The Chaplain wore sacred Mark III Power Armour. Forged during the Great Crusade, this ancient armour was designed specifically for fighting in confined spaces, its superb protection giving its wearer an excellent chance of surviving close combat.
In the present age, every suit of Mark III Armour was a morale-rousing relic on the battlefield. A Chaplain permitted to wear such armour must have held considerable standing.
Evan gave the Chaplain no time to react. He controlled the Power Armour and darted sideways, miraculously dodging an attack that punched through the wall.
A melta blast had turned the spot where the Chaplain had stood into a stream of molten metal. Most of the wall had simply vaporized.
A Combat Knife stabbed backhanded at the enemy, only to snap against armour covered in blasphemous runes. Flying sparks mingled with the traitor's laughter as a Word Bearers Terminator stepped through the gaping hole into the area.
"Traitor!"
"Whoa, ho ho! What kind of mix-and-match combination is this? Seems even 'ill-fated' doesn't begin to describe your fate."
The two voices rang out simultaneously. The Word Bearer's mind raced as he tried to work out exactly what sort of being stood before him.
The armour was Indomitable Pattern, but incorporated components from the Gorgon pattern designed by Ferrus Manus and a variant designed by Vulkan. Its wearer was no veteran of ten thousand battles, either, merely a betrayer who had stabbed its previous master in the back.
How did Evan know? Because the previous master was still hanging from the armour's spikes, and the daemon that had possessed him was still hiding within the suit.
"A Son of War who submits to the Neverborn. A rare collectible indeed."
He had recognized the Chaplain's "Possessed" state at a glance, though it had taken him "quite a