Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 122

Glord braced himself as the barge sailed through the gap, heading into the unknown. Darkness surrounded him and even his autosenses could not penetrate the inky murk. There was no sensation of movement, no wind to signal motion or echoes to judge distances. The barge continued its steady progress, unchanging in the slightest degree and for all Glord could tell he could be tumbling through the infinite darkness between galaxies.

The only sound was the noise of his own breathing inside his helm, mixed with the hum of his power armour. His armour's spirit flashed icons before his eyes, painting them on the darkness, but all they told him was the Machine was as confounded as he was. Even the chronometer seemed to have lost track, jumping randomly as it tried to calculate how long the voyage had taken. The weight of his Fission-blaster was heavy in his hands, the evil device's glow swallowed by the thick miasma surrounding him. His feet were securely planted and he could feel his armour gripping his legs, the reinforced braces bearing the mass of his Ceramite effortlessly. His whole universe seemed to be contained inside his own plate and all he could do was stand and wait for something to happen.

Seconds stretched out as he breathed steadily, becoming minutes. His mind was racing in expectation of what he was about to encounter but he forced that aside. He needed to be sharp and quick, ready for enemies to pounce the moment he arrived wherever he was going. He was alone and unsupported, armed with a weapon that no proud Astartes should bear. Yet his mission was clear and his conviction unwavering. He would complete the objective, no matter what stood in his way.

Suddenly light returned and Glord's eye lenses fritzed as they tried to compensate. Vision blurred for a moment, then focused and Glord's jaw dropped. The barge had emerged into a spherical cavern, ten kilometres wide. Curved walls surrounded him, covered in arcane machinery. Protruding through a hole in the roof was a squared-off pillar, surely the base of the Synaptic Annihilator itself. It was glowing with streams of green energy being projected from the walls, drinking in unthinkable amounts of energy with each second that passed and by all accounts this had been going on since the moment the Chapter arrived.

Glord peered over the side of the barge and saw other conveyances drifting towards the epicentre, each laden with strange artefacts. Glord had no idea what they did but they were attended by many constructs, Spyders and hunched Necron warriors. They laboured over their cargoes, indifferent to the intruder in their midst, unaware that a living being had penetrated their most precious sanctum. Glord didn't have to wonder what would happen when they realised he was here, he knew they would kill him.

"Fang-rot…", he breathed as he wondered how he was going to accomplish his mission.

Suddenly his vox squawked and he heard Reddam shouting, "Glord?! We can hear you, speak again."

Glord realised his vox was open and he'd transmitted his words. Hastily he broadcast, "Brother-Sergeant, I hear you."

"Where are you?" Reddam snapped.

"I've reached the objective, I'm being taken straight towards it."

"Hold position," Reddam ordered, "We're looking for a way inside. We'll join you and then plant the bomb and get out of here."

Glord glanced over the side of the barge and judged he was several kilometres above the nearest wall. The barge was drifting slowly forward, indifferent of the vast drop below its keel. There were no controls he could use, no way to halt his progress or force it to turn about. His mind flashed through scenarios, trying to deduce how the squad would find an entrance on their bikes, fly up to his position and then make their withdrawal… all under the onslaught of enemy fire. The conclusion was brutal and inescapable: they couldn't. Glord had no way out of here.

A terrible sense of foreboding filled his soul but he was Astartes, he knew what he had to do. Reluctantly Glord drew in a breath and said, "Negative Sergeant, you need to begin your exfiltration immediately."

"Glord," Reddam ventured warily, "What are you saying?"

"There's no way for you to reach me," Glord stated grimly, "It's impossible. Bikes were never going to be enough, there's no way out for me."

Suddenly Larus burst into the channel, "Glord, this is no time to be a glory-hog, let us come to you."

"Not happening," Glord replied, "You can't, you physically can't."

Joffel added his voice, "Don't be stupid, death-defying heroics are my style. Throwing your life away is foolish."

"I don't want to do this," Glord lamented, "Believe me I'd like to live on, but I am Astartes. I will do what has to be done, for the mission."

"Glord, you're sure there's no other way?" Reddam pressed, "We won't abandon you."

