deal with.
was no more than two kilometres to the south, and with it were
and
both Reavers with victory banners descending from their armour plating that would put mid- range Titan princeps from any other Legio to shame.
Nothing the beasts could hurl at them would break such a formation. Even the largest gargant would fall to
came the aggravated spurt of machine code from his fellow princeps, Feerna of
Havelock spent a quarter of a second consulting his internal tracking runes. The link to his Titan's auspex sensors formed a rough, instinctive knowledge of his kin's locations in his mind.
was a half-kilometre to the north-east, moving at speed through a small cluster of iron smelteries. It would have been in visual range, had the space between the two Titans not been obstructed by ruined manufactories.
she complained.
Feerna? Feerna?
'
Registering energy discharge of significant size to the north-east,' Havelock's moderati called out.
'Confirmed,' murmured the tech-adept that hunched in a station behind the princeps throne.
Havelock tried once more. 'Bring us about and move north-east at aggressive intent speed. Everyone be ready.' He twitched in his restraint throne as the Titan obeyed his pilot's urgings. The connection feeds were alive with subtle static, itching at his nerves.
was keen. It had sensed something.
And then it hit Havelock, too.
'Hnnngh,' he drooled through clenched teeth, shuddering against the leather bindings that restrained him in place. 'Hnn… Hw…'
The pain of
mortis-cry faded, and Havelock breathed again. Feerna was gone, as was her Titan. She'd been a Warhound, and her link to the others was tenuous and weak in comparison to the strength of a bond to the greater god-machines. The pain bled away fast, bringing relief in its wake.
The Titan clanked its way down a subsidiary alley, its weapon-arms rising in readiness. Havelock sent several mental urgings in quick succession, triggering autoloaders, coolant valves and bracing pistons into activity.
rounded the corner at the alley's end, stalking out into the main street. As it had been since this morning, this sector was still aflame because of the destroyed refineries and petrochemical stores, with about half the buildings finally quieting into smouldering ruins.
But the fighting was done here.
'Where is the bastard?' Havelock whispered.
The auspex chimed - once, weak.
'We have movement,' the tech-adept grumbled, not looking up from his scanner console. 'There is—'
'I see, it, I see it. Back away
It came from the black clouds, rumbling forward on a clumsy mess of tank treads and crushing feet. Its body was slanted, tapering to a head that was all brutal jaw and piggish, alien eye- windows. Every metre of its scrap metal torso bristled with tiered weapons platforms.
It was quite the ugliest and most offensive thing Havelock had ever seen, and that was more than simply because it was an affront to the purity of Mechanicus god-machine creation. No, more than that, it offended him because its manifestation before him made no sense. It… dwarfed
It seemed impossibility given form, striding, limping from the oily smoke that blanketed the district.
Havelock pulsed a digitally-translated pict of the enemy gargant across the mind-bond to Princeps Zarha and any other Titan commander in range. It was all the warning he would be allowed to send, for
opened fire the very moment its main armaments cleared the smoke.
was pulverised beneath enough solid, laser and plasma weapon fire to level a city block. Its demise, and the end of Havelock's mediocre career, was marked by a vast crater that would remain for decades after the war had bled the whole world almost dry.
moved onward.
CHAPTER XXI
Stormherald Down
T
he two engines
faced one another across the burning ironyard, as alike in power as they were unlike in dignity. Both were ablaze, both bleeding fire and smoke into the clouded air.
The air between them was a blizzard of weapon fire as secondary turrets and battlement guns spat anti-infantry firepower at each other in the hopes of inflicting as much damage as possible. Inside both Titans, it sounded like a flood of pebbles clattering against the armour-plated hulls.
Inside
the sirens were wailing long and loud.
Zarha writhed in her fluid-filled tomb, her limbs pushing through the blood- pinked water. Psychostigmata was ravaging her, as
wounds played out in a map across her naked body. Where the Titan was battered, she was discoloured by bruising or bent by broken bones. Where the god-machine was rent and torn, her flesh smiled and bled in open wounds. Where
burned, she was haemorrhaging internally.
The Titan's command deck smelled of burning oil and rancid sweat.
'Primary shield layer restored,' Carsomir announced, his hands working at his console with a near-furious focus. 'Core containment holding.'
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