condition."

"The wound on his shoulder simply will not clot. He continues to bleed."

"I found some foreign matter in the wound. It might be some kind form of toxin."

"Could it be a bacterial or viral infection?" Torgaddon asked.

"The swamps on Davin's satellite are heavily polluted."

Vardon shook his head. "No. It's not that simple. Father's body is immune to such things."

"Then what the hell is it? I'm sick of hearing you talk in circles!" Abaddon roared, his armor trembling.

"He is the great Lupercal. He is the Warmaster. He must wake up."

"I suspect it's a specific toxin causing anemic hypoxia. Once it enters the bloodstream, it competes with oxygen and is absorbed exponentially by the red blood cells."

"The Warmaster's metabolism is very efficient. The toxin has therefore spread to all systems of his body, damaging his tissues, preventing him from properly utilizing the already low blood oxygen levels."

Sejanus frowned, trying to remain calm.

"Didn't you say Father was immune?"

"He is. But this toxin seems to have been specifically designed to kill him. It has a perfect genetic camouflage that allows it to bypass his powerful physiological defenses, maximizing the damage."

"In short, this toxin is a Primarch-killer."

"To hell with your Primarch-killer!" Abaddon roared, grabbing Vardon and hurling him against the wall of the operating chamber.

Silver trays clattered to the floor, scalpels, forceps, and bone saws scattering.

"I will not allow him to die!" Abaddon screamed.

"If he dies, I'll kill you."

"You're not helping!" Sejanus shouted.

He and Aximand stepped forward together, grabbed Abaddon by the arms, and forced him toward the operating-room doors.

Bang!

Abaddon slammed his fist into the head of a training servitor, shattering it and breaking off one of its shoulders as well.

Aximand looked at the training cage. Abaddon had destroyed four training servitors in twenty minutes.

Abaddon always used his fists to vent his anxiety. Killing was the First Captain's calling; it had become his way of life.

He smiled wryly, for the seventh time, disassembling and reassembling his bolter.

Aximand methodically assembled all the parts. He was more accustomed to assessing his own mood through familiar, repetitive tasks.

"Everything changed when he abandoned us after Ullanor!" Abaddon roared.

"He just walked away and left us to clean up the mess."

"Was some damned project on Terra really more important than us?"

He grabbed the chain-link fence, tearing it from its moorings and hurling it across the training hall.

Bang!

The fence clattered to the ground, sliding several meters, coming to rest before a pair of grey-stone boots.

Aximand wiped his boltgun with an oiled cloth. "Erebus, how long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough." Erebus, Chief Chaplain of the Word Bearers, stepped from the shadows.

"The Apothecaries are at their wit's end with the Warmaster's injuries. If we don't act now, it will be too late."

Abaddon burst from the training cage, confronting Erebus. "You have a way?"

"The tribes of Davin," Erebus said.

"What about them?" Aximand pressed.

"During the compliance of Davin, I personally studied their cults and customs, looking for signs of corruption or religious folly."

"I found nothing that contradicted the Imperial Truth. But what I found in the Temple of the Serpent's Coil is our only hope of saving the Warmaster."

The angry Abaddon and the anxious Aximand were captured by Erebus's words. His oratorical skills surpassed most Imperial Iterators; he had total command of tone and inflection.

"Their priests specialize in the occult arts of healing."

"That sounds like sorcery," Aximand said, suspicious.

"What I saw was not-" Erebus was interrupted by another voice.

"We have to take the risk. We cannot let the Warmaster die merely for the sake of some supposed purity." Maloghurst had arrived.

Ten minutes later, the Primarch's equerry, the members of the Mournival, and Erebus gathered once again outside the apothecarion.

After hearing Erebus out, Sejanus shook his head firmly.

"No!"

"We must not touch unclean sorcery."

Abaddon stepped forward, his Terminator armor looming over Sejanus.

"Sejanus, don't be so righteous."

"We have no choice!"

Sejanus met the First Captain's gaze, unflinching.

"No! I disagree!"

"There must be another way."

"I agree with Sejanus," Torgaddon said, moving to his side.

"Some lines should not be crossed."

.....

Beyond the veil, within the Impossible Fortress of the Empyrean.

"Sejanus was supposed to die…"

"Change…"

A face growing from the right arm of the Changer of Ways whispered repeatedly:

"Sejanus did not die…"

"Change..."

"Sejanus... Erebus..."

The face on His right arm burst, replaced by a face on His waist: "Sejanus... Erebus..."

Tzeentch's eyes flickered, and new threads of fate were woven.

"A new plan…"

"A new change…"

"All within my grasp…"

A face on Tzeentch's left leg spoke with pleasure: "New plan... new change... all within grasp..."

.....

Aboard the Vengeful Spirit, Erebus suddenly felt his eyelids grow heavy. He drifted into a daze, falling asleep.

Moments later, he awoke, his eyes gleaming.

He left his quarters, seeking out the Mournival.

"I want to learn the source of the toxin. It might help us treat the Warmaster."

Sejanus's eyes lit up. "Yes. I will go to Davin's surface immediately, to find the weapon that wounded our father."

"I know Davin well. I'll go with you." Erebus offered, eagerly.

The Stormbird descended slowly. Sejanus and Erebus walked down the ramp together.

Sejanus advanced quickly, taking in the changed landscape. Only nineteen hours had passed since his last visit to Davin, yet a great transformation had occurred.

The thick mist had cleared. The sky, once a murky yellow, was now bright and pale.

The stench had subsided, but the diseased trees were all dead.

"The Terra's Glory!" Sejanus again boarded the wreck of the rebel leader Eugene Temba's flagship.

He and Erebus walked side-by-side, quickly traversing the foul, dark corridors, reaching the bridge.

Sejanus's gaze swept over the sickening mold and tattered webs, settling on a strange, glittering blade.

"There it is." He strode towards it.

Boom, boom, boom...

The sudden roar of boltfire from behind made Sejanus stiffen.

'Were there still foul xenos?'

His visor flooded with the bright red runes of death.

The warriors of the 4th Company were dying, one after another.

A terrible thought flashed through Sejanus's mind. He began to turn.

Crackle!

A blade of light pierced his back, emerging from his chest.

"Sejanus, you will be buried with the Terra's Glory."

"Erebus, why-" Sejanus's right arm swung, striking the grey-stone armor.

"The Gods have chosen your death!"

Sejanus's fist hit empty air. His consciousness fading, he thought: 'Gods? Erebus is a traitor...'

Erebus picked up the gleaming blade, ordering the Word Bearers who had just ambushed and killed the 4th Company.

"Plant the melta bombs. Make sure the wreck's destruction looks like it was caused by an explosion."

Twenty minutes later, a series of explosions ripped through the Terra's Glory.

Erebus led the Word Bearers in a full sprint back to the Stormbird.

"Prepare for takeoff!" he shouted to the pilot.

Boarding the craft, he glanced at the rising flames, spreading across the swamp.

He switched comm channels, sending a mournful message to the fleet in orbit.

"Sejanus and I searched the Terra's Glory separately. I found the weapon that wounded the Warmaster."

"Unfortunately, the Terra's Glory plasma chamber suddenly exploded. Sejanus and the 4th Company under his command were buried in the inferno."

....

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