The Emperor’s Angel of Death

#3346 - The choice of sacrifice

Bess remained here, clearly intending to provide cover for Sablin, but he himself was visibly detached from the cover, surrounded by restless aliens, while the retreating soldiers were already too far away from him.

"Bess! Retreat, damn it."

"Roger!"

Upon hearing Sablin's command, Bess, clad in Kentarus Terminator armor, moved with astonishing speed, carving a massive arc in the air with his chain halberd, knocking two Necron warriors to the ground. He then turned and sprinted, stabbing three more times in quick succession, leaving several more metallic corpses at the feet of the Eighth Legion's descendant.

But suddenly, something burst out of the burrow dug by the Broodmother Spider: a monster composed of three legs and four arms, possessing the speed of a predator.

It smashed through the ruins, slamming into Bess and knocking him off his feet.

A Destroyer. Sablin had seen more than enough of these troublesome enemies. It seemed that this Necron dynasty had an unusually large number of Destroyers, far more than the Rysza Dynasty he had encountered before.

"Bess!"

Sablin immediately roared and charged towards his comrade. The enemies were densely packed, but he swung his chain halberd, cutting straight through them. Bess, meanwhile, was engaged in a fierce struggle with the monster. But the downed Terminator was clumsy; he could only use his Lightning Claws to repeatedly pummel the creature's chest and abdomen, while the creature tore at Bess's Kentarus Terminator armor with dagger-like claws and a phase glaive.

The Flayed One Destroyer's body and eye sockets glowed with a terrifying bile-green light, filled with hatred for all life.

"Die!"

Suddenly, Bess dropped his weapon, grabbed the creature's claws, and plunged his own Lightning Claw deep into the enemy's flank.

The Destroyer threw back its head and howled. Its phase glaive crashed down, piercing straight through the Terminator's frontal chest plate. A pained roar echoed from beneath Bess's helmet. His armor was completely torn apart, and blood gushed from the seams—but he raised a hand and landed another punch on the monster's face, denting its entire mask and causing sparks to erupt from its eye sockets, making it flinch.

Seizing the opportunity while the creature staggered, Bess drove his knee upwards, sending the Destroyer's body tumbling to the side like a rag doll. However, its four-legged structure granted it extraordinary stability. With a single turn, the phase glaive in its hand slashed downwards—

"No!"

Sablin roared in fury, his chain halberd piercing the Destroyer's lower back. The blow staggered it, and it howled, trying to claw at the wound, but the damned thing refused to fall.

Its waist twisted a full 180 degrees, and the glaive on its arm swung unsteadily towards Sablin, its shattered skull emitting meaningless screams.

Sablin pulled out his war halberd to parry, but the immense force, combined with the fatigue from prolonged combat, sent him sprawling onto his back like Bess, feeling dizzy and disoriented.

Through a blur, he saw the Destroyer dragging its body towards him, raising its arm to crush his head.

Then, a shadow loomed over them. A massive figure swooped down, grabbing the Destroyer's head with gleaming claws. The monster was wrenched aside, and the company apothecary, clad in white armor and bearing a jump pack, dragged it away, slamming it down before obliterating the Destroyer's head with a plasma blast.

Then, with a deafening crash, the Destroyer's corpse was thrown heavily to the ground.

Sablin immediately grabbed his spear, but the churning, polluted sky above the Administratum was torn apart by scorching lances from above. The enemy's flyers had returned, unleashing their devastating energy in a deafening roar, sending the Administratum fortress's remaining gun emplacements flying in all directions, tearing the artillery crews to shreds.

The dust raised by these explosions obscured the battlefield, followed by the aliens' low, resonant, and uniform footsteps, as if coalescing into a dirge.

"Sablin, we have to go!"

Despite the apothecary's repeated urgings, Sablin's gaze remained fixed on Bess.

His brother and comrade lay still, his helmet torn from his head, revealing a horrific wound. But the true fatal wounds came from his chest, almost completely severed, and his left arm and lower leg, severed by the Destroyer's phase glaive.

Gasping, Bess's empty, black eyes stared blankly at Sablin, half-formed words emerging from his bloodied lips.

"Bess."

Ignoring the servitor's warning signals, Sablin struggled to kneel down, wiping the blood from his comrade's cheek.

The apothecary then knelt beside him, the cutter on his arm beginning to whir.

"Bess, I must recover your gene-seed. The legion's bloodline will continue until we all return to the Night Haunter's shadow. We will meet you there."

Sablin felt a hand fall on his shoulder. It was Apothecary Fearnquill.

"Sablin, time is running out. I need to speed things up, or Bess's gene-seed may be lost."

These words offered little comfort, as they were spoken in a trembling voice that sounded like the whisper of death.

Sablin was silent for a moment. The sounds of battle in the distance had ceased, leaving only the groans of the wounded and the heavy echoes of the Necrons' movements.

Finally, he rasped:

"Bess is our good brother. The choice of whether he sacrifices himself should be his own."

The apothecary immediately understood Sablin's meaning, diplomatically saying:

"Sablin, I understand your feelings. Bess is my good brother too, but he deserves a better end."

Sablin sighed, his voice trembling.

"He does deserve it, we all do, but reality is often cruel. We must seek solace where we can. Know that the dead will not be forgotten for long, and the living will be respected. His deeds will be frozen in stasis, and that is enough."

Tears stung Sablin's eyes. He bent down one last time, holding Bess's hand tightly.

"Brother, are you willing to continue fighting alongside us, to continue bearing our cursed bloodline, to continue serving humanity and our benefactors as always? Until the Night Sons are truly ready to cross the final threshold and embrace the light that is ours?"

For a moment, he thought the breath of life had vanished from Bess's face, but his eyes flickered with life once more. Sablin felt Bess suddenly squeeze his hand tightly, and perhaps it was just his imagination, but Bess seemed to nod, as if agreeing to his fate.

"Thank you, we will continue to fight side by side in the future, Bess."

After Sablin finished speaking, he released his comrade's hand. The apothecary nodded in response.

"Very well, I will do everything I can to prolong Bess's life, but due to the lack of medication and specialized equipment, it will not be long, no more than 36 hours unless we can move Bess and place him in stasis, so that he can be implanted in a Dreadnought later."