Bloodline by Warhammer

Author:Warhammer [Warhammer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

But you defy the odds once again.' He turned that baleful gaze back toward the Blood Angel. 'One might wonder if you were blessed. Or cursed.'

Rafen drew himself up. 'Whatever the Emperor wills'

Mephiston came closer. 'A question, Brother-Sergeant. What did you see in there?'

'Nothing…' The lie came to him before he could stop himself. He thought of red

sands, a golden warrior, a kinsman millennia-dead. Now, as he stood here in this place of stone and steel, what he had experienced seemed like the fantasy of a fevered mind.

Rafen's hand strayed to his chest, to the place where his progenoid gene-seed implant lay dormant. 'I… dreamed. Nothing more.'

'Perhaps,' said the psyker. 'It is written that the Great Angel was possessed of a

powerful psionic talent. Some say that he read the hearts and minds of his warrior sons as if they were open pages of a book. That he saw his own death at the hands of the Archtraitor. That to him, even the veil of time was a malleable thing.' He nodded. 'The power of Sanguinius resonated through his very blood. Even ten thousand years on,

we know this to be true.' Rafen watched as Mephiston crossed to The Touch of

Sanguine Dawn and stroked it with infinite gentleness. 'These great sarcophagi,' he went on, 'they were built to his design. They are links to his will. And one might

wonder if, after so many centuries of use, if they might not have absorbed some

measure of his eternal power.' He turned back to face Rafen. 'Do you understand,

Brother-Sergeant?'

When Rafen spoke again, the truth welled up in him. 'I saw something,' he admitted.

'What was it?'

'A myth,' Rafen whispered.

'Open it,' commanded the warrior in gold. 'Do it now.'

'My lord—' Brother-Sergeant Cassiel tried to object, but a single sharp look was enough to silence his objections. 'As you wish.' He threw a nod to the legion serfs crowded around the flanks of The Touch of Sanguine Dawn, and as one they opened the petals of the sphere.

Dark rivers of crimson flowed from the interior, running away into drain vents. Light from the Hernia's lumeglobes revealed the figure within, a muscled form pale in flesh, breathing hard. With every passing second, the colour returned to him.

Sarga leaned in. 'The wound has closed. I see no signs of lingering infection.'

'What about the shard itself?' asked Cassiel.

Sarga nodded to himself. 'Destroyed. The sarcophagus disintegrated it, purged all trace of it from his system. He lives.'

'Get him out,' said the gold-armoured warrior.

The serfs did as they were ordered to, and moved to carry the Blood Angel to a grav-litter. He stirred, and pushed them away, standing on his own, blinking in the light.

'We… are freed…' he whispered.

Cassiel gave him a fresh robe. 'Meros. How do you feel, brother?'

He gave a nod. 'I live. Thanks to you.'

'It would seem so.'

Meros turned to see who had addressed him, and a flash of shock crossed his face.

'You—?' But then in the next moment, he composed himself. 'Forgive me. The golden armour… I thought you were… Someone else.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.