Glord said with grim certainty, "Brother-Sergeant, I'm not coming back from this one. But I'm not afraid. What's it you always say: cold hearts, fast blades and unbreakable in our loyalty to each other. This is my loyalty to the squad, I will finish this alone. You have to let me go and get the others out of here."

Reddam's voice was grave as he said, "Understood, squad break for the surface, I'm signalling Poisoned Fang to retrieve us and the Chapter to commence immediate evacuation."

"But…" Larus protested.

"That was an order!" Reddam snapped, "Glord… die well, die proud."

Kazao's voice cut in, "We will never forget you."

Tebes stated, "We will honour your name forever."

Joffel added, "Glory to you."

Then Berio stated, "Remember, break the sphere and the Eye of Discord will detonate, nothing can stop it."

It was a fine farewell but finally Larus hissed, "Glord you bloody fool, I can't say goodbye to you like this. It's not right."

Glord heard the stoic Brother's voice breaking and knew their bond was deeper than either of them had ever admitted but he said, "Get out of here, live my Brother and remember I faced death with no fear."

Glord snapped off the vox and sealed it shut, not wanting to say another word. He faced the converging mass of barges and saw they had drifted much closer, almost to the nub of the Synaptic Annihilator. In a few minutes he would be right under it and then he would have to set off the bomb. His guts tightened at the thought and sweat prickled his brow as he muttered, "I'm not afraid… I'm not afraid… I'm not afraid. I told them that. Good job they didn't know I was lying my ass off."

It was then Glord spied a Sypder turning his way. The construct coming to investigate the barge he was standing on. Perhaps it sensed his heartbeat, maybe it had detected their vox-transmissions or maybe it was a routine scan. It didn't matter. The Necrons machine couldn't fail to miss the Astartes standing on the barge, Glord's cover was blown. He gritted his teeth and hefted his Fission-Blaster as he muttered, "Let's do this."

A squeeze of a trigger caused his weapon to flare and a crackling red bolt went soaring into the face of the Spyder. The blast punched inside the machine and plumes of fire erupted from its back, causing it to roll over and drop like a stone. The construct fell away but its loss was like a signal flare to the other Necrons. Everywhere throughout the vast cavern silver machines stopped whatever they were doing and looked his way. There was no cry of alarm, no shouted orders or shrill screaming, the Necrons looked at him for a single heartbeat then they were all racing towards him.

"Ah crap," Glord cursed as he spied a wall of silver coming at him. They arose from barges, they fell from the roof and climbed from below, surrounding him in a globe of living metal. Glord saw no route that was not filled with foes and knew he was about to be overwhelmed. Seeing no alternative he threw caution to the wind and set the Fission-blaster to maximum power. He set his feet and then let loose a flurry of radioactive blasts, filling the air ahead with contaminated destruction.

Crackling red orbs swatted Spyders from the sky, they blew Necrons off barges and consumed Scarabs by the dozen. Glord felt his arms burning with radioactive blow-back and the Fission-blaster vented steam profusely as it glowed red-hot but he did not relent. Glord poured on fire, smashing enemies apart as he roared, "I am Glord! Hear my name and know your killer!" He swept the sky with lethal rads, swatting enemies down as he yelled, "I am an Amber Viper!" More came in, swarming to engulf his position but he fired continuously as he cried, "I am a warrior of the Emperor!" All he could see were Necrons and his hands burned as incandescent heat penetrated his gauntlets but he continued to fire and bellowed, "I am death!"

He was gunning foes down by the dozen, even as his cells began to die from radiation exposure. Space Marines were tough but they were not invulnerable, even they had their limits. A lifetime of exposure to radiation could cripple even them and Glord was absorbing enough to kill a hundred mortals, a thousand. Each shot was cutting his remaining days down exponentially but that hardly mattered, he was about to die regardless.

He saw a brief glimpse of the Synaptic Annihilator through the pressing crowd and knew he was as close as he was ever going to get. His spirit hardened as he knew his time was up. If he was going to do this he had to do it now. He steeled himself for his final act and commended his soul to the Emperor. Glord continued to fire as he lifted his foot then stamped down on the glassic sphere and shouted, "I am Glord and this is how an Astartes dies!"

