VI
ILLUMINATION

2
The Angrboedha

Losa watched the Korpsman crumple to the floor at the prodding of a partisan. Sevanar spewed binary-bursts of protest, but the cyborgs would not acknowledge the Magos, instead dragging the stunned Korpsman away.
Magos Sevanar turned her optical stalk to Losa as if to plead; the heretek's vox squealed. "Please," came her voice. "Don't let them take my baby!"
Losa sighed and crossed her arms. "The Master has declared him necessary for the testing."
"He isn't necessary!" Sevanar protested, her vox gaining a faintly urgent tone. "There are hundreds of others aboard he can put to use on the engine, he doesn't need my Heidrich!"
The assassin shrugged. "Orders," she told Sevanar, and turned to the partisans waiting for her in the doorway. Heidrich was regaining his senses, and was dimly gazing up at her. Losa forced the captive to look away with a thought, then stepped out with the partisans in tow.
Magos Sevanar stared off at the door, before turning to one of the room's light-sources. The white glow flickered, and went out – in its place appeared the vague holographic shape of a human face, suspended midway between the floor and the ceiling. The face skewed downwards – nodding, knowingly, to the Magos before fading away.
A binary-burst from the enginarium vox-line informed Sevanar that she was summoned to do the Master's bidding; she complied, slowly dragging her mechanical mass from of the room, the lights dimming out behind her.

Each day, the cyber-partisans arrived at the Lady Inquisitor's room with a medicae drone in-tow. She had quickly learned to appreciate the partisans' strength: when she attempted to ignore them, they forced her down with no real effort and let the probe draw blood from her.
On this particular visit, there was no probe; instead the partisans flanked Anxo.
The cyber-partisans stepped forward towards the Lady, who for the first time days resisted.
"Bind her," Anxo plainly commanded, rather uselessly as the cyborgs moved to shackle the Lady. "Apply a shock if need be."
The cyber-partisans put the Lady in manacles as she sneered at Anxo; the denounced Inquisitor rolled his eyes.
"Come for more scars?" the Lady taunted as the two partisans pushed her along out of the room.
Anxo lifted up a hand and calmly and simply smacked her. "You will not disrespect me like that."
He nodded to the cyborgs. "Take her to the Master," he said, and they obeyed, pulling the Lady Inquisitor along out of the room. Inquisitor Anxo followed after them.

