Felix looked through the arch leading into the next spire. Movement registered first upon his auto-senses, then upon his vision.

The noble dead of Ardium were marching to war.

They shambled forwards, clad in ruined finery. They were propelled by limbs that should not, could not possibly work. Their faces were twisted into rictus grins, but in their eyes was hopeless despair.

‘Plague walkers,’ he spat.

‘Worse,’ said Maxim. ‘By the Emperor’s light, their souls are trapped within their carcasses. The pain…’

‘We shall put them out of their misery.’ Felix had to shout to make himself heard. ‘Aggressors, turn about. Immolation protocols. Burn them back. All squads, consolidate on our position. We shall fight our way through.’

A drone exploded with a boom behind him, showering metal gummed with sticky meat across the walkways. Something inside gave out an inhuman scream as it died – half of pain, half of release.

The Aggressors waded into the dead. The plague zombies’ feeble hands and makeshift weapons were no use against the inviolable Gravis plate. They bit at the Space Marines’ limbs, shattering their rotten teeth on ceramite. The Aggressors responded with a boiling wash of chemical fire. The dead still fought as they burned.

Four drones remained. Gerrundium speared one with crackling lightning, searing the daemon from its shell. Another took hits from both Hellblaster squads, and was consumed in an actinic ball of energy.

Intercessors gained the bridge. The dead coming from below were slow, but there were so many that Felix’s small group could not prevail against them.

‘Firing lines! Triple rows,’ he said. ‘We must clear a way through to the Palace Spire!’

Three squads, all missing a member or two now, lined up. The first threw themselves prone, the second knelt behind them, the third stood.

‘Aggressors, back!’ Felix ordered. ‘Intercessors, prepare to fire. Set weapons to full automatic fire. Release these wretches from their torment, and carve our way out of here.’

The Aggressors stepped aside with ponderous elegance. The barrier removed, the burning dead surged forwards, white teeth shining in blackening flesh.

‘Fire!’ bellowed Felix.

Twelve bolt rifles opened up, sending out a wall of mass-reactive shells that gouged a deep and immediate passage into the crowd. Felix joined his men and fired with them.

The dead fell into a thick carpet of twitching limbs, many still on fire.

‘Hellblasters, fire!’ Felix ordered.

Aside from the squad forming the rearguard, all of the Space Marines were on the same level now, firing into the crowd of dead. Walking corpses exploded, or flash-burst into steam when hit by plasma.

‘Advance!’ bellowed Felix.