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was not wholly natural and he squinted； trying to make sense out of what he saw before him。 His armour stood where he had left
it； but there was something different… It took him several seconds before he realised what。
There was someone wearing it。 And they carried his sword。
'Whoever you are； you are dead；' promised Kroeger。
The intruder shook its head。 'No； Kroeger； you are。 We grow weary of you； and have no more need of you。'
Kroeger started as he recognised the voice。 But it was impossible。 It could not be her； not that weak snivelling human。
She would pay for such impudence。 He launched himself forward； club…like fists raised to strike her down。 The woman swayed
aside； slashing the sword across his flank； the blade biting a hand's…breadth into his flesh。 Kroeger roared； blood washing in a
crimson flood from his body。
Before he could recover； the sword struck again； ripping through his belly and spilling his looping guts to the earthen floor of the
dugout。 Kroeger dropped to his knees； a pleading look in his eyes。 The sword came at him again and he vainly raised his hands to
ward off the blows。
The armoured warrior spared him no mercy； hacking him into pieces。 First came his hands； then his arms。 Kroeger flopped onto
his back； amidst his severed limbs and pooling blood as the woman knelt astride him and cast aside the sword。
With deliberate slowness； the warrior removed the helmet and Kroeger coughed thick gobbets of blood as he saw the reborn face
of Larana Utorian。
Gone was the terrified woman he had tortured these long weeks； and in its place was a twisted face； devoid of pity or mercy。 A
face so full of hate that it chilled him to the very core of his being。
She raised her arms high above her head； a dulled bone knife gripped in both hands。
The thing that had once been Larana Utorian plunged the knife through Kroeger's eye socket and into his brain； stabbing again and
again until there was nothing left of her tormentor's skull but a pulverised mass of shattered bone and matter。
FORRIX CONSULTED A dust…covered data…slate； checking on the position of the mine； content it was following the correct path。 The
tunnel had traversed beneath the ditch and he expected to be under the walls within the hour。 He stepped over the corpse of a slave
and watched the activity on the rockface before him。 The drilling rigs could not work this close to the wall for fear of Imperial
detection and so gangs of slaves worked with cloth…wrapped picks and shovels to extend the tunnel。
Graham McNeill ？Storm of Iron？
Human soldiers guarded the slaves with barbed cudgels and electro…prods。 It was a pleasing irony that these fools were
precipitating their own species' downfall。
Satisfied that all was proceeding as planned； Forrix made his way back along the hot tunnel； pushing past teams of cowering
slaves。 He passed various galleries and blind passages designed to disguise the true direction of their attack from the Imperial
sappers。
Iron props supported the roof of the tunnel and sound absorbent mats were laid along its length。 Forrix was taking no chances that
this tunnel might be discovered； though he knew that the enemy must be aware of the tunnelling operation。 There was always the
chance the Imperials might discover it through blind luck。
Forrix had prayed they would not and that his successful demolition of a portion of the curtain wall would restore his master's
favour。
He had not seen the Warsmith since the destruction of the batteries。 The lord of the Iron Warriors had retreated within his pavilion
and had allowed only Jharek Kelmaur into his presence。 He didn't know whether the Warsmith was aware of Kelmaur's folly； but
he fully intended that he would learn of it。 The idea of the sorcerer's downfall was only marginally more appealing to him than
Honsou's。 Why the Warsmith had allowed the half…breed to live after Forrix had told him that it was Honsou's failure that had cost
them the guns on Tor Christo was a mystery to him。
Thinking of Honsou brought his anger to the fore again； and he vowed the ungrateful half…breed would pay in blood for his
usurping of Forrix in the Warsmith's favour。
Consumed with resentment； Forrix almost didn't hear the noises from the rockface until it was too late。 Screams and the crash of
stone startled him from his bitter reverie and he threw aside the data…slate as he realised what was happening。
He grabbed the nearest soldier； shouting； 'Go to the surface and send warning。 The tunnel is under attack！'
Forrix dropped the terrified soldier； who scrambled away from the giant Terminator and sprinted back along the tunnel in panic。
Forrix heard the crack of gunfire and screams echoing through the mine and activated his power fist； the crackling blue arcs of
energy throwing the darkness of the tunnel into stark relief。
The rapid firing of automatic weapons grew louder as he strode through the tunnel； combi…bolter at the ready。 A group of human
soldiers ran towards him； dropping their electro…prods and clubs as they ran in terror from the rock…face。 Throngs of slaves fled
alongside them。 Forrix shot them down in a hail of bolts； stepping over their shredded bodies as he fought his way forward。
Ahead； he saw five figures in yellow power armour beneath a hole blasted in the cavern roof； standing in a ring of dead bodies。
Two Space Marines were advancing towards him； while the others prepared explosives to bring down the tunnel before it could
reach the citadel's wall。 Forrix opened fire before they saw him； the sound of his weapon deafening in such a confined space。 One
Imperial Fist dropped； a series of red craters torn in his breastplate。
Ricochets blew out the glow…globes； sputtering light casting lunatic shadows over the tunnel walls。 The second Space Marine
dropped into a crouch and returned fire with his bolt pistol。 The impacts hammered against Forrix's breastplate； but Terminator
armour had been designed for just this kind of close…quarters fighting and not a single bolt could penetrate the thick armour。
Forrix shot again； swinging his power fist。 The warrior ducked and rolled aside； Forrix's blow smashing apart an iron prop and