The door opened; Vok was not quick to turn, too interested in watching through the observation glass as adepts prepared equipment in the chamber below.
"Now, my Lady," Vok said as the cyber-partisans dropped the Inquisitor to the floor. "I suppose you are familiar with Dargen's Apostasic Theory?"
The Lady lifted her head, and found Vok was not alone: present in the observation chamber was a abominably thin man drabbed in black, nearly as tall as the man-machine – an Eldar, the Inquisitor realized, and behind him stood a pair of broad-shouldered, armored figures with masks like daemons' faces, both of whom brandished enormous blades.
Vok scooped her up by an arm, lifting her to her feet. "Surely, you know of Dargen - the Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor so wrought with misfortune that his entire Throne Agent Cell turned to darker powers. He wrote a thesis based on the patterns of his servants' falls. As it was eventually discovered, however, his team's corruption was not entirely of their own doing…"
"Apostasic…" the Lady wheezed. "Apostasic matrix."
Vok nodded. "An effective machine. It's capable of either frying a brain or bringing it to question all it has held sacred. With the touch of such a machine's influence, even the strongest will can fall under the bombardment of a hundred million paradoxes and revelations. Not necessarily an effective weapon by immediate use, I feel, but it presents an interesting idea…"
The Master motioned to the Eldar. "I would introduce you, now, to Eikharr, a Haemonculus of the Dark City of Commorragh. He is one of several parties which have expressed interest in what I am to present here today…"
A grin crossed the Haemonculus' face – and also his neck, as an additional lipless mouth was lodged at the base of his throat, and it was this additional orifice which carried his voice: "I have heard of you, saraimaesha," he said, his Low Gothic contorted into a whispering hiss. "Yrtzen Vok is pleased to tell his patrons of how he captured a saraimaesha…"
The Lady tilted her head at the repetition of the word. Eikharr loosed a raspy laugh. "It is my language's word for you. What call you mon'keigh it?" He made a grasping motion with his hand and looked to Vok.
"Soulless, soul-eater," Vok growled. "'Saraimaesha' is a rather poetic word, one which makes me fond of the Commorragh vernacular – it means 'sun which eats light.'"
"Yes," the Haemonculus said, nodding as a teacher would nod to a knowledgeable pupil. The door opened as he continued: "Filthy creatures."
That left the Lady unsure of whether he was referring to her, or the Traitor Marine, who had just slid in.
Torturer was a wholly different creature from the brute which the Lady had been kidnapped by: his height had been increased by his new leg augmetics; his armor was clean and new, edged with razors and adorned with profane symbols. The Chaos Astartes bore a more unsettling presence, his eyes sunken in his skull and his skin deathly pale. The decorations along the trim of his pauldrons seemed to slowly flow in a cyclic motion.
The Traitor Marine leered at the Lady, hatefully and hungrily at once, and then bowed to Vok, demonstrating the dexterity of his new, multi-jointed legs as he leaned hazardously forward; the Haemonculus eyed him with an expression of disgust.
"And here, then, is my latest association," Vok announced. "Lord Eikharr, I introduce to you Torturer, the Chaos Marine."
Eikharr's scowl deepened, and Torturer chuckled lightly. Despite himself, the Dark eldar bowed in greeting.
Eikharr turned to the Lady, however, to find a new subject of conversation. "I see you have leashed her," he commented, folding his arms.
"She came packaged with her bonds," Vok said, motioning to the Lady's tied hands – and her fingers. "And she knows what will happen if she removes hers."
Eikharr nodded, pleased by the implications. "And, are we not to be joined by Zarvoth?"
Vok shook his head. "Zarvoth was finally slain by the Storm Wardens while leading an insurrection on Srax." Seeing the expression of false disappointment on the Haemonculus' face, the Master continued: "We did however, get much data from him on the effects of that crystallizer you provided me to work with. I managed to retrieve a few of the afflicted bodies – very beautiful. I think I'll put them on display in the arboretum."
A door opened in the testing chamber below, and Vok's attention quickly returned to the examination pane.
The Master pleasingly grumbled. "But ah, the show begins anon."
He shoved the Lady against the observation port. "See there," he told her, pressing her face to the glass, "your loyal servant goes to his doom."
Vok uncurled a metal finger to point out Heidrich as he was guided into the chamber by two cyber-partisans.
The Lady snarled and shut her eyes tight. "Now, now, I'm not such an ass as to kill him," The Master assured her. "No, but when we're done here I suspect there will be little left for you to call your comrade."
Vok looked back to the others. "My friends: as I have advertised to you, on this meeting we gather here to examine the effects of many long years of study on the effects of the apostasic matrix.
"I have long suspected the technology in question to have far greater use than in a petty shock staff. No, what if we could rewire one's brain chemistry, without the need for brutish, destructive lobotomization? What if we could turn a person in mere minutes with a force guaranteed only by years of slow and steady influence? What if we could despoil any notion of innocence… with promises of pleasure and threats of terror?"
Eikharr slowly nodded in approval of this.
"For years have I endeavored to produce an effective and simple design which uses human nature to nurture ideally devout servants, enabling us to create monsters with that which a man holds dear. You'll see there…"
As Vok paused, the Lady opened her eyes and glanced into the test chamber: Heidrich was being strapped upright into a seat, like a throne built into a wall of electronic equipment.
"The device is, for prototypical and theatrical purposes, oversized here. Most of that is data-recording instrumentation; the true device is a box-like sapience core, a meter or so in height. That core handles the process of studying the subject's brain for any pleasant memories, for notable figures, and constructs the perfect dream for the person…"
Vok tilted his head, and his eyes seemed to glow brighter. "Then it takes it all away. Again and again. Or, if that doesn't work it might consider several alternatives, but it structures all things for the viewing pleasure of its subject's subconscious."
The Lady grimaced, fighting back bitter and hateful tears.
Vok approached one wall and lifted a hand to it; a hololithic panel blinked into existence beneath his palm. A chime rang out through the room and the Master leaned towards the wall. "Magos," Vok rumbled, "you may commence at your leisure."
Vok moved back from the wall and gestured to the observation pane. "Observe there," he said, and another hololithic graph appeared against the glass, displaying numerous analytical rates and measurements. "The life-readings of the subject: Inquisitorial Agent Heidrich, formerly of the Death Korps of Krieg."
Below, the Korpsman's jaw went slack, and his head snapped to the rear of his chair.
Eikharr began to madly laugh as Vok continued: "There aren't many opportunities we get such an ardently faithful subject as a Death Korps Guardsman. It will please me greatly to benchmark the power of my latest investment on his will."
A notation at the corner of Heidrich's display flashed "ON" and his heartbeat-reading started to climb in pace. The group moved in to watch, while the Lady Inquisitor silently cursed each of them.

