The Lectitio Divinitatus was under threat and the faithful had to be defended. He almost laughed aloud as the thought formed, but what he had seen on the Medicae deck had only deepened the strength of his conviction that he had chosen the right path.

The Titan was a symbol of that strength, an avatar of divine wrath, a god-machine that brought the Emperor's judgement to the sinners of Isstvan.

The Emperor protects,’ whispered Cassar, his voice drifting down through the layers of readouts in his mind, 'and he destroys.' 'Does he now?'

Cassar snapped out of his thoughts and the Titan's systems retreated beneath his consciousness. He looked up in sudden panic, but let out a relieved breath as he saw Moderati Aruken standing over him.

Aruken snapped a switch and the bridge lights flickered to life. 'Be careful who hears you, Titus, now more than ever,’

'I was running through pre-battle checks,’ said Cassar.

'Of course you were, Titus. If Princeps Turnet hears you saying things like that you'll be for it,’

'My thoughts are my own, Jonah. Not even the princeps can deny me that,’

'You really believe that? Come on, Titus. You know full well this cult stuff isn't welcome. We were lucky on the Medicae deck, but this is bigger than you and me and it's getting too dangerous,’

*We can't back away from it now,’ said Cassar, 'not after what we saw,’

'I'm not even sure what I saw,’ said Aruken defensively.

'You're joking, surely?'

'No,’ insisted Araken, 'I'm not. Look, I'm telling you this because you're a good man and the Dies Irae will suffer if you're not here. She needs a good crew and you're part of it,’

'Don't change the subject,’ said Cassar. 'We both know that what we saw on the Medicae deck was a miracle. You have to accept that before the Emperor can enter your heart,’

'Listen, I've been hearing some scuttlebutt on the deck, Titus,’ said Aruken, leaning closer. Turner's been asking questions: about us. He's asking about how deep this runs, as though we're part of some hidden conspiracy. It's as if he doesn't trust us any more,’

'Let him come,’

'You don't understand. When we're in battle we're a good team, and if we get... I don't know... thrown in a cell or worse, that team gets broken up and there isn't a better crew for the Dies Irae than us. Don't let this saint business break that up. The Crusade will suffer for it,’

'My faith won't allow me to make compromises, Jonah,’

'Well that's all it is,’ snapped Aruken. 'Your faith,’

'No,’ s.aid Titus, shaking his head. 'It's your faith too, Jonah, you just don't know it yet,’

Aruken didn't answer and slumped into his own command chair, nodding at the readouts in front of Cassar. 'How's she looking?'

'Good. The reactor is ticking over smoothly and the targeting is reacting faster than I've seen it in a

while. The Mechanicum adepts have been tinkering so there are a few more bells and whistles to play with,’

You say that as if it's a bad thing, Titus. The Mechanicum know what they're doing. Anyway, the latest news is that we've got twelve hours to go before the drop. We're going in with the Death Guard on support duties. Princeps Turnet will brief us in a few hours, but it's basically pounding the ground and scaring the shit out of the enemy. Sound good?'

'It sounds like battle,’

'It's all the same thing for the Dies Irae when the bullets are flying,’ said Aruken.

'THIS REMINDS ME of why I was so proud,’ said Loken, looking at the speartip assembling on the Vengeful Spirit's embarkation deck. 'Joining the Mournival, and just to be a part of this,’

'I am still proud,’ said Torgaddon. 'This is my Legion. That hasn't changed,’

Loken and Torgaddon, fully armoured and ready for the drop, stood at the head of a host of Astartes. More than a third of the Legion was there, thousands of warriors arrayed for war. Loken saw veterans alongside newly inducted novices, assault warriors with chainswords and bulky jump packs, and devastators hefting heavy bolters and lascan-nons.

Sergeant Lachost was speaking with his communications squad, making sure they understood the

importance of keeping a link with the Vengeful Spirit once they were down in the Choral City.

Apothecary Vaddon was checking and re-checking his medical gear, the narthecium gauntlet with its cluster of probes and the reductor that would harvest gene-seeds from the fallen.

Iacton Qruze, who had been a captain for so long that he was as old as an Astartes could be and still count himself a warrior, was lecturing some of the more recent inductees on the past glories of the Legion that they had to live up to.

'I'd be happier with the Tenth,’ said Loken, returning his attention to his friend.

'And I with the Second,' replied Torgaddon, 'but we can't always have what we want.' 'Garvi!' called a familiar voice. Loken turned and saw Nero Vipus approaching them, leaving the veterans of Locasta to continue their preparations for the drop. 'Nero,' said Loken, 'good to have you with us.' Vipus clapped Loken's shoulder guard with the augmetic hand that had replaced the organic one he'd lost on Sixty-Three Nineteen. 'I wouldn't have missed this,’ he said.

'I know what you mean,’ replied Loken. It had been a long time since they had lined up on the Vengeful Spirit as brothers, ready to fight the Emperor's good fight. Nero Vipus and Loken were the oldest of friends, back from the barely remembered blur of training, and it was reassuring to have another familiar face alongside him.

'Have you heard the reports from Isstvan Extremis?' asked Vipus, his eyes alight.

'Some of them,’

'They say the enemy has got some kind of psychic leadership caste and that their soldiers are fanatics. My choler's up just thinking about it,’

'Don't worry,’ said Torgaddon. 'I'm sure you'll kill them all,’

'It's like Davin again,’ said Vipus, baring his teeth in a grimace of anticipation.

'It's not like Davin,’ said Loken. 'It's nothing at all like Davin,’

'What do you mean?'

'It's not a bloody swamp, for a start,’ interjected Torgaddon.

'It would be an honour if you'd go into battle with Locasta, Garvi,’ said Vipus expectantly. 'I have a space in the drop-pod,’

The honour is mine,’ replied Loken, taking his friend's hand as a sudden thought occurred to him. 'Count me in,’

He nodded to his friends and made his way through the bustling Astartes towards the solitary figure of Iacton Qruze. The Half-heard watched the preparations for war with undisguised envy and Loken felt a stab of sympathy for the venerable warrior. Qruze was an example of just how little even the Legion's apothecaries knew of an Astartes' physiology. His face was as battered and gnarled as ancient oak, but his body was as wolf-tough, honed by years of fighting and not yet made weary by age.

me bore you with this before, but I feel in my bones that there's something big just over the horizon that we can't see. If these people help keep us honest, then that's good enough for me. Consider it done, Captain Loken,’

'Thank you, Iacton,' said Loken. 'It means a lot to me.'

'Don't mention it boy,’ grinned Qruze. 'Now get out of here and kill for the living.'

'I will,’ promised Loken, taking Qruze's wrist in the warrior's grip.

'Speartip units to posts,’ said the booming voice of the deck officer.

'Good hunting in the Sirenhold,’ said Qruze. 'Lupercal!'

'Lupercal!' echoed Loken.

As he jogged towards Locasta's drop-pod, it almost felt as if the events of Davin were forgotten and Loken was just a warrior again, fighting a crusade that had to be won and an enemy that deserved to die.

It took war to make him feel like one of the Sons of Horas again.

'To VICTORY! ' SHOUTED Lucius.

The Emperor's Children were so certain of the perfection of their way of war that it was traditional to salute the victory before it was won. Tarvitz was not surprised that Lucius led the salute; many senior officers attended the pre-battle celebration and Lucius was keen to be noticed. The Astartes