The song of the manufactorum became a wail, punctuating each flash with the celebration and lamentation of the materium twisted, and the impossible made real. Hundreds of the pink-fleshed daemons gathered around the base of the nexus, adding their babbling to the chorus. They turned at the sound of the Blood Angels’ arrival. The daemons sent a wave of warp sorcery ahead of them. The Sanguinary Guard and First Company hurled themselves through it. It washed over armour, boiling ceramite and melting it. The wills contained within were strong, made stronger by the crucible of Signus Prime. The Blood Angels withstood the wrenching attempts of change and blasted the abominations out of existence. They waded through the twitching mess of blue matter that remained, and gathered, squad by squad, around the nexus.

Raldoron joined Sanguinius before the mass of the conduits. ‘Melta bombs?’ he asked.

Sanguinius smiled. ‘It seems so mundane a means of destroying the extraordinary, doesn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ said Raldoron. ‘If the myths of the past are real, it seems they should be banished by rituals too.’

‘Naturally.’ Sanguinius was conscious of the feathers of his wings trembling very lightly in response to the vibrations of the manufactorum’s song. He knew more than he cared to about myths. His life had been a constant struggle to avoid becoming one. ‘Only rituals banish nothing. Actions do.’ He swept an arm, taking in the smashed and burned remains of the daemons. ‘They have become material, and so can be destroyed by material means.’ He examined the nexus a moment longer. ‘Melta bombs,’ he agreed, then said it again, voxing the order to the company.

Howls came from the other tunnels. They grew louder in the time it took to set the charges.

Azkaellon drew the Sanguinary Guard more tightly around Sanguinius. ‘Reinforcements are coming,’ he said.

‘Indeed.’ Sanguinius scanned the tunnel openings, choosing the next path. He settled on a corridor on the opposite side of the chamber from where the Blood Angels had entered. It was as large as the passage they had left, and had as many conduits. He saw now that not all of the pipes fed into the nexus. Perhaps not even all those that did were bringing material to the junction. They might be carry­ing something away, too.

There was another consideration. The roar of an approaching mass of the enemy was louder down that tunnel. If a larger force was coming, it might be from something worth defending.