Silence.
The lower vault, moments before deafened by bolter fire and the crash of thunder hammers, fell eerily quiet.
The Witness stood alone among the towering silver pillars.
Its shifting body rippled as dozens of golden eyes scanned the darkness.
It had lost sight of its prey.
For the first time since awakening…
It hesitated.
— Captain Alaric watched from the shadows.
His Vantablack Mark X power armour blended perfectly into the darkness of the ancient vault.
Only the faint green glow of his helmet lenses betrayed his position, and even those had been dimmed to their lowest setting.
Over the company vox, his voice was almost inaudible.
“Hold.” No one answered.
There was no need.
Every Hidden Talon knew the drill.
Every brother became a shadow.
Every shadow became a weapon.
— The Witness slowly turned.
Its borrowed face shifted between Captain Alaric…
Brother Remus…
Brother Leon…
Captain Elias Vorn…
As if searching for the identity that would lure them into the open.
Nothing.
Only silence answered.
— Without warning— A suppressed bolt round exploded against the creature’s left shoulder.
A second struck its knee.
A third hit the back of its skull.
The Witness spun.
No target.
Another shell smashed into its spine from the opposite direction.
Then another.
Then another.
The firing angles changed constantly.
No two shots came from the same position.
The Hidden Talons were fighting exactly as Corax had taught his sons ten thousand years earlier.
Strike.
Disappear.
Strike again.
Never be where the enemy expects.
— The creature adapted.
Its body flattened into liquid shadow.
It flowed across the floor between the pillars.
Brother Felix saw it coming.
“Contact!” His warning came an instant before the shadow erupted beside him.
Power claws burst from the darkness.
Felix rolled aside.
The claws tore through the stone pillar instead, carving six deep furrows through material harder than adamantium.
Brother Remus burst from concealment.
His thunder hammer crashed downward.
The Witness vanished before the blow landed.
The hammer shattered the floor, sending cracks racing across the chamber.
Again…
The creature had anticipated the attack.
— Brother Cassian frowned.
“It predicts us.” Captain Alaric answered calmly.
“Then stop thinking like Space Marines.” The Librarian understood.
Instead of following doctrine…
They began following instinct.
The Witness had memorized every codified tactic.
It could not predict improvisation.
— Across the chamber, Praetor Nemeon reached the same conclusion.
He activated a private vox to his surviving Alpha Legionnaires.
“Forget the Codex.” One warrior laughed softly.
“We never followed it.” The Alpha Legion scattered.
Unlike the disciplined precision of the Hidden Talons, they moved unpredictably, using feints, false retreats, and deceptive firing lanes.
For the first time…
Loyalist and traitor fought in ways that complemented one another.
The Witness turned one way to face the Hidden Talons.
An Alpha Legion meltagun struck from behind.
It turned again.
Brother Corian’s combat blade slashed across its arm.
Before it could retaliate, Brother Gideon’s storm shield slammed into its side, driving it toward the Guardian.
— The Guardian raised all four arms.
Silver light expanded outward in concentric circles.
The Witness stopped.
Its body trembled.
Golden eyes blinked rapidly.
The Guardian spoke once more in its ancient language.
This time…
The Witness answered with unmistakable anger.
The vault shook violently.
Silver pillars cracked.
Fragments of black stone rained from the ceiling.
Captain Alaric shouted, “Take cover!” A massive section of the ceiling collapsed.
Brother Agastus, newly arrived with the Chapter Master’s relief force, charged forward in his ancient Dreadnought chassis.
The falling debris crashed against his armoured frame instead of crushing two Sternguard Veterans.
His assault cannon roared as he advanced.
“For the Emperor!” Hundreds of armour-piercing shells hammered into the Witness.
For the first time…
The creature bled.
Not blood.
Liquid silver.
It dripped onto the floor before evaporating into brilliant sparks.
Brother Cassian stared.
“We can hurt it.” — Above them…
The *Talons of Terra* remained blissfully unaware.
The copies had spread throughout the Battle Barge.
One entered the armoury.
Another walked into the Apothecarion.
Three more headed toward the bridge.
Every serf they passed greeted them respectfully.
Every greeting was returned.
Perfectly.
One elderly Chapter serf paused.
Something felt…
Wrong.
Brother Tiber had served aboard the *Talons of Terra* for almost sixty years.
He knew every member of the Second Company by name.
As one Space Marine passed him, the old man bowed.
“Good hunting, Brother Lucan.” The warrior stopped.
Turned.
And after the briefest pause replied, “Thank you…” “…citizen.” The serf froze.
Hidden Talons never called their Chapter serfs “citizen.” They called them…
“Family.” Brother Tiber slowly looked up.
The Marine smiled.
It was Brother Lucan’s face.
But nothing lived behind the eyes.
The old serf quietly reached beneath his robes and pressed a concealed alarm rune.
A silent alert flashed across the bridge.
— Chapter Master Corven, still deep within the *Merciless Death*, received the encrypted warning.
He opened the message.
**INTERNAL SECURITY ALERT** **POSSIBLE INFILTRATION** **IDENTITY UNCONFIRMED** His blood ran cold.
He immediately opened a Chapter-wide vox channel.
“All Hidden Talons.” “Authentication Protocol Corvus.” Across the fleet, every genuine Hidden Talon answered with the ancient response taught since their days as Scouts.
> “From shadow…” Corven waited.
Replies flooded the vox.
> “…we strike.” Again.
> “From shadow…” > “…we strike.” Then…
One reply came several seconds late.
> “From shadow…” A pause.
> “…we…advance.” Silence.
Corven’s eyes narrowed.
“Seal the *Talons of Terra*.” The bridge officers immediately began issuing commands.
“Lock all internal bulkheads!” “Activate defence servitors!” “Deploy Veteran squads!” Captain Lucien Voss looked toward Corven.
“They’re already aboard.” Corven nodded grimly.
“And now…” He drew his relic power sword.
“…they know where we live.” — Back in the lower vault, the Guardian suddenly looked upward.
Its calm demeanor vanished.
For the first time since awakening…
It sounded alarmed.
> **”The infection has spread.”** Captain Alaric looked toward the ancient being.
“What infection?” The Guardian’s silver halo accelerated until it became a blazing ring of light.
It pointed toward the ceiling.
Toward the distant Battle Barge.
> **”It no longer needs this prison.”** The Witness smiled.
Not with Captain Alaric’s face.
Not with any human face.
Its own.
Featureless.
Ancient.
Patient.
Then it whispered one sentence that echoed through every level of the *Merciless Death*.
> **”The hunt…has become a war.”**