The Unforgiven - Gav Thorpe by Warhammer 40K

Author:Warhammer 40K [40K, Warhammer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Warhammer 40k, Space Marines, Science Fiction, Military, Dark Angels
ISBN: 9781782517856
Google: nI7krQEACAAJ
Amazon: 1849708541
Barnesnoble: 1849708541
Goodreads: 23492372
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2015-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Under Scrutiny

Sapphon watched through the grille of the cell door as Asmodai plied his bloody talent on the body of Cypher. The Fallen had submitted to having his armour removed without argument, though Asmodai had issued a stern warning regarding the sword – a warning issued with such vehemence that Sapphon might have concluded Asmodai was wary of the blade, if such a thing were possible.

With the same meekness, Cypher suffered the blows and cuts laid upon him by Asmodai. The Interrogator-Chaplain seemed inspired, eyes alight with the challenge of breaking the will of the thrice-cursed. Sapphon had seen him many times before, in a semi-hypnotic stupor most of the time. Now Asmodai was relishing every moment of the excruciation.

It was just the first few hours of what promised to be a very long process, but even so Sapphon was impressed by the stoic silence of the prisoner. His body was no stranger to injury. The scars that crisscrossed and punctured his flesh were testament to millennia of battle.

Cypher lay on the slab and stared at the ceiling, looking at some faraway place in his own mind. He barely flinched as flesh was parted by blades and skin seared by brands.

Sapphon was no stranger to these cells and the activities for which they existed. It was rare these days that he took up the cruder instruments of interrogation, preferring instead to use manipulation of the soul and psyche, and the talents of the Librarium, to prise the secrets from those that came to him. Unlike Asmodai, he was interested more in the secrets of the Fallen than their confessions. Perhaps that was why he lacked a single black pearl to his name – the reward given to a Chaplain for each Fallen brought to repentance. When they had revealed their secrets to him, when they were ready to admit their sins, Sapphon lost interest and was willing for others of the Reclusiam to complete the bloody deed.

Despite this experience he found the spectacle of Cypher’s excruciation bordering on the uncomfortable. The Fallen was barely present, only the odd grimace to show that he felt anything at all. In contrast, Asmodai was a grunting, snarling, bestial thing of the shadows. Not once had the Interrogator asked a question in the hours since his arrival. These opening stages were not about the truth, they were about demonstrating the pain that was to come, the pregnant threat of the dire instruments lined up on the shelf next to the captive. It was the proof that any and all measures would be used without mercy.

If there was any expression on Cypher’s face, it was sorrow. A profound sadness in his eyes, brought about by whatever imagined vista he looked upon rather than his current plight. Looking more closely, Sapphon realised why the scene did not sit right in his mind. Cypher’s twitches and lip curls of pain had nothing to do with the ministrations of Asmodai – the Fallen’s reactions were purely to slights occurring in his mind.

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