Thule had orbited the Jovian shipyards for six thousand years, hanging high above the gas giant, beyond the Galilean moons, Callisto, Ganymede, Europa, and Io.
Thule was a misshapen rock, its gravity weak.
It had been hollowed out by massive Martian drills, its interior a maze of tunnels, pipes, and chambers.
Millions of servitors, drones, and acolytes toiled in the subterranean labyrinth, transforming it into a vast complex of forge-temples and compressors.
Massive gravity engines formed a pulsing, artificial heart, its metallic tendrils reaching to the surface, supporting the bubble-domes.
Within one of the surface's bubble-domes, Zadkiel, Chapter Master of the Quillbornstood upon a lectern of obsidian.
His noble face radiated fervor. His grey eyes shone with confidence.
The "Mentor of Disorder" gripped the lectern's edge, his commanding gaze sweeping over the thirty ranks of Word Bearers below.
"The hour of dawn has come."
"Discern our fate. Heed the power of the true word."
Three thousand Word Bearers looked up at him, chanting in unison.
"Discern our fate. Heed the power of the true word."
The "Mentor of Disorder's" fist slammed onto the lectern. "We will cast aside falsehood. We will shed the chains of feigned obedience."
"We will show our true colors. We will reveal our true glory!"
He turned and walked towards the great archway behind him.
The thirty captains led their companies through the bubble-dome's reinforced resin-glass, a colossal ship filling their view. Cathedrals rose from its hull, their spires like grasping fingers reaching for the stars.
Around it, Enginseers led their laborers, working on scaffolding, the support pipes spewing clouds of high-pressure gas.
"Zadkiel." A Magos in a deep red robe, holding a staff, walked before him.
"Your warriors will need to familiarize themselves with the ship in batches."
"No." Zadkiel shook his head, smiling.
"I will take my ship."
"That is impossible." The Magos's mechanical voice was laced with anger. "Every ship must undergo a launch ceremony."
"Though your ship was built in secret, it still requires the blessing of the Machine God's servants."
"The Fabricator General will be present to witness the birth of this era-defining vessel."
"My ship has already received the blessing of the true God." Zadkiel raised his power fist.
"I thank Kelbor-Hal for his gift. For that, I have decided to spare your life." He swung his fist, striking the mechanical form.
Bang!
The Magos spun through the air, crashing heavily to the ground.
Zadkiel led the Word Bearers through the winding umbilical-like passage's connecting the ship's loading bay to the bubble-dome, boarding quickly.
The thrusters hummed to life, the Abyss-class vessel straining against the launching clamps.
The red-robed Magi retreated in panic, abandoning the bewildered servitors.
The plasma engines rumbled, a series of explosions spewing fire across the dock.
Lifting gear, assembly components, and scaffolding were torn apart, raining debris onto the rising hull.
A blue scar burned across Thule's surface as a new star rose in the dark void.
On the Furious Abyss's bridge, sunken command pits among the rows of cogitators were filled with Quillborn and crew.
Three image screens flanked the central, raised pentagonal platform, upon which stood the command throne.
Before the throne stood three Word Bearers.
The tallest of the three was only a head shorter than Zadkiel.
One of his eyes was blood red, surrounded by a mass of scar tissue.
"Zadkiel, we will follow you, to glory." Belanos, formerly an assault captain, was deadly and loyal.
"We all do." Ixalon said coldly. He was the Chapter's Chaplain, a master of agitation and torture.
"But we must focus on the task at hand."
"Indeed." Zadkiel said.
He produced a datapad, tossing it to Ixalon.
"Your task is to immediately follow the designs within. Build the chapels. Arrange every altar aboard the ship."
Zadkiel had been given permission by the Black Emperor to openly preach His faith.
The Shadow Sovereign, His light would shine throughout the Furious Abyss.
Ixalon connected the datapad to a cogitator beside the throne, his fingers flying.
"Asymmetrical style. Black as the primary color..."
"It reminds me of Primarch Nareth."
"Our fate, the true master we follow, is Nareth." Zadkiel clasped his hands in an inverted hold.
"He is the Black Emperor. The One True God."
Ixalon and Belanos mimicked the gesture.
Zadkiel looked at the young Reskil, who made the same gesture.
His eyes, obsidian like the Black Emperor's, burned with fierce desire.
He was considered Zadkiel's second.
Though the honor belonged to Belanos, his loyal hound was a perfect instrument and a powerful warrior but lacked other abilities.
Reskil, on the other hand, reminded Zadkiel of himself, of the burning ambition he had felt after becoming a "Mentor of Disorder."
His ambition was hidden behind fervent devotion.
Zadkiel had not trusted Ixalon or Reskil in the past, always on his guard.
Everything changed when he became a "Baron of Corruption."
He had successfully "corroded" them both and had mastered the power granted by the Black Emperor.
After completing the Black Emperor's divine ritual and becoming a "Mentor of Disorder," he had used his "Majesty" to bend the three thousand Word Bearers to his will.
He looked at Magos Gureod, in his black robe, a gear symbol engraved on the bolt-chain around his neck.
"Full power to the plasma engines."
As you command." Gureod's only remaining flesh were his clasped hands, yet he too was "corroded."
Zadkiel entered a sequence into the command throne. "Navigator Escythia."
"Take us to Necromunda."
"Course locked." Escythia reported.
"From there, we will proceed to Abyss Port." Zadkiel rose, addressing Belanos and the other two.
"We will strike a heavy blow against Horus and Lorgar in the Coronid New Zone, using their own ships."
"The word will be fulfilled."
"The word will be fulfilled!" the three echoed.
As the Furious Abyss left Thule behind, emergency sirens blared across the satellite.
Every command console's warning readouts flashed with harsh runes. Servitors swarmed through every passages.
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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