Blades Drawn

"Betrayal was a conceptual force. It was part of a vast sacred ritual. It surpassed our existing philosophy of war and lay beyond the tactical doctrine of the Astartes Legions."

"No one understood the power of betrayal better than the Word Bearers. We had mastered its ways."

Chor looked around the hall. Ultramarines and Word Bearers had gathered together to enjoy the feast.

"What if, at this very moment, the Word Bearers suddenly launched an assault on the Ultramarines? With bolters and plasma, with chainswords and power swords, offering your blood as sacrifice to The Empyrean. What if you and I crossed blades?"

There seemed to be profound meaning in Chor's words. His gaze was impossible to decipher, as though he wished his old friend to realize something—or perhaps it was merely a deeper mockery.

"My brother, I must admit that would be an extraordinarily vile act." Luciel let out a breath.

"Fortunately, it is not real. We have been enhanced and trained beyond human limits, and are immune to fear, but that does not mean we would not be horrified and shocked. We would inevitably be at a loss."

Luciel nodded with great seriousness. He had to admit that this was something their gene-father had overlooked. An enemy that believed betrayal held supernatural power had to be countered.

"For the first time, I regretted the Ultramarines' tolerance and integrity. This was practically an explicit warning, yet he did not harbor the slightest suspicion."

Nykona watched as this XIII Legion officer earnestly discussed the dangers of betrayal with the Word Bearers, without ever considering one terrifying fact: what if the Word Bearers' proposal was not hypothetical?

The atmosphere froze.

A chill from The Empyrean spread through the chamber. Nykona sensed, vaguely, that something seemed to be watching the events about to unfold.

"Can you understand me, my brother, my friend, my Luciel?"

Chor raised his voice and straightened his back, hoping his old friend would react.

"Understand what? Perhaps you could make yourself clearer," Luciel asked.

"I have been asked to join a new path. I need to prove that I have truly devoted myself, body and soul, to this great goal. I need to..."

Sorot Chor's eyes met Luciel's.

Luciel finally understood. If Chor had been compelled to join a new path, then he would inevitably have to abandon the old one.

He was not speaking hypothetically or discussing possibilities.

Betrayal had arrived.

With superhuman reflexes, he released the wine cup in his hand and reached for the bolt pistol at his waist with the greatest speed he had achieved in decades of service. It was an instinct forged through countless trials, while his consciousness still seemed frozen in disbelief.

Chor's plasma pistol was already aimed at Luciel. The weapon, containing a miniature fusion core and powered by hydrogen fuel, activated, and lethal plasma burst forth.

Nykona fired.

A silenced bolt struck Chor's arm at such close range, shattering the protection of his Maximus-pattern arm plate. Heat and shrapnel tore through skin, black carapace, dense muscle, and bones as strong as alloy.

The plasma mass, as scorching and violent as a star, veered from its original path. It should have completely vaporized Luciel's chest cavity, including his armor, his plate-like ribs, and the two superhuman hearts pounding within.

Instead, more than half of his left arm was vaporized. As blood and muscle turned to ash, the intense heat cauterized and sealed the major artery, while the massive impact blasted Luciel away.

His lower body smashed through the table, and the exploding fragments knocked aside the still-falling wine cup, scattering its contents across the deck.

All of it happened in an instant.

"Enemy attack!"

Luciel's pained voice boomed through his helmet's amplifiers, exploding beside the Ultramarines like thunder.

Losing an arm was not a serious injury for an Ultramarine. Even as lingering plasma scorched his flesh, that pain was nothing compared to the betrayal of his brothers.

The Word Bearers had betrayed them.

Luciel's men instinctively wanted to turn around. The sudden explosion and bolter fire made the blood of these superhuman warriors boil in an instant.

But at their captain's furious shout, they restrained that instinct and immediately overturned the tables and chairs before them, rolling into cover.

The prepared Word Bearers, meanwhile, did not lose focus in the slightest. They were somewhat surprised by the Ultramarines' reaction, but did not slow as they raised their bolters and sprayed their battle-brothers with fire.

Howling bolts and searing heat ravaged the chamber. The place of a warm feast now revealed its true nature as a killing ground.

Even with Luciel's warning, more than ten of the seventeen Ultramarines who had accompanied him fell beneath the Word Bearers' guns.

Bolts shattered their power armor and flesh, leaving only vast hollow wounds. Twitching muscles and internal organs could be seen through the ruptures, blackened by heat, while their metal armor glowed red with melting heat.

At such close range, bolt weapons could destroy nearly every part of their defenses apart from shoulder plates and power packs.

Yet no matter what, several Ultramarines still survived. Using cover and the thick marble tabletops as shields, they dragged their badly wounded captain to the rear of the battlefield with lightning speed.

Through his helmet, Luciel stared fixedly at the betrayer's face. Chor, whose arm had been blown off by the sudden bolt, turned his head and gazed into the darkness with equal parts surprise and relief.

"Raven Guard..."

The Word Bearers could not understand when a Son of the Raven had infiltrated this sacred ritual. It should have proceeded flawlessly, serving as a sacrifice offered to the great beings within The Empyrean.

There was no time to think further. Nykona's precise burst fire came again, sending bolts into the heads of Word Bearers who were attacking the other Ultramarines, with a demeanor colder than any machine.

The Word Bearer's head burst apart, blood mist spreading through the air. This sudden third party was like Death's hand clutching their hearts.

Chor did not choose to continue fighting. He ordered his Word Bearers to cover his retreat, then vanished into the depths of the chamber with unparalleled speed.

Though it had not been as perfect as planned, the Ultramarines who died here and the fallen Word Bearers still fulfilled the sacrifice of betrayal.

The bombardment from dozens of bolters tore numerous breaches through the warship's bulkheads. Gas within the chamber, carrying debris with it, was sucked into the vacuum of space. The electromagnetic locks in Nykona's power boots activated, firmly anchoring him to the deck.

"No further explanation is needed. The Word Bearers have betrayed us."

Nykona appeared like a phantom before the remaining Ultramarines. With the support of his battle-brothers, the wounded Luciel rose to his feet once more.

"Notify the Primarch immediately! Tell everyone that the Word Bearers are goddamn traitors!"

At that moment, the repeated flashes of explosions coming from the direction of the Orbital Platform left every surviving Ultramarine completely stunned.

Calth's orbit was burning. The world was weeping.

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