Captain Alaric halted.
The First Company stopped as one.
Behind them, the last Thunderhawk ramp locked into place with a heavy metallic *clang*.
Hydraulic pistons engaged without a single command from the pilots.
Brother-Sergeant Gideon turned immediately.
“Pilot.” No answer came over the company vox.
He tried another frequency.
“Thunderhawk One, report.” Static.
The other transports were equally silent.
Brother Cassian switched to the emergency command channel.
“Battle Barge *Talons of Terra*, this is First Company.” Only the hiss of empty static replied.
Captain Alaric remained calm.
“Range?” Cassian checked his vox array.
“We should be able to reach the fleet from here.” “But we can’t.” “No.” “The signal simply…vanishes.” Alaric looked around the vast landing bay.
“We proceed as planned.” “The Chapter Master knew this might happen.” The veterans acknowledged with a chorus of clicks across the squad vox.
No fear.
Only discipline.
— The landing bay stretched for nearly a kilometre.
Thunderhawks rested neatly within maintenance cradles.
Cargo lifters remained parked beside stacks of ammunition containers.
Refuelling hoses still lay across the deck exactly where they had been dropped.
Brother Leon knelt beside a toolbox left open on the floor.
Inside were pristine tools.
Not a single speck of corrosion marked the metal.
Brother Cassian swept his auspex across the area again.
“No life signs.” “No heat signatures.” He paused.
“…No dust.” Captain Alaric stopped.
“What?” Cassian pointed his auspex toward the deck.
“There should be dust.” “After fifty-one years every surface should be covered.” Instead…
The deck gleamed beneath the lumen strips.
As though thousands of ratings had scrubbed it only hours earlier.
Brother Gideon frowned behind his helmet.
“It has been maintained.” “But by whom?” No one answered.
— They advanced deeper into the cruiser.
Every footstep echoed through cavernous corridors lined with faded Imperial banners.
Some had rotted away entirely.
Others remained untouched.
Portraits of long-dead Imperial admirals stared down from polished brass frames.
Bronze statues stood proudly at intersections.
None had been vandalized.
None defaced.
Everything appeared…
Respected.
The Hidden Talons had boarded countless Space Hulks over the centuries.
They knew the signs of decay.
Rust.
Corrosion.
Warp growths.
Blood.
The *Merciless Death* possessed none of them.
It felt less like a derelict…
…and more like a ship patiently waiting for its crew to return.
— Brother Cassian suddenly raised one fist.
The column halted instantly.
“There.” He pointed toward a side passage.
Fresh footprints crossed the polished deck.
Human.
Bare feet.
Dozens of them.
Every print was perfectly clean.
Not one carried dirt or oil.
They simply appeared upon the deck…
…and disappeared around the corner.
Captain Alaric motioned toward Veteran Squad Gideon.
“With me.” Storm bolters covered every angle as the veterans approached the junction.
Alaric rounded the corner first.
Nothing.
The corridor beyond stretched empty for hundreds of metres.
The footprints ended abruptly.
As though the people making them had simply ceased to exist.
Brother Leon quietly spoke.
“They didn’t turn.” “They didn’t run.” “They just…” “Stopped.” — Far above, aboard the *Talons of Terra*, the fleet battle continued.
The enemy cruisers pressed their attack relentlessly.
Macro shells exploded against the Battle Barge’s void shields, causing ripples of blue energy to dance across the massive barrier.
Master of the Fleet Decimus studied the tactical display.
“Void shields holding.” “Eighty-three percent.” Captain Lucien Voss watched another enemy escort vessel break apart beneath concentrated lance fire.
“Status of First Company?” The vox officer looked up.
“We’ve lost contact.” “Completely.” Corven had expected as much.
“Any sign of the enemy flagship?” “It continues closing with the *Merciless Death*.” Chief Librarian Kaelen looked toward the immense cruiser through the bridge viewport.
“They’re almost there.” “What happens when they arrive?” Corven asked.
Kaelen’s expression darkened.
“I don’t want to find out.” — Back aboard the cruiser…
The First Company reached a massive blast door bearing the Imperial Aquila.
Ancient High Gothic lettering stretched across the lintel.
