Forty thousand years in the future, if you excluded the Warp and asked which godforsaken place in the universe was the worst...
Perhaps Catachan, where even the trees lashed out at people, and the Death World of Krieg, where Geiger counters danced a jig, would both be strong contenders.
But the slave holding cells beneath Commorragh's arenas were surely hell itself.
The Drukhari gathered slaves of every kind from across the universe, selecting the strongest among them to serve as gladiators for their entertainment.
Those chosen as gladiators usually faced endless slaughter, while an exceptionally rare few were deployed onto battlefields by the Drukhari as weapons of war.
As soon as they entered that terrifying prison, pairs of eyes began opening in the darkness, studying these strange newcomers with curiosity.
Bona walked up to a cell door and gazed at the figures lurking in the dark.
"I'm looking for someone, an Astartes named Bals, a member of the Astral Claws. His legion's emblem is a golden lion on a blue field."
"Anyone who can give me information about him will receive the precious gift of freedom."
"Anyone who helps me find him gets a ticket out of Commorragh."
Bona looked at the monstrosities within.
Among them, an enormous four-clawed xenos stepped up to the bars.
"How... can... I... trust... you?" it asked in extremely broken Low Gothic.
"That's your problem, not mine," Bona said.
The xenos extended a long claw and pointed off to one side.
Bona looked that way, then placed his hand on the seemingly bone-made bars.
A moment later, the wraithbone began trembling, giving off faint yet piercing cries.
Then the bars burst apart one after another like firecrackers.
The slaves inside rose to their feet, their eyes filled with a longing for freedom.
But Bona and his companions ignored them and headed straight in the indicated direction.
Limbs reached out from the cages, yearning for freedom. The xenos begged in broken Low Gothic, while the Thunder Warriors behind Bona unhesitatingly used their Bolters to blast off several limbs that reached too far.
As they reached the depths of the prison, they heard a gruff voice.
"Oi, you pointy-eared gits."
"Me big thing ain't fixed yet. Can't go up this time."
"I need a bit longer."
Suddenly, the massive figure felt the cage behind him burst apart. He turned and saw them.
The Ork looked at the towering Thunder Warriors, bigger than any tinboy he had ever seen.
"Gork an' Mork above, those are some right Waaagh tinboys!"
Bona glanced at the Ork. He wore work clothes scavenged from who knew where, his bulging muscles threatening to split the undersized outfit apart, with a heap of tools and scrap strapped to his back.
Unlike the brutal, oversized Orks Bona remembered seeing, this one instead had a hint of... witch doctor about him.
He had heard that Ork society had figures similar to Tech-Priests, who helped the Orks produce an endless stream of war machines. Presumably, this fellow was one of them.
Ork Mekboys were generally the most dangerous members of Ork society, both to their enemies and to the Orks themselves.
Then he turned his head and saw...
A huge heap of junk resembling an oversized iron box, with an extraordinarily ugly grinning Ork face on its front and a wooden board bearing a crudely simplified Imperial Aquila painted yellow hanging above its head.
Horus frowned slightly. No matter how he looked at it, he could not connect this thing with an Astartes.
"Ork, what is this?"
"Oi, you boss tinboy, show some respect! This is the latest invention of me, Gagags Ironklaw!"
Bona frowned slightly. He could sense a faint trace of life within that great heap of scrap metal.
"We're looking for an Astartes called Bals. Do you know where he is?"
Gagags paused, then slapped the heap of scrap with his wrench.
"Bals? This is Bals. A right good Waaagh lad."
"How did he end up like this?"
"Bals got chopped in half by a dancing pointy-ear. He was proper Waaagh, though. Even like that, he chopped the dancing pointy-ear into bits."
"I reckoned you humies make big, right Waaagh tinboys and put dying humies inside 'em, so I knocked one together and stuck this Waaagh lad in it."
Bona's brain stalled for a moment.
He could not understand how this oversized heap of junk, without a single life-support device, was keeping Bals alive. Yet the life signs coming from inside told him unmistakably that Bals still lived.
Gagags tapped the Ork-built Dreadnought with his wrench.
"Oi, Waaagh humie, wake up!"
Bona sensed Bals's life signs becoming more active.
"Ork, what have you put on me? I feel so tired."
"Oi, Waaagh humie, someone's here for you."
Bona saw two oversized "eyes" suddenly flip out on the Dreadnought. The headlight-like eyes turned toward them.
Bals was somewhat puzzled as to why a mortal was here, along with an oversized Ogryn and a group of even larger Astartes.
But then his gaze fell on the Imperial Aquila badges on the Thunder Warriors' chests.
"Emperor above, at last I have felt the Emperor's light in this dark hell."
"Brothers, which Chapter are you from?"
Bona was a little surprised. This warrior's memories seemed to remain stuck in days long past.
"The Thunder Eagle Chapter, Brother Bals. Huron asked us to rescue you," Horus said.
"Ah-Huron, my good brother! Where is he?"
"He's busy with other matters right now. Why don't we leave this place first?" Bona said.
Beside them, Gagags roared in surprise:
"What? You tinboys got a way out? That's impossible!"
"Me lads tried getting out, but they all died."
"Hang on, you look bigger and more Waaagh than me lads. You might actually get out."
Bona frowned slightly.
"Gagags, I will do as I said and take you out of here."
"What, you humie tinboys are that nice?"
Bona ignored Gagags, merely watching the Drukhari who had appeared at the far end of the corridor and were hurrying toward them.
His eyes flashed, their radiance briefly illuminating the dark prison.
In an instant, the wraithbone of every cage shattered, and the shackles binding the slaves broke apart.
The Drukhari still running down the corridor stared in shock at the shattered cages, then...
Branches reached out from the darkness and dragged them inside, followed by piercing screams.
Slaves emerged from their cages one after another, roaring in celebration of their freedom.
A riot erupted at the base of the arena tower, with the savage slaves attacking every Drukhari they could see.
Before you continue