Malko stumbled backwards, remembering the stories goodwife ingrid used to tell him as a child, grisly tales of a changeling folk who came from the skies to steal the innocent away into hell. Another emerged, then another, then a dozen at once, screaming out of the skies like the poisoned darts of a hunter-god. It looked for all the world like a sharp blade of craft had burst out from the heart of the rift above, impossibly close, and it was soaring straight for him. He fumbled for the comm-link to report the strange vision to commisar Radczech, but his voice caught in his throat. It seemed to split and grow outwards, opening like a mouth or baleful eye. ![]() Better that we had all burned in the fires of Horus ambition than live to see this. This bloated, rotting carcass of an empire is driven not by reason and hope but by fear, hate and ignorance. His brow furrowed as he spotted a point of jade light within. 'Why do I still live What more do you want from me I gave everything I had to you, to them. The disc of the red moon slid across the sun until it's rays were no more than a fiery halo framing a dark void. "private Malko stared up in wonder as the eclipse manifested with stately grace above him. ![]() I'm afraid that would be far too boring."
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