The spatial geography of the conflict took shape in Carminus’ mind. Based on the relative speeds of the opposing forces, the collision would occur at a point less than half the distance between Davin and the original position of the shell. The wedges of the fleets were aimed at an amorphous swarm of daemonic ships. And coming behind them, a closing fist.

‘The Sthenelus is engaging,’ said Neverrus.

‘Tell them we are coming,’ Carminus told her. ‘Tell them they do not fight alone.’ He advanced to the command pulpit, as if the few steps from the throne would bring him closer to the conflagration.

The grey-black of the void swirled, tightening. In the centre of the view, a star twinkled. It was Carminus’ first sight of the onrushing monster.

The sealed gateway behind the altar pulsed, a vein of bloody light mixing with the vertical white line. A few minutes after the pulse, Azkaellon brought word of the Veritas Ferrum.

The Lion cursed. He punched the altar in frustration. It cracked along its full length. Beside him, Curze was motionless. He was a statue of night and bone, draped in rags and chains. He had not moved or spoken again since the Lion and Guilliman had questioned him. Frozen in horror, he stared at the portal, his eyes fixed on a point beyond the wall, beyond the present, waiting for the possibility that Sanguinius might triumph. The Lion had never seen the Night Haunter so bereft of certainty. All his mockery and taunting knowledge had drained away. Curze had made himself into a monster, reflecting the abattoir he saw the universe to be, and anchoring himself on the inevitability of fate. Even that pillar was crumbling before him now. The Lion could almost have pitied him. The memory of Curze’s victims prevented the Lion from seeing anything other than a first touch of justice descending on the crow.

He would have drawn more satisfaction from Curze’s plight if he wasn’t trapped in uncertainty himself.

Guilliman grunted.

‘Tell me you see our way forwards,’ the Lion said. The inaction since Sanguinius vanished stabbed at him. He was stymied. He had been convinced the Angel had been mad to step into the portal. Now he had proof.

‘I don’t,’ Guilliman said. He pointed at the gateway. ‘But I wonder if the change we see there coincided with the emergence of the Veritas.’

‘Damn Sanguinius!’ the Lion roared. ‘Damn him for the fool he is. I was right to begin with. We should have destroyed this cursed world as soon as we entered the system.’

‘I don’t think that would have advanced our cause,’ Guilliman said. He was studying the gateway as if he could divine answers from the flow of colours in the light. ‘I think Davin was dead until the portal opened. Now there is something active again.’

‘You’re suggesting we evacuate and destroy it now? Assume Sanguinius is dead?’

‘Do you think he is?’