The final doors

After Haarlock's speech is done, we spend some time discussing what we have experienced so far in the various portal worlds we have been through and the possible significance of these events. A lot of back and forth, very interesting indeed! We learn that there has been an uprising on Scintilla versus Haarlock, though it is not one of the missing planets - we are unable to discern why they are gone. Our current theory is that the different portal worlds (which is the syntax I have decided to use) represent not a linear/chronological alternative future, but rather a multitude of divergent alternative futures. As such, world #8, where the slaughts successfully invaded Scintilla (and by extent, probably the entire sector), was one possible future. World #9, the one we currently find ourselves in, is another, where Haarlock is victorious. It is worth noting that Acadia, in her recording on world #8, seemed to indicate that Haarlock successfully pulled off his master plan, or at the very least survived. If such is the case also in other future portal worlds, I find that quite the grim foreboding for our sector's future.

As the discussion continues, Dar's attention is drawn to a news reel nearby. Not because the news itself is all too interesting (a report on war from Barasbine, a local hive world, with the report showing a band of refugees leaving the planet), but because of a familiar face in the crowd - the Beloved. What's more, he actually winks at us...

...and just like that, another portal appears. Ill at ease, I recite a quick prayer to the God-Emperor for guidance in weaving our way through these riddles within riddles and pass through. 

Portal world #9 

We find ourselves in a broad city street at night. After getting our bearings we recognize where we are: the lovely Sinophia Magna. Remarkably, the city seems to be in an even more advanced state of decay compared to when we last visited. I take a moment to reflect upon the genius of Imperial engineers, for surely true genius is needed to ensure this many structures still standing despite the lack of maintenance and constant exposure to the harsh environment.

Not quite knowing what to do, we head in the direction of the Folly, as that is really the only landmark we recognize. If this world resembles the others we have been through, something will probably happen. Never the most trusting lot, the citizens of Sinophia have apparently become even more paranoid than before. We see no one out in the streets and many doors are bolted shut. As we pass another one of these, voices are heard inside. I suggest it might be time to gather some information, and Lazarus breaks the door open. Inside, what appears to be a family cowers in fear, screaming out in terror as we enter their abode. Disturbingly, they renounce the Emperor over and over, but beyond that we are unable to make heads or tails out of their mad rants.

We walk on. The same stars are missing as in portal world #8. We notice what seems to be dark shadows following us on the roof tops. Reminiscent of a certain dear and near cult, they vanish when we look in their direction. And sure enough, we notice religious symbols that have been desecrated and several signs and markings of our beloved Pilgrims of Hayte.

Nearing a crossroads, we hear what turns out to be the drunken ravings of what appears to be a preacher. Given our earlier experiences, we are rather surprised to discover his outbursts and chants to be praise of the God-Emperor (hail be to him!) and disavowment of the ones who curse his name.  As it turns out, he's a former imperial guardsman called Quenas Styles, who arrived on Sinophia on a refugee ship from Barastine...no points given for guessing who else was on the ship. Apparently, the Quorom, not exactly the most devout to begin with, entered a bargain with the dark gods on the urging of the Beloved. The results are clearly on display in the city. Mr Styles shows clear evidence of being tortured and his wits aren't all there.

Evidently, Haarlock is in power in this version of our future as well. He has, however, refused to come to the aid of Sinophia. The reason is simple: the populace allowed his tower to be razed. Could there be a more clear and simple definition of evil? Simply, the complete and utter lack of compassion due to a small personal slight?

Mr Styles urges us to go to the Saint's Bridge "if your faith is strong to see what becomes of those who believe". Seeing no other course, we leave the poor, brave drunkard to his misery and head towards said bridge.

When we arrive, the statues of the saints have been defiled in the most horrendous of ways. A grisly display of grinning corpses greet us, strung out along the bridge. Despite all we have been through, and despite knowing this is but a possible future, the sight makes my soul revolt and cower, wanting nothing but to be away from this foul place. A hand written sign indicates why these poor souls have been put on display - "bow before your new masters or die". It is hard to tell which future is the worst...

We spot a familiar figure up ahead. It is Constantine, the arbitrator we put in charge of the planet's security when we left. He's grown older - and it is clear he has lost his way. He spits vitrol and poison at us, accusing us of being Haarlock's pups. Suddenly, his mouth grows into a gigantic maw and a black shroud surrounds him, and we finally see what the shadows that have stalked us are made of as they swarm from the bridge towards us.