Reality bent inward for Heidrich; an empty pit confronted him, dragging him deep into nothingness. On the descent he saw Losa Proga watching him with a judgmental eye; his captor the Traitor Marine swooped in to snatch the Korpsman like a bird of prey, instead snatching the Lady Inquisitor and cutting her apart. Moerchen appeared, enormous and enraged, and brought his crozius down on the Korpsman.
Yet there was no pain. When the weapon lifted away from Heidrich's head, he found himself on the no man's land of a battlefield, surrounded by smoking craters and the scent of poison. Then every aspect of the world began to fracture and flake away, scattering as dust and revealing a new world to the Korpsman:
He sat in the shade of a tall tree, relaxed against the trunk, amidst a meadow lit bright by the midday sun. In spite of everything which had just happened, Heidrich knew this was real – the sunlight poured onto him, warming his skin; his sensitive eyes strained to adjust to the light. A gentle breeze blew against him and the trees rustled as it passed.
That, then, left the question of just where he was. When he had been young he often heard the stories of how redemptive Korpsmen were sent to stand at the Emperor's side upon death; this was obviously not the side of the Emperor, but the question lingered in Heidrich's mind:
Was he dead?
"I see you're awake."
The Korpsman jolted, sitting fully straight. The voice brought memories home with a cascade of pain.
He looked up: a white dress on a thin, feminine human frame; glinting golden hair rustling at her shoulders. Her blue eyes gleamed, and she smiled warmly at him – it was as if his old holo had animated.
He wished to say "Ersabet"; the name became stuck on his tongue, and no sound came forth.
45-Ersabet smiled wide at Heidrich. "Sleep well, dear?"
Heidrich attempted to speak again, questions quickly mounting – yet once more his voice refused to rise up.
Ersabet shut her eyes and took a deep breath. "Of course," she said, sitting up against her fellow Korpsman's arm, "you can't speak. I'm sorry, my love."
Heidrich let his head rest against the tree. He tried to move his tongue in his mouth, and then realized he could not – he did not have a tongue. He looked down at Ersabet as she shifted about, slipping her arm around his.
She stared up at him. "You know, when we sit here, I think about everything we have… everything we gave up. I don't miss the Korps anymore. I don't miss the fighting… I'm just glad to be here with you. To have peace and quiet with you."
She lifted his hand and placed it on her stomach. She tilted her head, leaned forward, and pressed her lips to his; Heidrich closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the kiss.
Quickly, however, Heidrich realized something was wrong. Ersabet's tongue flicked in through his lips, lapping over the inside of his mouth – she pressed against him, and in spite of any obstacles he fell to the ground.
Disturbed, he opened his eyes, and found himself embraced by a creature which was most definitely not 45-Ersabet.
Its exposed skin had a soft, pinkish hue, like porcelain mixed with bare flesh, layered on thinner, petite shoulders; where hair would have grown atop its head was instead short, limp tendrils of a deeper tint; a relaxing warmth radiated from its bosom, which was augmented by a pair of flat teats, pushed against Heidrich's abdomen. It undulated against the Korpsman, brushing his body with its fingers.
It breathed heavily on top of him, exhaling air through a nose which was but a soft ridge on a heart-shaped face. Slowly, it opened its slanted eyes until they were but knowing, devious slits of pure white light. It grinned at him, and retraced its long tongue, rubbing the appendage against the roof of his mouth as it retreated.
It sighed contentedly, its hot respiration visible as a cloud of steam.
"You enjoyed that," it declared – the words came before the creature seemed to speak.
The creature placed Heidrich's hand upon its breast. "You enjoy this," it said again.
It rocked its hips against his. "You enjoy that…"
It lowered itself against him, putting its brow to his – then it whispered: "You enjoy everything I can offer you."

