Amon raced through the ship's labyrinthine corridors as if demons of the warp were chasing him. He cursed his power armor dozens of times for slowing him down and thanked the gods just as many times when heavy chunks of metal fell from the ceiling, bouncing off his helmet and shoulder plates.
The enhanced body of the Space Marine, though twisted by mutations, easily handled the strain. Despite the rapid pace, Amon breathed evenly, and the two hearts in his chest beat steadily and rhythmically.
The ordinary humans among the ship's crew couldn't boast such physiology, and their prospects now looked grim.
Still, despite everything, the slaves also tried to save themselves. They burst out of their cabins in droves and scattered like rats.
In the ensuing chaos, everyone acted for themselves. Servants abandoned the weak and slow. They didn't understand that their chances of survival were higher together, inevitably running into obstacles impassable for just a few people.
As Amon sped past, the slaves begged for his help, but the Space Marine had no intention of stopping. If anyone blocked his path, the sorcerer plowed into them at full speed, scattering them like pins.
Time and again, Amon leaped over jagged gaps leading into the void. He shoved aside piles of broken supports and metal where the ceiling had collapsed under the strain.
No obstacle could slow the Chaos Space Marine, and after a few minutes of frantic racing, the sorcerer reached the final stretch. Around the corner, at the end of the next corridor, was the lift that led to the lower decks.
Amon quickened his pace. In an instant, he crossed the last few dozen meters and came up against a crowd of terrified servants huddled at the closed lift door. Beast-like mutants and emaciated humans pounded on it with their fists in vain. Many were crying or praying, unwilling to part with their wretched lives.
"Out of the way, vermin!" Amon roared.
Seeing their master, the rear rows tried to make way, but instead of pressing against the walls, they surged forward. A crush ensued. A mutant screamed and then went silent as he fell. The front rows, pressed against the door, gasped, struggling to push back against the advancing crowd. The mass of people swirled and groaned but did not disperse.
Rage overtook the Chaos Space Marine. Enraged, the sorcerer lashed out with his armored fists. One blow sent two people flying, and a backhanded swing crushed the skull of a third. Bones cracked under his boots, and blood oozed from crushed bodies. Panicked slaves dropped to their knees, raising their hands in pleas for mercy, but Amon spared no one. Like an iron battering ram, he pushed through the crowd, leaving only mangled corpses in his wake.
Finally, the sorcerer lowered his hands and looked around. The entire corridor, up to the bend, was littered with the crew's bodies. Amon took a deep breath. His rage was slowly subsiding, giving way to irritation.
"Filthy animals! I wasted time because of them. Why were they stuck here?!"
The sorcerer turned toward the door. He approached the control console and pressed the call rune. A deafening crack rang out. Sparks of electricity hissed and fell to the floor. The console's screen flickered and went dark.
"Another delay," Amon muttered angrily. "I'll have to descend through the shaft."
He straightened his hand, slammed it between the doors, and forced his fingers into the wide gap. The sorcerer strained. The servos in his armor whined angrily, but the cursed door didn't budge an inch.
For a while, Amon struggled with the doors, then cursed and stepped back. It seemed the broken console had locked the lift doors shut, and even Amon's superhuman strength wasn't enough to overcome it.
The sorcerer took another deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. There was another way to deal with the malfunction, though it wasn't pleasant.
***
Amon closed his eyes and focused on his body. He distantly observed the rhythmic beating of his hearts, how his chest expanded on the inhale and collapsed on the exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
At first, nothing happened, but soon Amon felt a magical warmth spreading through his body. It began in his abdomen and rose higher and higher until it reached his heavy head. The sorcerer's muscles relaxed, and now he stood, held up only by his powered armor.
Thoughts, emotions, and images left Amon's mind, leaving behind a silent void. The cosmic battle, the captain's betrayal, and the desperate flight were far behind. The endless wail of the emergency siren faded to the edge of his consciousness. Now it sounded distant, muffled, like through water.
The real world retreated, releasing the Chaos Space Marine from its tight grip. Soon, it was replaced by a calming darkness. Amon felt himself carried along by the slow current of the void. He wanted to forget everything, to enjoy the silence and peace, but he forced himself to resist.
"Helios, Warp Smith," the Space Marine called out. "By the pact that binds us, I summon you!"
The darkness gave no reply.
For what felt like an eternity, the sorcerer repeated the summoning incantation until he heard a faint whisper in the silence.
"Amon... Amon... Amon..." echoed from the darkness.
"I'm here, Helios," the sorcerer responded, reaching toward the sound, sensing the voice growing louder. The darkness around him stirred. Now it shimmered with impossible shades of black, twisting and stretching like a snake. It was no longer empty.
Through the stretched fabric of reality, a tall, thin silhouette appeared, as if pressed against the darkness from the other side. The creature had dozens of thin arms growing from a hump on its back. Some of the limbs ended in mechanical claws, while others in grotesque tendrils and flexible tentacles.
