The Psalm of Reloading was nearly drowned out by the numbing roar and cacophony of squeals and scrapes endemic to the amber-lit bowels of a war machine. Ceaseless combat had taken a toll on the crew, but their focus couldn’t waver; Tigris Maxima’s machine spirit was a fickle, volatile beast.
Adeptus Ministorum The room was small, cold with a tense lingering atmosphere devoid of any sense of intimacy. The droning hum of a floating servo-skull dispelled any illusion of calm,…
‘It was his time to go,’ the Guildmaster said. ‘It was a good funeral.’Perhaps, in the old days, scattered ashes would have painted sparkling diamonds across the Core. A glittering…
‘Sixty seconds,’ the lieutenant spoke over the vox. ‘Sixty?’ I said to Obed, my loader. ‘Until the next wave,’ he stared at me aghast. The next wave out of how…
Graka da Oddmek knew bombs – loved ‘em. Knew humans too – but didn’t like ‘em at all. It only took him a moment to decide that the shiny console with the flashing screen was definitely a human bomb. He gave it a quick thump to see if it’d stop.