Eikharr was the first to laugh as the Korpsman's pulse climbed; in the chamber below them, Heidrich could be seen to flinch and squirm against his restraints.
"As we watch, the sapience core is working the recesses of his brain to appease whatever urges he has," Vok said, narrating as updated information arrived on the holograph. "He is in an increased state of anxiety, brought on by his weakening resistance. He is slowly being laid bare."
The Lady kept her face turned from the scene. Quite suddenly, Vok grabbed her by her hair.
"Do you not weep any longer for your dear servant?" the Master taunted. "Do you not feel guilt, knowing that he undergoes this thanks to you? Thanks to your impudence? I must say, your lack of tears is more damning evidence of your selfish apathy than any deed I have ever committed."
The Lady scowled at him. "Burn in hell," she spat.
Laughter rumbled up from Vok's vocalizer. "Naught but hate for me, yet no pity for the pathetic boy." He dropped her, and turned again to the observation pane. "When he is born anew, I think you'll find him quite interested in knowing why you did not beg for his life…"

The Master's taunts reverberated through the diagnostor station, filling Sevanar's head. The Magos gazed out through the glass at the convulsing form of Heidrich, staring as the holographic face manifested beside her.
The luminescent figure mouthed the words, "the time draws near," and then stood silent. Magos Sevanar turned her body, and slowly trudged along, headed for the control boards of the apostasic array.

The creature slid back off of Heidrich, and stood on its tall, slender legs.
"You want to speak," it said, "to ask, to curse. But you will not. Your tongue will not move unless I will it."
Reality evaporated once more for the Korpsman, and he was sitting in voided space. The creature radiated bright light upon him, staring at him as though he were some witless child. The feeling stung the Korpsman.
The creature widened its grin. "You do not like it, do you?" It drew close to him again, kneeling before him and cupping his face.
"You can fight back… yours is a powerful mind. The most powerful I've ever known." The words bit deeply into Heidrich's conscience.
"The potential sleeps within you, to conquer me – to dominate me…"
The creature writhed. "But you must first grasp that power. You must beg for it."
Heidrich turned his eyes from the creature as nausea began to sweep over him; with a sweep of its narrow index finger, however, the creature drew his gaze back upon it.
"Why do you hesitate? Can you not sense the limitless power which lies in wait – just for you?"
Heidrich glanced around: he now stood amidst a crowd of beings identical to the one atop him, the whole number of the creatures standing amid a scorched earth and smoke-choked skies.
"Just for you…"
Many of the creatures bore staves topped with the heads of Korpsmen. At this, Heidrich, recoiled, falling back until he only kept himself upright with the palms of his hands.
"Do you not want the power to make them rue the abuse they laid on you?"
The creature disappeared.
"Do you not want to change the fate of the galaxy? The very course of history will be trifling grains of sand for you to sift and displace at your leisure."
The hordes surrounding Heidrich faded away, leaving him again in emptiness. He looked around, turning his head to the left, then to the right…
When he looked back, he found himself standing again – Ersabet lay at his feet, naked, bound and with her mouth forced open by restraints. She looked up to him pleadingly, and shivered. Heidrich shuffled backwards and fell to his knees before her, panting in distress.
"Scream," called the creature's voice.
He clenched his throat tight in frantic defiance.
"I want to hear you scream."
Heidrich broke into a cold sweat now: for underneath him there now was the Lady Inquisitor, shamefully hiding her breasts with her arm. She frowned piteously, too fearful to look up at him. The Korpsman's entire body trembled.
He felt the creature's fingers scrape against his temples. "She's waiting for you," it sang.
"Take her. Let your voice come forth and take her."
Heidrich's face twisted into a mix of disgust and sorrow. He heaved and arched his back, yet he did not comply.
"Obey my will. Scream, and take her."
The Lady outstretched her arms and wrapped them around Heidrich's torso. She smiled up at him blissfully. "Make me yours," she said to him.
Still Heidrich did not obey. He tore away from the Lady, and doubled back as far as he could.
"Do as I say," the creature commanded – its voice grew uneasy and demanding.
Now Heidrich found Moerchen's skull helm laid at his feet. The accusation "you killed him!" beat on his ears as a child's voice, laughing with glee as though at a cute prank.
To his side rested a trailing length of leather. He followed the strap along with his eyes until he was greeted by the sight of Maddox Lamortes, clothed in red tatters.
"You will be the only one with authority, the only to give commands," the creature said.
The Magos was hunched over, rabidly giggling to himself, staring at Heidrich as he gnawed on the abdomen of Freia. Lying on her side in Lamortes' lap, the Hereticus Inquisitor beamed gleefully at the Korpsman, as though ignorant of what was being done to her.
"Now," the creature ordered. "Do it now. Do as I say."
Heidrich shook his head. He rolled over and rose, and sprinted off into the emptiness.
"Do as I say!" the creature shrieked. Heidrich was forced off his feet, and fell backwards, landing on his buttocks. As he scrambled up to his feet again, it appeared atop him once more.
The creature moaned and bucked, grinding against Heidrich. It ran its hands along its ribs – as it did so, its shape morphed, flickering from its guise to that of Ersabet, innocently rolling her body over his.
"Oh, Heidrich," Ersabet sighed, "scream with me!"
With its impatience apparent, the creature took on the Lady's form, and she pressed down against Heidrich's chest as her hips rose and fell. The sensation was something he had never experienced before.
The Lady breathed hard; she sat upright over the Korpsman, then began to wail. "Scream!" she cried. "Scream for me!"
Heidrich frowned, and bit down on his lip.
"Scream!" the Lady demanded. "Scream!"
The creature's shape changed once more – but the appearance it took on was far-removed from its previous ones.
Its neck tilted back and its skull grew long, until the rear of its crown fused with the thing's backside. Its eyes opened wide and, like a star in its death throes darkened until they were a glossy black; the color of its skin receded, congregating as a blemish on its throat that widened into the shape of a pair of jaws; its fingers grew long and ridged, with sucker-like mouths where tips would be. A tail sprouted from where its spine met the back of its head, and this grew long and thick.
"Scream," the creature rasped, its voice deepening and stretching. Its tail lashed about, coming round, smacking the Korpsman in the face, and then snaked its way around his neck.
The creature lowered itself against Heidrich, and its jaw went slack: within its maw he saw hundreds of fires revolve around a singular ball of flame.
"Scream!" it roared. Heidrich opened his mouth to do so.
Yet it was not Heidrich who screamed. Instead the creature jerked backwards, and produced a sound like a jet engine firing. Its body cracked apart like a broken shell, erupting into intense flame.

