Storm Of Iron(科幻战争)-第57章

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his　gauntlet　around　Kelmaur's　neck　and　bunched　his　power　fist　above　the　sorcerer's　head；　poised　to　pound　his　skull　to　destruction。
'You　knew　the　Imperial　Fists　would　come；　did　you　not？'
'No！　I　swear！'
'You　are　lying　to　me；　Kelmaur；'　snapped　Forrix。　'I　saw　the　look　on　your　face　when　you　told　the　Warsmith　that　the　defenders　had
not　managed　to　send　a　warning。　You　lied　to　him；　didn't　you？　There　was　a　warning　given；　wasn't　there？'
'No！'　wailed　Kelmaur。　Forrix　slammed　his　power　fist　into　Kelmaur's　face；　deactivating　the　energy　field　at　the　last　second。
Kelmaur's　nose　broke　and　he　spat　bloody　teeth。
'Do　not　lie　to　me　again　or　I　will　keep　the　fist　active　next　time；'　warned　Forrix。
'I　did　not…　know　exactly；　but　I　feared　there　had　been　a　signal　sent。　It　was　so　weak　I　knew　it　could　not　have　left　the　system　and
believed　that　no　one　would　hear　it。'
'But　someone　did；　didn't　they？'
'So　it　seems；　but　I　took　steps　to　try　and　prevent　any　intervention。'
'What　steps？'
'I　despatched　the　Stonebreaker　to　the　system　jump　point　to　intercept　any　reinforcements。'
Forrix　groaned　at　Kelmaur's　foolishness。　'And　it　never　occurred　to　you　that　this　might　well　have　allowed　them　to　approach　the
planet　in　the　first　place？　Your　stupidity　is　galling。'
Forrix　released　the　sorcerer　and　shook　his　head。　'Answer　me　this　then；　Kelmaur。　Why　are　we　here？　Why　does　the　Warsmith　bid　us
attack　this　place？　What　drives　us　towards　this　citadel　with　such　haste　and；　more　importantly；　what　is　happening　to　the　Warsmith？'
The　sorcerer　did　not　answer　immediately　and　Forrix　reactivated　his　poed　away；　but　not　quickly　enough。
The　Iron　Warrior　gripped　his　robes　and　dragged　him　to　his　feet。
'Speak！'
'I　dare　not！'
'You　will　tell　me　or　you　will　die。　Decide　now；'　snarled　Forrix；　drawing　back　his　fist。
'Gene…seed！'　wailed　Kelmaur；　the　words　tumbling　from　his　lips　in　a　desperate　rush。　'This　citadel　is　a　secret　bastion　of　the　Adeptus
Mechanicus。　They　store　and　monitor　the　purity　of　the　Adeptus　Astartes'　gene…seed　here。　There　is　a　laboratorium　hidden　beneath
the　citadel　with　enough　genetic　material　to　create　legions　of　Space　Marines！　The　Despoiler　had　given　the　task　of　its　capture　to　the
Warsmith　in　return　for　his　ascension。　If　we　are　successful；　the　Warsmith　ascends　to　daemonhood！　If　we　fail；　he　will　be　destroyed；
reduced　to　the　mindless　horror　of　spawndom；　cursed　to　live　forever　as　a　writhing；　mutated　monstrosity。'
Forrix　lowered　Kelmaur　as　the　implications　of　such　a　prize　sank　in。
Gene…seed。　The　most　precious　resource　in　the　galaxy。　With　such　a　prize；　there　would　be　no　limit　to　the　Despoiler's　power　and　his
Black　Crusades　would　carve　a　new　empire　from　the　ashes　of　the　Imperium。　The　scale　of　such　a　vision　astounded　even　Forrix's
jaded　senses。
Daemonhood！　To　become　a　creature　of　almost　limitless　potential；　with　the　power　of　the　warp　to　call　your　own；　to　be　able　to　mould
reality　to　your　own　ends　and　become　master　of　a　million　souls。　Such　a　prize　was　worth　any　cost　and　Forrix　now　understood　the
Warsmith's　all…consuming　need　to　break　into　the　citadel。　And　if　that　meant　sacrificing　every　warrior　here　to　achieve　those　ends；
then　that　was　a　small　price　to　pay　for　immortality。
Such　a　prize　would　be　worth　risking　everything　for。　To　travel　in　realms　beyond　the　ken　of　mortal　men；　where　nothing　was　denied
and　every　possibility　could　be　played　out　was　a　dream　Forrix　could　well　understand。　His　flinty　gaze　locked　with　Kelmaur's。
'Tell　no　one　what　you　have　told　me；　or　the　Warsmith　shall　hear　of　your　folly。'
'He　would　not　believe　you；'　whined　Kelmaur。
'That　is　irrelevant。　If　the　Warsmith　even　suspects　you　have　deceived　him；　he　will　kill　you。　You　know　this　to　be　true；'　promised
Forrix；　stalking　from　the　tent。
Now；　deep　in　the　dim　tunnels　below　the　planet's　surface；　Forrix　watched　as　a　gang　of　emaciated　slaves　dragged　back　another　load
of　excavated　soil。　The　tunnel　was　advancing　and　soon　the　Iron　Warriors　would　be　inside　the　citadel。
Forrix　smiled；　picturing　the　limitless　possibilities　ahead　of　him。
LARANA　UTORIAN　WATCHED　as　Kroeger　placed　his　helmet　on　the　iron　frame　and　stood　naked　before　her。　His　body　was　a　mass　of