**PRIMARY HABITATION DECK** Brother Cassian examined the controls.
“No power required.” He pressed the activation rune.
The doors opened instantly.
Warm air drifted from the darkness beyond.
Warm.
Captain Alaric frowned.
“The environmental systems are functioning.” Brother Leon knelt and touched the deck.
“It isn’t just warm.” He looked up.
“The air is fresh.” Not recycled.
Fresh.
Impossible aboard a drifting cruiser.
— Beyond the doors lay an immense habitation district.
Rows of barracks stretched into the distance.
Mess halls.
Shrines.
Training cages.
Everything remained exactly as the crew had left it.
Tin cups still rested upon dining tables.
Decks of Emperor’s Tarot cards lay scattered across recreation rooms.
A half-finished game of regicide sat untouched.
One chair had been pushed back as though its occupant intended to return a moment later.
Brother Matthias quietly said, “This isn’t abandonment.” “No.” Captain Alaric agreed.
“This is interruption.” — Brother Leon stopped beside a dining table.
Steam curled upward from a ceramic mug.
Every warrior froze.
He reached forward cautiously.
The recaff was still hot.
No one spoke.
Brother Cassian checked the temperature.
“Ninety degrees.” Captain Alaric looked around the deserted mess hall.
“Someone poured this…” He glanced toward the untouched cup.
“…minutes ago.” — Without warning…
The lights flickered.
Every lumen extinguished simultaneously.
Darkness swallowed the corridor.
The Hidden Talons reacted instantly.
Helmet optics shifted to infrared.
Storm bolters covered every approach.
Power swords ignited with sharp bursts of blue light.
No one moved.
Then…
Footsteps.
Soft.
Measured.
Walking across the deck above them.
One set.
Then another.
Then dozens.
The sounds travelled through the ceiling from one end of the habitation deck to the other.
Brother Gideon looked upward.
“They’re directly above us.” Brother Cassian checked his auspex.
“No contacts.” “But…” He hesitated.
“I can hear them too.” The footsteps stopped.
Silence returned.
Then every lumen reignited.
The habitation deck was exactly as before.
Empty.
— Brother Remus pointed toward the far wall.
“Captain.” A portrait hung above the entrance to the mess hall.
An Imperial Navy captain stood proudly in dress uniform.
Captain Elias Vorn.
The same officer whose image had appeared repeatedly in the distress recordings.
Something had changed.
Moments earlier the portrait had shown him standing alone.
Now…
Someone else stood beside him.
A giant in black power armour.
Its Chapter markings had been carefully painted over.
Its face hidden behind a featureless helm.
No one had seen the painting change.
Brother Cassian stepped closer.
“The pigments…” He reached out.
“They’re still wet.” Captain Alaric immediately grabbed his wrist.
“Don’t.” The Apothecary nodded silently and withdrew.
Alaric stared at the portrait.
The unknown warrior appeared to be looking directly at them.
Waiting.
Watching.
Almost…
Smiling.
— A sharp burst of static erupted across every vox channel.
For the first time since boarding, a familiar voice broke through.
Faint.
Distorted.
“…Alaric…” It was Chapter Master Corven.
“…respond…” Static drowned the transmission.
Then another voice emerged.
Calm.
Ancient.
Not Corven.
> **”Do not trust the bridge.”** The vox fell silent once more.
Captain Alaric looked toward Brother Cassian.
“Did that come from the Battle Barge?” Cassian slowly shook his head.
“No.” He looked deeper into the cruiser.
“It came from somewhere aboard this ship.” Before anyone could speak again…
A ship’s bell rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The deep, mournful tone echoed through every corridor of the *Merciless Death*.
Brother Gideon looked toward the darkness ahead.
“What does that signal mean?” Captain Alaric knew.
Every Imperial naval officer knew.
He answered quietly.
“It announces…” He drew his power sword.
“…the Captain is coming.” Far below the habitation decks, somewhere within the immense labyrinth of the cruiser, a heavy door opened.
A pair of booted feet stepped into the corridor.
And for the first time in fifty-one years…
Captain Elias Vorn began the long walk to meet the sons of Corax.