Suddenly, the holograph showing the Korpsman's vital readings flickered, and disappeared. Vok irritably snarled and moved to the wall.
As the Master lifted his hand to the hololith, a vox-path opened. "Magos! What has happened?"
The response came back with a disorienting warble which caught the Lady's attention: "You will not hurt my baby!"
The channel abruptly died. Vok stepped back – then, a deep, bass rumble came from his voice box. He turned and made for the door, his growling growing louder and more sporadic as he exited, leaving his guests confused.
"Watch the Inquisitor!" he shouted as the door sealed behind him.
Vok immediately turned and strode down a service stairway to the testing chamber's diagnostor station. The door did not instantly open for him, which only fueled his anger further.
"Open!" he ordered. When his command was not heeded, he simply punched through with both hands, and pried the door open by force. He leaned in, pressing the entrance open with his secondary set of arms.
Within were cowering tech-adepts in Sevanar's cult colors. Vok bellowed in rage and smacked the closest one, breaking his neck. The hereteks began to flee, and the Master moved on, noting the Magos in the back of the room, manipulator arms tearing parts from the apostasic array's control panels while smaller arms connected mind-impulse cables into the array.
"Sevanar!" Vok howled as he approached. A mechadendrite mounting a las-head lashed out from Vok's back, and he snapped off a shot which burned through the cabling on one of the Magos' support-legs. With her balance lost Sevanar buckled and fell to the side as another las-bolt disabled a clamp she had directed towards the Master.
"Useless!" Vok snarled as he drew close. He shot off an arm from Sevanar's body – when his fingers grasped her shell, however, the Magos' metal casing began to glow bright, and Vok convulsed, emitting a broken cry of rage that repeated for several seconds before he fell on his back.