pulverising a huge section of wall。 Rock and dust filled the air as he rounded on his opponent。 The Imperial Fist drew a sword； its
blade wreathed in amber fire； but die tunnel was too cramped to wield it effectively。
Forrix batted aside the blade and pistoned his fist through the warrior's chest； smashing his ribcage and ripping out his heart and
lungs。 He pushed aside the bloody corpse； stepping into the main gallery and spraying the Imperial Fists with bolter fire。 One man
dropped； blood washing down his thigh as the others dived for cover。 Bolter fire blasted the rock around him and pounded his
armour。
Somehow a bolt found its way through his shoulder guard and blood started to pour from a wound in his arm。 He roared in anger
and emptied the remainder of his bolter's magazine into the nearest Imperial Fist； the snap of the hammer dropping on an empty
chamber shockingly loud in the cramped tunnel。
Behind him； Forrix could hear the shouts of approaching soldiers。 His bolter empty； he pulled back the arming slide on his combiweapon's
other armament fixture。
The last Space Marine rose from his cover and opened fire； hosing Forrix with bullets。 Forrix rocked under the impacts； bringing
his weapon to bear and fired the underslung melta gun。 The white…hot blast of superheated air punched into the Imperial Fist；
incinerating his torso with a hissing detonation； the oxygen…rich blood in his body flashing to a stinking red steam。
A pile of armoured limbs and a head … all that remained of the Space Marine … clattered to the floor； the gory stumps cauterised
and molten。 Forrix dropped his weapon and swept up a fallen bolter as red…clad human soldiers raced to join him from the surface。
Suddenly； Forrix caught the stench of something vile from the opening in the cavern roof and realised he had to get out of here。
He turned from the rockface and ran past the startled soldiers without a word。 He ran as fast as he could back towards the surface；
but as he heard the roaring thunder behind him； he realised he wouldn't make it in time。
Forrix lurched left into one of the deception tunnels。 He heard screams from behind him and knew that every soldier down here
was a dead man。 The roaring grew louder； magnified by the closeness of the walls。
Forrix continued down the side tunnel； ducking round a bend as the first rush of chemicals swept towards him。
A tidal wave of poisoned chemical waste thundered through the tunnels； diverted from every culvert； septic tank； latrine and nightsoil
pipe in the citadel。 Forrix had smelled the reek of the waste and the acrid tang of the bio…toxins。 He clung onto the rough walls
as the foul； liquid effluent roared through the tunnels； sweeping all before it。
Men were crashed to death against the rocky walls as the vile solution pummelled them； filling the tunnels with excremental
fluids。 Those not killed by the first tidal wave were drowned or poisoned in the toxic waste as it rose to the ceiling； shorting out
the remaining glow…globes and snuffing them out one by one。
Sheltered from the worst of the flood in the side tunnel； Forrix hung on as the grey…brown sludge sloshed around him； rising
higher with each second until he was immersed in the thick tide。 He knew he was in no danger； his armour was proof against the
Graham McNeill ？Storm of Iron？
hard vacuum of space and it had suffered worse fates than this in its long life。
How far up the tunnel the flood of liquid would reach； Forrix had no idea； but guessed it could not be too far。 To effectively flood
the tunnels； this amount of waste would have had to have been diluted with much of the garrison's drinking water。 Perhaps；
believing their salvation had arrived in the shape of the Imperial Fists； the defenders thought they could afford to be cavalier with
their water supplies。
A few minutes passed before the tunnel began to drain。 The Imperials' plan had failed。 Forrix had built scores of such mines and
had had more lethal substances than toxic waste flooded through many of them。 Drainage channels diverted much of the water
into specially constructed flood chambers and the natural dryness of the soil absorbed a great deal of moisture。 The tunnel would
survive； but there would need to be additional props installed to keep it from subsequently collapsing。 Such work would need to
be carried out by the Iron Warriors； since these toxins would remain lethal for many hundreds of years。 But to warriors in power
armour； they were irrelevant。
Forrix shook his helmet clear of thick sludgy deposits and waded back through the waste…filled darkness to the main tunnel；
knowing what must happen next。 Bones crunched beneath his heavy tread as he stepped on drowned corpses。 The toxic waste was
draining rapidly。 As he made his way back to the rockface he checked the action of the bolter； clearing it of obstructions。
Up ahead he could see beams of light stabbing down into the cavern from the hole in the roof and heard the first splash of
something heavy drop from above。 The darkness of the tunnel was no impairment to Forrix； and he saw an Imperial Fist rise to his
feet。 The Space Marine moved swiftly through the knee…deep sludge towards the tunnel mouth。
Forrix shot him in the head as more Imperial Fists dropped to the cavern floor； spreading out as the echo of his shot faded。 Bullets
hammered the rock around him and ricocheted from his armour。 He raised the bolter and swept its fire around the cavern； gunning
down Space Marines as he backed into the relative safety of the tunnel where the enemy could not bring their superior numbers to
bear。 If they wanted to kill him； they were going to have to come and dig him out。
Shapes darted across the opening and he fired at each one as it presented itself。 Forrix laughed as he killed； spraying the tunnel
mouth with bolter fire。 Muzzle flashes lit up the Stygian darkness as gunfire blasted from the walls of the tunnel。 He felt sharp
pain in his side and shoulder as more bolts impacted on his armour。 As mighty as Terminator armour was； it could still be brought
down by sheer volume of fire。
The bolter he ca