The sound of glassic shattering echoed and Glord braced himself for the end, but nothing happened. He counted three heartbeats and then glanced down. At his feet the Eye of Discord spun slowly, endless rings spinning within each other but giving no indication that it was about to explode. Glord filled with incredulity as he saw the bomb was not exploding and he heard the sound of countless foes gliding towards him. Glord gasped, "Berio you Grox-fondler, you said it would work!"

Suddenly an actinic blast ripped through the air, tearing his left arm off. Glord staggered with a gasp of pain and dropped his weapon but he had no time to recover. Another blast tore through his stomach and another disintegrated his leg and he fell to the deck, his body violated beyond salvation. Pain gripped him tight and sank claws into his nerves as he rolled over. The bitter tang of failure burned his tongue and he thought he would feel silver talons around his neck any second. But then he saw it.

The Eye of Discord was spinning faster and faster, the swirling rings turning upon each other in a confusion of dizzying contortions. Glord saw into those endless depths and within them beheld infinity. No human born in the ignorance of the far future could fathom its secrets but the Eye of Discord was in essence a reality-shredder. It summoned unborn timelines from the quantum firmament of the universe and created an aperture where histories that never happened played out and futures that could never be were true. Only the Necrons could have understood what was happening inside that device, for they had mastered such secrets long ago. The Necrons had placed limits on this dangerous technology, their obsessive need for control imposing restrictions upon its use. Yet the ancient humans who fashioned the Eye of Discord hadn't cared for such niceties, they sought unlimited destruction. The Necrons had made reality-shredders into knives, humanity had built weapons of mass destruction.

"Wonderous," Glord breathed as he saw impossibilities play out before his eyes. Histories where he marched in purple armour, marked with a golden chalice. He saw his Chapter falling to Chaos in some futures and others where they laid down their lives most nobly for the Imperium. He saw a universe where humanity had been replaced by squats, leading to a galaxy of cold industry and dark science. He saw a universe where Horus Lupercal refused the entreaties of Chaos only to see his brother Rogal Dorn lead the rebellion against the Emperor instead, loyalist and Traitor Primarchs swapping places in a bizarre parody of history. He saw a universe where Perturabo was the last loyal son, building cities of wondrous beauty filled with miserable citizens whose lives of brutal toil left no time to appreciate their surroundings. He saw a universe where Lorgar and Alpharius swore a pact to overthrow the Imperium, assassinating the Emperor at the outset of their campaign only to be surprised over the skies of Terra by the most unlikely alliance of Leman Russ and Magnus the Red, the pair setting aside their feuding to exact vengeance. Multiple existences, all fighting to become real.

Glord saw it all and laughter spilled from his lips, as the paradox grew, the only possible response to such total insanity. He laughed as the Necrons veered away, fleeing away at top speed and he laughed as the fabric of reality collapsed. Spacetime could not contain multiple timelines, there could be only one existence and the Materium rejected the contradiction with raging fire. Light, heat, radiation, gravity, microwaves, zero-point energy and more swept forth with irresistible force, annihilating everything within sight.

Glord was still laughing as he died, wiped from existence by an explosion of incalculable power. All the Necrons in the chamber ceased to exist, erased so completely they would never be rebuilt. The walls were atomised and the Synaptic Annihilator was disintegrated, the kilometres-long length of it vaporised like smoke in the wind. Nothing was left, not even atoms and the Necron's most prized weapon was destroyed in a single heartbeat.

All this was as the Cerberii planned, but what they had not considered was the amount of energy stored in that Macro-weapon. Energy that now was released in a tidal wave and had only one place to go: straight back up the power lines that had produced it. Rampant surges of wild force seared through the arcane systems of the Necron power network, torrents of energy that caused relays to explode in sequence. No safety buffers or control mechanisms could cope with this unexpected deluge and the surge raced outwards, building in potential as it blew up everything it touched. In a growing cascade overload the tsunami swept on, growing more deadly as it spread and the Dyson Sphere began to shake itself apart.