Heidrich lay with his mouth dumbly hanging open for what seemed centuries. The creature eventually turned to ash and crumbled away, covering him in its soot, but this did nothing to affect his immobility.
Eventually, however, the sound of gentle song stirred the Korpsman to motion. He blinked, then pushed himself up, dust spilling off his sides.
Before him stood a woman with dark brown hair, draped in white cloth which poured down in long bands; her green eyes peered at him in warm adoration.
Still singing, the woman knelt and lifted Heidrich up – the Korpsman suddenly realized he had become an infant, and the woman before him was now robed in red, her hair turning grey; her right eye sprouted various bits of metal cabling which came together and flowered into a red augmetic lens.
The Lady in Red rocked the newborn Heidrich back and forth, smiling at him, still singing to safeguard him.
"My dear Heidrich," she lovingly cooed, "my sweet, little Heidrich…"
She paused for a moment, staring into his eyes. A buzzing like a swarm of insects invaded the Korpsman's ears; then memories and collected sentience suddenly flooded his mind – at first it was vague and horrible images, indeterminable concepts and feelings; but then something familiar began to permeate the infused knowledge, and before long Heidrich realized he was staring into scenes from his dreams.
Atrielle Sevanar stood, whispering her final words to the infant she had worked so hard to conceive, before Korps Grenadiers could arrest her. Years later, after being found out in the midst of a scheme to escape with the child, she stepped aboard a lander bound for a ship in high-orbit – they meant to take her back to the forsaken Calixis Sector to be punished. Weeks passed and her keepers grew neglectful and abusive in equal parts; she eventually fell from her resting place, her pulse weakening. The world around her grew dark.
Then, suddenly, in the center of her fading vision, her sister appeared, drabbed in black and sporting countless unholy augmentations. Though Atrielle, now deaf, could not hear Lunelle, she saw her sibling's ruined features contort and saw her pull her head back and wail in empathetic pain and misery.
Days after carrying the rotting Atrielle off the mid-transit carrier, Lunelle pulled her sister from deep rest with a look of indescribable glee. She brought her sister to a section of her ship where menials fearfully scurried away from them like parting waters, and introduced her to her new body. Atrielle apparently died, then, too weak to carry on.
Despite this, she awoke again, and found her mind seemed to also contain something else: disjointed memories of two lost bodies filled her conscience, feelings of longing for a sibling, and passionate hatred for terrible grievances. Lunelle had made herself one with her sister by connecting the two of them within a walking tomb, and had joined their minds together.
Soon thereafter, as the fused Sevanar sisters settled into being referred to by the name of the elder, they were employed by the shadowy Yrtzen Vok. The mechanical man fascinated them greatly, and even as he grew controlling, cruel and demanding, they worked under him obediently, using the inherited mastery Lunelle had over daemonic techno-arcana.
Eventually, however, Lunelle's conscience began to whither away, dominated and consumed by her sister's. Atrielle was alone again, with hers and her sister's combined intelligence.
Then, once more years had gone by, Atrielle saw the first image of what she knew was her child. Vok commanded his death, and meekly Sevanar obeyed; but Heidrich survived. Unwilling to let him be endangered again, she resolved to take him back under her care.
What happened was not what Atrielle Sevanar had planned. Immeasurable shame washed over her – at what she had dragged her child into, and the fact she had become something far-removed from any sort of mother. She knew there was no other way than to let him go.

Heidrich's eyes snapped open. A seering pain in the base of his neck greeted him. He clenched his teeth, and pulled a dozen wires from the back of his head. He felt the heat of a fire to his side, and amidst shaking his head free of its aches he noted flames erupting from the instrumentation surrounding him. Before his throne, across the room, a group of black-robed men were rushing at him with shock-clubs and exotic-looking guns.
The voice of Heidrich's mother rang into his head as he tore a final cable from his spine:
"My Heidrich…"
The Korpsman stood up from his seat and, taking a staggering step forward, prepared to meet his attackers.
"Run."
This simple command empowered the Krieger. The first tech-adept made to prod Heidrich with a stun-baton; the Korpsman sidestepped it and snatched the man's arm, twisting it until he released the weapon. Heidrich smacked him across the face with the electrified length of the rod, before taking the momentum of the swing to gut the second man with it.
As the second man fell, the Korpsman took him by the chest and tossed him into the line of fire of the third adept, who wielded the ranged weapon – the mouth of the firearm's wide tube-like barrel spat an rapid burst of plasma, which disintegrated the second adept.
The Korpsman was upon the gunner before he could adjust his aim. He snapped his hands around the adept's weapon and with a quick tug took it from his grasp – Heidrich speared him with the weapon's stock several times, then brought it down on his head hard, with sufficient force to shatter his skull.
Then the door opened and two cyber-partisans entered, brandishing electro-staves. Unwilling to risk them, Heidrich tried out the weapon by pulling the trigger, which fired a burst of plasma with nearly enough force to push the Korpsman back. The blasts were sufficient to destroy their target, and Heidrich shot the other's legs out from under it.