scar　tissue；　his　slab…like　muscles　powerful　and　well…defined。　But　she　had　a　sense　of　diminishment；　a　sense　that　without　his　armour
he　was　somehow　less　terrifying。
Graham　McNeill　？Storm　of　Iron？
His　voice　was　dull　and　lethargic；　and　as　always　after　his　slaughters；　his　movements　were　sluggish；　as　though　bloated　with　the
blood　he　had　consumed　in　his　butcheries。
She　kept　her　hand　tucked　within　her　jacket；　its　flesh　pink　and　raw　where　she　had　worn　the　gauntlet。　The　skin　still　burned　with　the
sensations　that　had　wracked　her　body　as　renewing　fire　seared　her　from　the　inside　out。　Already；　she　felt　her　strength　returning。
New　flesh　filled　her；　monstrous　vitality　pulsing　through　every　fibre　of　her　being；　strength　coursing　along　every　artery　and　vein。
Her　heart　pumped　with　power　and　she　saw　with　a　clarity　she　had　never　experienced　before。
The　sense　of　impending　revenge　was　intoxicating　and　she　had　to　keep　the　excitement　from　her　face　as　Kroeger　sullenly　bade　her
once　more　clean　his　armour。　He　stumbled　towards　a　corner　of　the　dugout　and　collapsed　into　blood…gorged　unconsciousness。
Larana　calmly　approached　the　corrupted　armour；　feeling　its　soundless　call。　She　smiled　as　she　felt　its　silent　approval　and　removed
the　gauntlet　she　had　first　worn：　lifting　it　to　her　lips　and　sucking　on　the　fingers；　tasting　the　blood　and　feeling　its　power　suffuse　her。
Yes；　the　blood　is　the　power；　it　fills　you；　drives　you。　It　carries　your　passions；　your　lusts；　your　hate　and　your　future。　Only　the　blood
can　save　you。
Larana　nodded；　the　words　making　complete　sense　to　her。　She　could　see　clearly　now。　To　survive；　she　must　look　to　whatever　power
offered　her　a　chance　to　exact　her　revenge。
She　thrust　her　hand　into　the　gauntlet；　throwing　her　head　back　in　rapture　as　power　flooded　her　limbs；　hot　and　urgent。　The　skin　of
her　arm　stretched　as　muscle　tissue　grew　and　swelled；　layering　upon　her　bones　with　grotesque　speed。
Yes！　Yes！　Now　the　rest　and　our　bargain　will　be　sealed…
Piece　by　piece；　Larana　removed　Kroeger's　armour　from　its　frame；　donning　each　piece　without　conscious　thought。　Though
designed　for　a　warrior　far　larger　than　her；　each　portion　fitted　her　exactly。　Strength　poured　through　her　and　Larana　laughed　as　her
body　swelled　with　terrible　power。
As　each　piece　adhered　to　her　body；　she　felt　the　armour　become　more　and　more　part　of　her；　its　undulating　inner　surfaces　moulding
to　her　own　body；　dark　tendrils　of　energy　pushing　inside　her。
Deep　within　Larana；　a　tiny　voice　screamed　in　warning；　but　it　was　lost　in　the　howling　gale　of　powerful　change　that　remoulded　her。
It　shrieked　to　her　of　the　price　to　be　paid　for　such　abominable　gifts；　but　consumed　with　hate；　Larana　pushed　it　aside。
One　last　step；　Larana。　One　last　bargain　to　be　made。　You　must　give　me　all；　hold　nothing　back。　Your　soul　must　be　mine　and　then　we
shall　be　one。　We　shall　become　the　Avatar　of　Khorne！
Larana　lifted　the　grinning；　skull…masked　helm　and　slowly　lowered　it　over　her　head。
'Yes；'　she　hissed。　'Take　it　all。　I　am　yours…'
And　the　warning　voice　within　Larana　was　pushed　to　the　lid　of　her　creaking　skull　as　the　Armour　of　Khorne　claimed　her。
Her　last　act　as　a　human　being　was　to　scream　as　for　one　terrifying　instant　she　realised　the　scale　of　the　mistake　she　had　just　made。
KROEGER　WOKE　SUDDENLY；　a　scream　dying　on　his　lips　as　he　rose　from　a　dreamless　void；　terrifying　in　the　oblivion　it　promised。　His
breath　came　in　short；　dry　heaves　and　it　took　long　seconds　before　he　could　remember　where　he　was。　Dim　light　filtered　into　the
dugout　from　the　doorway；　and　Kroeger　was　suddenly　struck　by　a　sense　of　something　deeply　wrong。
He　pushed　himself　to　his　feet　and　padded　through　to　the　entrance　of　his　dugout。　Shadows　coiled　and　his　belief　that　there　was
something　amiss　grew　to　a　raging　certainty。　He　reached　for　his　sword；　his　fury　growing　as　he　saw　that　it　was　missing。　Had　the
little　human　bitch　taken　it？　She　would　pay　for　such　a　transgression　with　her　life。
Suddenly　Kroeger　became　aware　that　he　was　not　alone　in　the　dugout　and　he　turned　around　slowly。　There　was　a　gloom　here　that
was　not　wholly　natural　and　he　squinted；　trying　to　make　sense　o