Clockwork tick-tocked with fussy efficiency. The flies’ buzzing set the Space Marines’ teeth on edge, but worse was the hum coming from the rotating spheres.

‘It is a clock, a monstrous timepiece,’ said Maxim. ‘A warp thing.’

‘Can you discern how it works?’ asked Felix.

‘In some profane manner, time itself is sickened by this device,’ said Gerrundium.

‘Can you feel it, my brother?’ Maxim asked Gerrundium. ‘How it reaches out from here, casting a shade over the planet?’

‘I see it as a stain, many armed and ominous, that embraces all to its darkness,’ replied Gerrundium.

‘Such evil,’ said Maxim. ‘And it is not confined only to this room, or even to Ardium alone. Its influence spreads throughout the sector, linking worlds in a dark web of diabolical cause.’ Maxim’s hand traced through the air, pointing out something invisible to Felix. ‘It is this that destabilises the star-realm of Ultramar, allowing the leakage of the warp through space and time, returning the dead to unliving life and tempting the faithful from the righteous path.’

‘How can a machine do such things?’ asked Felix.

‘It is not a machine,’ said Maxim. ‘Not in our sense. It looks like a machine. There is xenos deviltry here besides the machinations of Chaos. Aeldari, perhaps. Those parts are tormented…’ He paused. ‘Like they are a piece of a device made to function contrary to its intended purpose. But it is mostly warpcraft. This device was certainly crafted by Mortarion, the fallen primarch. It has the hallmarks of his work.’

‘Then Lord Guilliman’s information was correct,’ said Felix. ‘Is it safe for my warriors to enter the room?’

‘Safe enough. The device has a perfidious purpose that affects the minds and souls of mortal men. Our warriors should be immune, so long as they focus and do not lose themselves as you almost did, captain.’

‘Then I will call them in and have this thing demolished,’ said Felix. ‘We have seen enough. The dead are at the doors of the Palace Spire. I will call in our transports, as soon as this machine is in fragments, and we will leave.’

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

The Mycota Profundis

The long-dead builders of the Endurance would no longer recognise the interior of the battle-barge. Ten thousand years had passed since its keel had been laid. But time, even of so long a span, was not responsible for its transformation.