I recognize them as twilight stalkers, a xeno species who has been mixed with humans and insects to create a truly heretikal breed. They ensnare their victims via webbings and use poisons to weaken them. Luckily, the fight isn't the hardest we've faced, and as soon as the stalkers are down, the shroud around Constantine falls away. Acadia turns her bolter towards him, a grim look on her face. The weapon roars into life as it spins up, shells slamming into the former arbitrator's twisted body and ripping pieces of flesh from it. His body slumps to the ground - and a new portal opens behind it. Sparing not a single more glance at this nightmarish world, we enter.

Portal world #10

We find ourselves in a tattered and primitive hut, this time with no physical body. Leathers make due as a roof. A woman is in the midst of labor, a midwive urging her on. Both wear tribal symbols of sorts, which I do not recognize. It is clear we are on a primitive world. The birth reaches its end, and a baby boy emerges into the world.

Suddenly, the scene blurs before us. We see two adults and what appears to be a shaman, with what we recognize to be the boy from the birth scene playing besides them, but now he's around 3 years old. The shaman has a grim look on his face, while the parents try to argue their case. Suddenly, the boy's toys start floating into the air, much to the chagrin of the parents. The shaman turns towards the parents, saying something in a guttural voice. The parents acquiesce, tears streaming down the mother's face. The primitive grabs the boy and drags him towards the forest nearby. We somehow follow. The boy protests, but is of course no physical match for the adult. In a clearing, the shaman hefts an ax, his intention clear. Suddenly, the boy's eyes light up as he stares right into the face of his captor. The man looks disturbed, making warding signs as he stares into the air - and then his voice rises into high pitched agony, as his flesh ignites and sloughs off him.

Another time lapse. The boy is now 8-9 years old, and makes a living on the streets of what I realize is Port Suffering on Iocanthos. A pitiful sight, he stretches out his cup towards bypassers, begging for change. A man swathed in black robes stops before him, pitches a coin into the cup as he pulls back his hood - Erasmus Haarlock stands before us. He reaches out his hand towards the boy, who studies it with a solemn look on his face before accepting it.

Later. The boy is now 15 years. We are in a chamber. He is being tortured by men in robes with the insignia of the golden spider. This is not the first day he finds himself in this chamber, nor will it be the last. The boy screams out, more out of habit than anything else. I catch a glimpse of his eyes as he stares sightless before him. It is like looking into the Warp. Chaos. Lunacy. I shudder.

Later yet again. The boy is 18. He is somewhere underground, in a cave, crouched over a book, laughing in a soft voice to himself. He pulls himself up, a paradoxical mixture of the grace of an acrobat and the awkwardness of the handicapped. He lopes along the tunnel, the gait eerily familiar to us. Of course, we knew already. The boy is the Beloved. The Beloved is the boy.

He gathers outcasts around him, cajoling them, threatening, commanding. They become a band of the truly misfit, and we already know who they are. The Pilgrims. The mad prophet reads. I recognize every last text. Haarlock. His legacy. His enemies. The Widower. Mara. Everything. The last thing we see is our arch enemy boarding a ship heading towards Quaddis.

Portal world #11

Once again in our physical bodies, we are thrown onto a blasted hill top. The air is hot and humid, a haze covering the landscape. All around us, we see nothing but endless jungle. We no longer care to check the portals as we go through, but this time, something is different. The portal is still open, and we can see the Tesseract through it. More chillingly, the iron daughter is weeping within.

There's also another difference - we can feel hunger. Near mad with hunger, we devour the rations we luckily still carry. After sating our immediate needs, we notice the portal hisses and crackles. It is set in a stone arch of sorts. Curious, we try tossing a coin into the portal. It disappears. Dar catches a lizard nearby, tossing it through. It turns into fine red mist. Right.

Looking up at the sky, we see a dark and unsettled shadow ringing the sun. It does not appear to be a natural phenomena. Pondering our next move, Potter notices a band of what appears to be natives approaching us from the forest, clad in crude gear typical of primitive tribesmen. Putting everything together, I recognize where we are. Dusk. Perhaps the deadliest planet in the sector, where pretty much everything is out to kill you. Lovely, just lovely.

The natives do not seem aggressive. We let them approach. Their leader speaks Low Gothic in a stilted manner. He informs us that the old lady has sent them to fetch us. It is time. We must come or wait idly here while events unfold. With a shock, I recall the legend of the Old Hag of Dusk, said to be powerful enough to make a squad of alpha psykers into her playthings. She is also known for her vast knowledge. I inform the cadre of this, and we agree to be taken to the Hag.

