Only they were more complete than he admitted. The destruction of a world had punched a hole through an immaterial net. The Lion wondered how far he could extend the principle.

The vision was tempting in its simplicity. Horus and the rest of the traitors could not rule if they had no bases. The Lion pictured a programme of deliberate, systematic annihilation. If a world had fallen to the enemy, a campaign to take it back was a waste of resources.

Break the worlds and break the foe, he thought.

The Lion suppressed a smile as he and Holguin entered the bridge again. How do you like this theoretical, Roboute? he thought. He would shortly have the opportunity to put it to a practical test.

He sat in the throne once more. He looked through the oculus, at the debris field that had been Episimos III. He nodded to the vox-officer, who opened channels to Guilliman and Sanguinius.

‘Brothers,’ said the Lion, ‘our path forwards is clear. Let us take it.’

Part III

Twelve

Twelve

The Embrace of Bone

Sanguinius felt the shadow before Jeran Mautus reported the contact. His shoulders tensed. His wings straightened, preparatory to a flight of combat. The presence of the shadow pressed on his spirit. He raised his eyes to the shuttered bridge windows as if he could see through them and perceive the enemy beyond. The Angel sensed the shadow was much nearer. Its presence seemed heavy enough to crush the hull of the Red Tear. When Mautus called out, Sanguinius asked, ‘How close?’ Space was a lie, yet battles could still be fought on the foundation of this illusion.

Mautus worked the controls of the auspex array, lips tight with frustration. ‘I can’t get a consistent reading.’ On the screens, the readings of the vague mass of the shadow kept changing. The phantom raced ahead of the fleets, then it was stalking them from behind, then keeping pace on different flanks.

The vox-channels between the bridges of the three flagships were now open continuously. ‘Brothers,’ Sanguinius said, ‘are you detecting an intruder?’

‘We are,’ Guilliman said. ‘Is this the same contact you had before?’

‘It appears to be.’

‘The readings are nonsense,’ said the Lion. ‘It is now between my formations and yours, Sanguinius.’

The changes in the shadow’s position were rapid. At the same time, there was a sinuous flow to them. Instead of blinking in and out of existence in its impossible locations, the spectre moved like a river, like a current, like a serpent. Sanguinius began to see it less as a presence, more as a manifestation of malaise, encircling and weaving its way through the fleets, spreading its influence by the fact of its presence alone.

‘You fought this,’ Guilliman said.

‘To no effect, though we lost some ships.’

‘Combat is futile,’ said the Lion. ‘There is no target. This must be a phantasm of the immaterium.’