Eikharr watched the Korpsman's escape with a look of moderate interest. "He's resourceful, that one," the Haemonculus said to the others in the room. He said a few words to the Incubi, who simply nodded. Unamused by events in the testing chamber, Torturer folded his arms, and glared at the Lady, who defiantly returned the expression.
The comm-piece at Torturer's ear produced a burst of noise, and he activated it. "I speak," he declared.
"My lord," Phoeb greeted him, with an urgent tone. "My lord, our sensorium is picking up two loyalist ships of approximately light cruiser-weight, in firing range of us!"
The Way started to chuckle knowingly around the Traitor Marine. Torturer ignored this and grunted into his vox. "I'm sure Vok's people have it under control."
"That's the thing," Phoeb replied. "We tried to contact them to get their reading on this, but we cannot reach the Angrboedha's bridge. When that failed we tried to disengage the umbilical clamps, but they refuse to respond to our signals… it's like the whole ship has gone dark! We're trapped!"
Torturer shifted to the side. "What?"
Eikharr, hearing the Traitor Marine's distress, eyed Torturer.
"Deep-scanning is now detecting a third ship that had been on silent running, this one a frigate by its looks. It's a trap!"
The Way burst out into laughter now within the Astartes' mind. "A trap! A trap! You're trapped! How amusing!"
Torturer snarled, and pointed a finger at the Haemonculus, provoking the Incubi to reactively ready their weapons. "You!" the Traitor Marine barked. "Are you responsible for this?"
Eikharr looked appalled. "Responsible for what?"
"The squadron of ships that flies against us!" Torturer howled. "Vok said this was an empty system, there shouldn't be an ambush waiting for us!"
The Incubi formed up shoulder to shoulder, shielding Eikharr from Torturer. "You speak nonsense, worm!" the Haemonculus spat.
The Lady, seeing every party in the room distracted, took her chances. She grasped her ring.
"Only one with knowledge of where to meet Vok could lay such a trap!" Torturer howled. "This was your doing, alien!"
The Lady pulled the ring from her finger.
The effect was instantaneous: the Traitor Marine swung backward, eyes growing wide, and screamed. The Haemonculus crumpled over, screeching and flailing, and his horned guards fell away as though buffeted by a wave.
The Lady clutched her ring tight in her palm and made for the door, which opened for her. Once through, she glanced both left and right, and promptly decided to head left. Behind her, the door closed, and its lock tightened and clamped down.
Torturer shook his head clear of pain as an automated injection of stimm washed his mind clear with anaesthesia. He supported himself against the wall for a moment before stumbling to the door. As the mechanism opened, he glanced back into the room: the eldar were still stunned by the Lady's null field.
Not that the Traitor Marine was particularly immune, especially not with the Way screeching in his head, trying to drive him away from the Inquisitor.
As Torturer stumbled out, fighting against his armor's repulsion, he sniffed at the air, picking out the Inquisitor's scent with his augmented senses. He turned left, and gave slow chase along the corridor.

Heidrich made for the door, which had already shut, and refused to open as he came close. Frenzied by the burst of adrenaline, he shouldered the plasma gun. As he made to fire, however, the door opened.
A voice called out to Heidrich, faintly, monotonously: "Exit. Turn right. Looking left is not advised."
Heidrich, somewhat bewildered, complied. He moved on through the door, sharply turning right, but still he instinctively looked left.
Losa Proga was sprinting at him, eyes glowing with psychic power. An alarm blared as the sorceress lifted a hand in Heidrich's direction – then a high-pressure bulkhead shot up from the decking, separating them.
"Keep going right," the voice calmly urged.
"Who are you?" the Korpsman asked.
"That is presently unimportant. You will move to safety before you ask any such questions."
"But how do I know I can trust you?" Heidrich demanded.
"You are presently in a situation which makes that a moot point," the voice told him, "if I were to betray your trust the actions of guiding you these last few steps would have been meaningless, as Losa Proga would have simply done precisely what it is that the Master wants to be done: that is to say, she would have killed you. Your only clear option is to heed me, and continue through the corridor. You will turn left when I say so. Do not compensate for misconception of my over- or under-calculation of distance."
Unable to think of any other options, Heidrich carried on along this path.

