Chapter 55: The Ship of Demons (Part I)

The process of entering this derelict city was not complex; Soshyan brought only six warriors along, including Armin and Tech-Sergeant Rico Rogris.

Generally speaking, conducting landing operations within the Warp is highly unwise, as it removes the protection of a Geller Field, leaving the landing craft vulnerable to the predations of Warp entities.

However, due to Soshyan's presence, none of this was an issue.

The moment the *Thunderhawk* departed from the *Spark*, Soshyan used the breathing technique taught by the Adeptus Mechanicus to capture the flow of the grey marrow, slowly squeezing that liquid metal toward his heart.

As grey veins crawled across his face, the howling and roaring surrounding the *Thunderhawk* rapidly receded, leaving behind only a few imperceptible curses.

The other six warriors seated within the *Thunderhawk* could not perceive any of this, nor could they see the changes occurring within Soshyan; they simply felt that it had suddenly become much quieter.

Along the way, the craft nimbly avoided various debris. It was only when faced with such a massive disparity in scale that Soshyan realized this derelict ship was indeed approaching the *Spark* at an extremely high speed.

Yet, her engines remained powered down.

Clearly, another force was at work.

After ten minutes of flight, the *Thunderhawk* entered the shattered flight deck of the derelict city and located a relatively intact landing platform.

"Maintain combat formation."

Soshyan was the first to step out of the hatch, the Holy Flame Sword already unsheathed and ready for combat.

Armin led his squad closely behind Soshyan. Because they were in a zero-gravity environment, they had all activated the magnetic locks on their boot soles, which somewhat hindered their speed of movement.

Once the team spread out in a fan formation, Soshyan glanced at the augur in his hand; that faint life signal still existed.

His intuition told him that the mystery lay within this signal that should not be there.

Following this, he led the squad through a destroyed passageway into a dark corridor.

As they entered the pitch-black passage, compressed metal creaked beneath the Space Marines' footsteps—perhaps due to the impact of surrounding debris, or perhaps because it had once been swept by storms. Regardless, the entire ship groaned as Soshyan and his men entered.

What struck Soshyan as strange was that this lifeless wreck was somehow able to maintain sufficient stability.

The tactical lights of the other warriors pierced the darkness from their bolters and helmets, coating the bulkheads in a layer of silver light.

Despite having drifted in the void for many years, the labyrinthine corridors and halls within the ship had somehow avoided the severe destruction one would expect; everything appeared to be as it once was.

Near a nearby hatch lay tools for external maintenance, and many Gothic warning signs, including pressurized suits suitable for mortals, hung in rows within storage lockers.

One of the lockers had been left open; as Soshyan's helmet light swept over it, black fabric reflected the light.

Everything was normal, yet... everything was different.

*Thud—!*

Suddenly, the sound of something striking the metal deck echoed from the distance through the corridor.

In an instant, seven beams of light converged on the end of the hallway, and the sound of heavy breathing echoed through the vox channels.

"Stay alert, but do not be overly tense. Avoid friendly fire."

Soshyan glanced into the boundless darkness before issuing the command.

"Move out. We are heading to the upper decks."

As they proceeded, the warriors' grips on their weapons relaxed, and their lights pointed aimlessly in various directions.

Strangely, they encountered nothing along the way. The only anomaly was that Soshyan spotted a very ominous symbol on a wall that resembled a chapel.

A burning tome.

Soshyan had not expected this to be a vessel of the Seventeenth Legion, the Word Bearers!

The Word Bearers were the earliest missionaries of the Imperium, and they were one of the nine legions that had betrayed the Emperor during the Horus Heresy. Having fallen to Chaos, these Chaos Space Marines had dedicated their entire loyalty to their Primarch, Lorgar, and the Chaos Gods.

Before their fall, the Word Bearers were renowned for their extreme religious fanaticism, and even after their corruption, they remained the most fanatical of Chaos Space Marines. Their most famous tactic involved Dark Apostles—corrupted versions of Space Marine Chaplains—inspiring their Space Marine and heretic allies amidst the heat of battle.

Undoubtedly, a vessel belonging to a traitor legion would be fraught with danger.

Thus, he maintained the utmost vigilance.

Finally, in a narrow anteroom near the bridge, they discovered the first traces of the crew.

A large number of servitors were connected to the massive doors leading to the bridge, which blocked the passage.

"They have been dead for a long time."

Armin stepped forward to inspect the withered body of a servitor, finding its eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, its body covered in a thin layer of frost.

"It looks like it's almost turned to stone."

The Space Marine felt through the remains, attempting to find the cause of death, but to no avail.

The other soldiers moved to push the doors open. Soshyan watched them—watched four Space Marines struggle against the massive doors with the superhuman strength of their power armor.

Strictly speaking, they had found nothing yet, but he had a bad feeling, as if he had been intentionally led here, being toyed with by something.

His hand tightened on the hilt of the Holy Flame Sword, and he subsequently heated the longsword until it glowed red, holding it like a torch in his hand.

"I suspect this ship was abandoned long ago; the crew was either abducted or killed."

Having found nothing, Armin stood up and spoke to Soshyan

"Sir, I have heard stories of ghost ships drifting in the Warp. Perhaps we should check the engine room."

"The crew? They are right here."

Soshyan pointed to the dead servitors.

Armin looked back and shrugged.

"It is impossible for a ship to run on servitors alone."

"Sir."

Rogris suddenly interrupted, pointing to a console beside the door.

"I just checked; it's still functional. I should be able to open the door."

"Then start immediately."

"It might take a little time," Rogris muttered, making way for the warriors who were struggling to push the door, and then began fiddling with the console.

"Rogris, what is taking so long?"

A few minutes later, Armin's impatient voice rang out.

"Did you not hear what I said before... you know nothing of the Machine Cult. Every code and standard protocol has subtle differences, and the command algorithms of the servers degrade over time. It might require... Input complete!"

Accompanied by a heavy thud, the locks disengaged, and the doors vibrated as the Space Marines pulled them open.

Immediately, Armin was the first to raise his weapon, his tactical light tearing through the darkness to sweep across rows of scattered metal plates, ceiling conduits, and massive mechanical apparatuses.

The moment the doors opened, even Soshyan held his breath.

But there was nothing inside.