The creature's head barely resembled that of a human, except for its round, completely bald skull. Its eyes were replaced by eight augmentic lenses. Where a mouth should have been, there was a grille, framed by hoses and wires, and thick tubes jutted out from its cheeks.
The creature stood hunched over, leaning forward. Even in this position, it was as tall as Amon, but if it stood straight, it would undoubtedly tower several heads above the Space Marine.
"Mechanicus," the sorcerer greeted it.
"I haven't heard from you in a long time, Amon," the creature replied emotionlessly. "And I had hoped never to hear from you again. Have you missed me?"
"No. But I'm still glad to see you, Helios," Amon said, ignoring the hostility in its voice. "Though I summoned you not for a social chat."
"I understand," the creature rasped, its artificial laughter like claws scraping metal. "So, why?"
"I need your help. A brief fusion."
"You ask for much, sorcerer," Helios shook its head disapprovingly. "I will not touch your tainted mind. The secrets of the Omnissiah belong to the Mechanicus, and I have no right to reveal them. Especially to someone like you."
"I don't need secrets, just a little help," Amon reassured. "I've got a small issue with a machine spirit."
"No," Helios cut him off. The silhouette began to blur, losing focus as if the creature were moving away from the stretched fabric.
"Not so fast, Mechanicus," Amon commanded with authority. "You owe me, remember? I bound eighty-eight demons into your machines by force, and you swore by Chaos to answer my call for help, no matter where you were. If you refuse, the pact will be broken. The demons will break free from their brass prisons. And woe unto you, for demons do not forgive, and it was you who forged the chains!"
The creature froze. The sorcerer knew Helios was analyzing the likely consequences of refusal, mathematically determining the correct decision. Finally, Helios finished its calculations and folded its thin arms across its chest.
"I will fulfill my oath, sorcerer," the creature said. "And I will never deal with you again. These dealings have cost me too much."
"So be it," Amon concluded. "Shall we begin?"
"Let's begin."
The sorcerer's ethereal body approached the Mechanicus and embraced it tightly. Helios's bony limbs wrapped around Amon's shoulders.
"I, Amon, Herald of Change, unite my mind with Helios, Warp Smith!" Amon said loudly and clearly.
"I, Helios, Warp Smith, give my consent," the creature hissed in response.
"In the name of Undivided Chaos!" both the Space Marine and the Mechanicus shouted in unison.
The darkness flared with crimson fire. The warmth in the sorcerer's chest was replaced by fierce heat. Amon screamed in pain, his body shaking as the fire melted his mind like molten metal.
The heavy hammer of foreign knowledge struck his consciousness, scattering searing sparks. Amon wanted to escape, to run, but the blazing void held him in an iron grip. It struck him blow after blow; the sorcerer writhed and twisted, futilely trying to shake off the burning flame.
The pain grew stronger and stronger, but just as the agony reached its crescendo, a cold wave of energy washed over the Space Marine.
In the clouds of unreality, Amon's consciousness took on a new form and substance. His old concepts vanished, replaced by machine logic and technical notions. The sorcerer's thoughts transformed. Words were replaced by binary code commands, and his own body appeared to him as a finely tuned mechanism.
The next moment, the void released Amon. He was back on the ship. The sorcerer collapsed to his knees. The world around him spun wildly, a mad spiral. Amon vomited right into his helmet. He barely managed to get to his feet, staggering like a drunk as he made his way to the console.
But while his body rebelled, Amon's mind was clearer and sharper than ever before. He placed his hand on the device, and in an instant, he understood the cause of the malfunction.
"Contact failure. General system error, read failure from cell A9823," Amon muttered in a low voice, using terms whose meaning had become obvious to him.
"Repair procedure number 617. Switch to internal power, reboot the system."
With a small effort of will, Amon sent a pulse toward the console. The wire fibers fused, the crystalline circuit restored, and power began to flow through the iron pathways. The tiny mind of the machine spirit awoke from its slumber and, with a hum, diligently got to work. The console came to life, and a summoning rune appeared on its screen.
Amon sat on the floor and leaned against the wall, catching his breath. As always after a fusion, his usual perception didn't return immediately. A dissonance filled his thoughts, as if there were two minds in his head. One was filled with emotions and passions, while the other was full of algorithms and protocols.
Amon struggled to maintain balance, knowing that too rapid a transition could drive him insane. When an alien thought appeared in his mind, he smoothly redirected his focus to a similar but familiar topic. If schematics and the inner workings of an assault craft surfaced before his eyes, the sorcerer switched to memories of assault operations where he had deployed from such a craft. For a power field generator, he countered with an image of a power sword, and for binary code—with the visual appearance of rune streams on a screen.
After a few minutes, he felt better. The sorcerer's personality pushed out the cold dogmas of the Omnissiah, while his superhuman body recovered its physical strength.
Amon removed his helmet and wiped it from the inside, not out of disgust, which he had almost entirely lost through rituals and encounters with demons, but to restore visibility, and then placed it back on his head. The clasps clicked into place.
The sorcerer rose to his feet and stepped toward the elevator doors, which opened before him, releasing thin streams of steam.