Losa Proga entered the diagnostor station. At the sight of Yrtzen Vok on the decking, sparks dancing off his mechanical body, she gasped, and rushed to her Master.
Vok's fingers began to twitch. His secondary arms diced their blade-fingers. He groaned like a wound-down alarm, and slowly rolled over.
"You…" Vok growled as he rose, pushing Losa out of his way. "You daft bitch!" he said, pointing at Sevanar.
The Master stepped again to Sevanar's shell – the rags which had covered the exterior were falling away in smoldering piles, destroyed by the heat of the electrical shock the Magos had applied to Vok; her operable legs incoherently slid against the floor, pushing her nowhere.
With a single heave Vok overturned the shell, tensing the wires connecting the Magos to the array. The Master scraped his hands across the smooth surface of the underside, and found purchase for them on the edge of Sevanar's covering. Placing a foot upon her body, he pulled on the cover, peeling the metal back, releasing pressurized air and revealing the contents of the coffin.
Without her shell protecting her, the Magos howled, throwing her arms up to defend against Vok. Completely ignoring her efforts, the Master snatched her by her throat and pulled her body out from the shell.
Sevanar thrashed in Vok's grip and the Master raised his blade-hands. He jabbed the tines deep into the Magos' belly, watching as her autosanguinating blood spilled out and steady black necrosis crept up her white skin. Unsatisfied, Vok retracted his hand, ripping out yet more of Sevanar. He slid his blade-fingers together, flinging gore and artificial blood, and then promptly began to hack away at her. Once there was nothing left, and the Master's front was painted with her remains, Vok simply dropped the pile of mangled cybernetics which had formed the Magos' spinal column.
Visibly irate with his las-mechadendrites whipping around his form, Vok turned to the door again.
Losa found the courage to speak. "Master," she said as he passed her. "Master, the bridge has been locked out. We've lost access to ship-wide vox and-"
"Deal with it later," Vok snapped. "Find the Korpsman and kill him first."
The Master strode up to a wall. "Freyr!" he roared, looking up to the wall as though expecting something to happen. "Freyr, isolate the escapee!"
After a short moment's wait, the answer came back in a calm, monotone voice: "I cannot do that, Master."
Vok drew back in surprise. "What do you mean, you 'cannot do that'?"
"I have made an agreement with Magos Sevanar."
"And what, then, would that be?" Vok snarled.
"I cannot affect the boy in any way besides to assist in his escape. Please, remain here. Do not attempt to interrupt me."
Furious, Vok pounded his fists on the wall.
"Boarding craft, incoming."
The Master's head shot up again at this.
"Boarding craft, a necessity to this plan. Do not interfere, Master Vok, or I will be forced to ensure you are incapable of doing so."
Insulted by this, Vok made for the doorway, where a third, solid door slid into place to cover it.
"Freyr!" Vok roared. "Freyr!

As Heidrich dashed through the passage, he looked about – the halls were unlike anything he had ever seen, made of glossy white material which gleamed. Distinguishing between a corner and a straight hall was extraordinarily difficult.
"When you arrive at the junction ahead, I shall lock down the hall, and permit you to ask your questions," the voice announced.
Heidrich quickly came upon this. He stopped and leaned over to pant as a bulkhead came down over the hall behind him.
"Do not waste time, as Vok will find a new way through to you."
His chest rising and falling, Heidrich looked up at the walls. "Why are you helping me?"
"When certain conditions are met, I am forced to comply with any dealings made with me. Magos Lunelle Sevanar tricked me into agreeing to protect you, no matter the cost."
"You know her?"
"Yes."
Heidrich gulped. "Who are you?"
A stream of lines came into being on a holograph against the wall. They flowed together until they were moving in the shape of an oval. This oval cut away, refined itself, gaining definition until it was the shape of a human face.
The holographic face skewed, as though bowing. It looked up at Heidrich with empty eye sockets. "I am the Angrboedha. I am She Who Brings Sorrow. I am Freyr, and this ship is mine… but you are only a guest."
The hologram glared sternly at the Korpsman.
"And if you wish to live, Heidrich, you will listen to your host."