Sanguinius spread his wings wide and held them rigid, breaking the speed of his descent. He regained control of his flight and landed in the centre of the Sanguinary Guard formation. Above, the gallery was collapsing, the railing dropping into flame. Orexis and his squad jumped down onto the sloping wreckage and made their way to the ground floor, trapping the plague daemons between them and the Sanguinary Guard.

The roar came again, and a shudder that sickened Sanguinius. It was the mark of a profound wound to the Red Tear. ‘Mautus! Report!’

‘The contact, lord. It’s hitting us.’

‘With what? Is it a ship?’

‘Unknown. But it’s overwhelming the void shields. We’re firing. No way to tell if we’re causing any damage.’

Sanguinius opened his mouth to answer, the roar came again, and the Vengeful Spirit forced itself onto his consciousness. He didn’t believe himself to be on Horus’ flagship this time. His perception flickered between the Spirit and the Tear, and when Horus’ blade struck him, the intensity of the vision almost brought him to his knees.

This is a vision, he thought. Only a vision. It has no reality. Not yet.

He turned his spirits away from the experience of his death. The effort was so great, the taste of blood flooded his mouth.

‘My lord.’ Azkaellon was at his side. ‘What is happening to you?’

‘A psychic attack,’ Sanguinius rasped. Giving it a name was necessary. It was a means of regaining control, the truth as counterstrike. He straightened. ‘We finish here, and we return to the bridge.’ He had to see the enemy in the warp. He had to lead the struggle against it.

His mind kept slipping back to the Vengeful Spirit. His mind, only his mind. He looked out upon the burning Exaltatio, and focused his anger on what had been taken from the Blood Angels here. He held tightly to the loss he felt now, and the future’s grip on his spirit slipped just enough. With the Sanguinary Guard forming a wedge behind him, he brought the final flames to the abominations in the librarium. As he fought, the shadow began to pull away. He saw more clearly. The oppression lifted, and the hull shudders ceased. When he turned from the ashes and smoke of the purified hall, he knew before he reached the bridge that the enemy had pulled away from the Red Tear.

Carminus was speaking with Mautus when Sanguinius arrived.

‘I’m sorry, fleet master,’ Mautus said. ‘There is nothing more we can tell. There is nothing.’

‘What is it?’ Sanguinius asked. ‘Has the foe retreated?’

Carminus looked grim. ‘It left us for different prey,’ he said. ‘The Sable is gone.’