"Beacon 07 — Silence Below"
Hive Prime — Level 144, "The Hallowed Furnace"
An area once used to cremate heretical texts now churned with darker flames.
Brother Narthex, of the 5th Company, had last checked in eight hours ago. His squad, five battle-hardened warriors, had dug into a heavily fortified Mechanicus Shrine, holding against waves of heretic tech-scavengers and warp-touched mutants.
The last message was short.
> "Holding position. Relics secure. Minor corruption signs in sector. Engaging in purgation rituals. Awaiting extraction coordinates."
That was eight hours ago.
---
*Aboard the Unyielding Resolve
"Sir," the vox-officer called out, her hands trembling. "We've lost Beacon 07."
> "What do you mean lost?" Captain Noxa asked coldly.
> "No signal. No life signs. No transponder. It's like the whole grid was... scrubbed."
Librarian Alexander's expression hardened.
> "They didn't die. Not like that. Not without a scream, not without glory. This was done… intentionally."
Chaplain Durandal stepped forward, his skull helm humming with static.
> "I warned you. The taint on this world runs deep. There are fates worse than death."
Alexander's eyes narrowed.
> "Deploy an Inquisitorial cipher drone. I want that site scanned to the molecule. If the enemy has turned them... we must know."
> "And if they turned willingly?" Noxa asked.
> "Then they were never ours to begin with."
---
Meanwhile — Deep below Hive Prime
In the heart of the melted forge-temple, symbols flickered in the shadows. The Imperial Aquila above the altar had been split down the middle — one half remained, the other replaced by the eight-pointed star.
Blood soaked the gears.
Bolter shells littered the floor.
And five massive, black-armored figures stood in silence.
Their chapter symbols were scratched out.
Their purity seals, burned away.
Only one spoke.
> "We served a corpse. Now we serve the truth. Let them come."
"Beacon 11 – The False Signal"
Hive Tarsis – Level 22 – "Crownplate Adminspire"
What remained of the 98th Virellian PDF crouched behind shattered columns in a once-holy Imperial courthouse, now blackened and crumbling.
Among them stood two Astartes of the Crimson Talons, their armor chipped, visors dimmed by ash. Brother Malchior and Brother-Retributor Galleon — wounded, low on ammunition, but unbroken.
> "Hold. Beacon's active. Extraction inbound," Malchior growled.
Overhead, the skies cracked with thunder. The buzzing howl of a Thunderhawk Gunship approached — wings of salvation.
> "This is Vengeful Light, inbound to Beacon 11. Stand by for pickup."
Cheers erupted among the PDF. Men rose from cover. Flak jackets raised. A few even cried.
Then... something shifted.
Malchior's enhanced senses caught it first:
Too quiet. Too exposed. Too easy.
He looked up — and his HUD flickered.
Then the vox cut to static.
> "No—wait—ABORT!"
Too late.
As the Thunderhawk lowered its ramp, welcoming survivors, concealed emplacements on the adjacent towers sprang to life — lascannons, autocannons, missile racks.
Ambush.
A massive detonation engulfed the left thruster. The Thunderhawk spun mid-air, hit by a krak missile, and crashed into the upper façade of the spire.
> "IT'S A TRAP!" shouted Galleon, dragging a wounded Guardsman behind cover.
Heretic forces emerged from the rubble, some disguised as fallen PDF. They tore into the real survivors like wolves among sheep.
Malchior activated his power axe, roaring in fury. He cut through five in seconds — but a plasma blast scorched his leg, sending him to a knee.
Galleon triggered his last frag grenade and leapt into a heretic cluster, detonating in a final act of vengeance.
---
*Aboard the Unyielding Resolve
> "Ma'am," the vox-officer whispered. "Beacon 11... it's gone. Thunderhawk Vengeful Light destroyed. No survivors confirmed. Enemy forces faked the beacon signal."
Captain Noxa Xinoxis' knuckles turned white on the command rail.
> "Those bastards… they're baiting us with our own."
Chaplain Durandal stepped forward grimly.
> "I will record them as Martyrs by Betrayal. Their names will be remembered, their wrath delivered."
Librarian Alexander turned to the bridge crew.
> "Scrub all unconfirmed beacons. Verify them by gene-code alone. No more blind rescues."
Location: Hive Harkon – Sub-Level 3 – Cathedral of Transcendence
The ruined cathedral flickered with unholy light — veins of warp-fire pulsing through its broken stone. At its center knelt Brother-Sergeant Caedon, helmet off, eyes wide with horror.
His hands trembled. His bolter lay discarded.
> "What… what are you doing in my head?" he whispered, breath ragged.
Across from him stood a figure clad in rotted robes, antlers of bone twisting from a warped hood. An enemy psyker, its mouth unmoving, but its thoughts thunderous.
> "You remember. Don't you? The screams… the civilians… the ones you didn't save. They still echo. The Emperor didn't answer you then… why would He now?"
Caedon clutched his temples. He saw flashes — not his own memories, but dark reflections, twisted and poisoned.
He saw himself killing innocents.
Failing his brothers.
His Primarch turning his back.
> "No—! I'm loyal. I AM LOYAL!"
> "Then prove it. Silence the voice of doubt. Start with the one who follows you now…"
Behind him, Brother Altus, a battle-brother of the Hammers Imperious, approached slowly.
> "Caedon, you're not well. Purge your mind. I'll call for extraction. We can—"
BLAM.
The bolt round took Altus in the throat.
He staggered, staring with disbelief — not fear. Just… sorrow.
Then another shot. And another. Until there was nothing left of his helm.
Caedon stood, eyes glassy, sweat pouring down his brow.
The psyker was gone. Or perhaps, now… inside.
He reached for his vox.
> "Beacon 17 compromised. Sector secured. No loyal forces remain. Stand down any retrieval…"
He paused.
> "I repeat: Beacon 13 and 17 are silent."
Then he crushed the beacon transponder in his hand.
---
*Aboard the Unyielding Resolve
"Sir! Two beacons just winked out simultaneously — same sector. No sign of engagement. Just... gone."
Alexander looked up slowly.
> "Caedon... no. He was one of the strongest."
> "Not anymore," Durandal said grimly. "Mark them both: presumed corrupted."
Captain Noxa nodded.