‘We have made contact with a Colonel Eleska Revus,’ the Lion told Guilliman. ‘We will relay the substance of our communications.’ He had hesitated before making that commitment, then decided it would be better for his brothers to know what was being said. In this instance, he would want them to understand the reasons for the actions he sensed he would have to take.

‘Who is in command of your operations?’ the Lion asked Revus.

‘I am,’ she voxed back. ‘Our lord governor is dead. General Palher dropped out of contact a week ago.’ Her words were slurred with exhaustion and horror.

‘And your current situation?’ He could foresee what the import of the answer would be. Liberate us. That was the cry that had first come through on the vox. If there had been any trace of hope in those hails to the fleet, it did not sound like the sudden expectation of victory. The Lion had been careful to use the same word when he spoke to Guilliman. Liberation. Not reinforcements. Sitting in the throne above the Invincible Reason’s bridge, he knew that he was, in this moment, a judge more than a military commander.

‘Our resistance is confined to isolated pockets.’

‘Is there any chance of linking up?’

‘No. Even if we could, it would be pointless.’

‘Do not try my patience with defeatism, colonel.’

‘I am not, my lord. I am stating facts. Ever since the Pilgrim came…’ Revus trailed off, the horror in her voice growing so strong that it strangled her words. ‘It destroyed everything in orbit. We couldn’t escape. Did anyone from Episimos Four get away?’

‘They did,’ the Lion told her.

‘Oh. Oh good.’ She sighed with dark joy. ‘Then our culture will survive.’

Perhaps, the Lion thought. The refugees on Thrinos were cut off from the rest of the Imperium. Their long-term survival was doubtful.

‘What was the Pilgrim?’ the Lion asked. He had to, though he did not expect to get an answer any clearer than had been found on Thrinos.

He was right.

‘We don’t know,’ said Revus. ‘It came like a ship, but it was much too big. It brought the change…’ Her breathing was ragged. ‘Nothing is real any more,’ she whispered to herself.

‘Colonel,’ the Lion snapped, breaking into her thoughts before she disappeared into them, reminding her of her duty.

‘Yes, my lord. I’m sorry. My troops are holding a block of the underhive. We might have a few more days. But there is nothing to break out to. The land is turning against us. We lost contact with the southern continent when it attacked the regiments there. These… things… these… My lord, there are billions of them. They cover the land. And there’s a disease, or a corruption. I don’t know how to name it. Our people are changing. This needs to end while any of us are still human.’