We walk into the jungle, prepared for a tiresome march. But suddenly, time space folds and we appear near an ancient space craft. A woman who looks older than the sector itself sits nearby. Impenetrable shadows loom near her, clearly not natural. She beckons us closer.

She holds a chain in her hand, leading into the shadows. A tail briefly appears, and with a shudder I realize she has chained the daemon prince we released back into the Warp on Sinophia. If we ever had plans to assault the Hag directly, she has certainly proven that despite our skills, we would be no match for her.

She tells us that Erasmus came to her, long ago, frustrated beyond belief, and asked for her help. He had tried to turn back time in countless different ways, but always, the universe seemed to throw some foil into his way. He had to give her something (the crone cackles and points towards a gas canister near her stool), and in return, he was able to enter the Dark Star, from whence he will soon return.

I ask her how we can stop him. The hag stares directly at me, and I feel the weight of eons pressing down on me. "I can tell you", she says. "But you must give me something. You must give me your knowledge. All of it. It will never return". I stand slack-jawed, my mind a blank. She turns towards Potter. "I only need something from one of you", she crows. "Will you give up your power? Or perhaps you Acadia, will give up your physical prowess, becoming as weak as a newborn babe?"

None of us respond. My mind is racing. The fate of the sector and indeed the universe hangs in the balance. Will I not sacrifice myself (for sacrificing my knowledge is equal to this)? I am ashamed to admit it, but I cannot. Or perhaps I would have been able to, given time...but Lazarus steps forward. The Hag chuckles. "Ah, the steadfast arbitrator, leading the way as always...will you give me your insight? Will you stand being unable to solve even the simplest of riddles, seeing nothing and yet knowing what you have lost?"

Lazarus stares at the old woman, steel in his eyes. He nods. "Get on with it" he says. The Hag laughs cruelly, beckons him forwards, stares into his eyes. Lazarus falls to the ground, a shrill cry emitting from him, as we all realize he has lost part of himself. Will he still be able to lead us? It likely does not matter, as our time in this world grows short.

In what I intend to be a harsh voice but which comes out as a croak I ask the crone how to stop Haarlock. She smiles and responds "It is simple. You must simply go to the Portal before it is time and stop his return. Another will enter. To stop him is to stop Haarlock. It is but the simplest of riddles, though I fear Lazarus here would not solve it any longer."

The Hag laughs again, mockingly. "Ah, all of the Empire of man...and you are the best? Tell me, will you not need more to end this? I can offer you more. I just need a little something in return. But a bauble. A trinket." Acadia looks at the sorceress in disgust. "Just get us back to the portal old woman. I cannot abide being in your presence a minute longer."

For a moment, I fear our temperamental soldier has gone to far. The witch's laughter stops abruptly, and she eyes Acadia for what seems like an eternity. She stares back, flinching not at all. "Very well", the Hag says. "It seems there is hope for the Empire" she stops and spits at the word "still."

And suddenly, we find ourselves back on the hill top where we entered through the portal. Acadia gasps, sweat bursting from her forehead. "I swear, one more second and I would have bawled like a baby...that is one seriously scary old lady". The dark shadow around the sun has grown darker still. We know who is coming. Haarlock. The old monster returns, to enslave us all and bring doom to the Light.

And suddenly, out through the portal, our Beloved appears. In tow is another one of the gigantic daemons we faced on Mara, as well as a former mercenary clearly turned demonhost. He laughs. "Are you here to greet Father as well? To usher in the new era? To stop him cold in his tracks? To penetrate the mysteries of the Beyond? Options, options, so many options..."

"But of course, you have not the insight to do anything but to blindly follow your Beloved (he cackles) God-Emperor, do you? You realize you worship a corpse, sitting on a dead world on a throne of decay? Ah yes, the folly of man is indeed plentiful."

Lazarus glares at him, the disgust plain on his face, the resolve still there. "Let us decide the fate of the world right here then fiend. No more talk."

And the world turns mad.

Walking in the Wake of Erasmus Haarlock

Moving forward we enter a gallery with high ceilings. Massive turbines are bathed in blue ghostly light. As usual in this place lights and shadow leap and play tricks on our minds, space seems to distort. We stand hesitant for a second, we know time is crucial but instincts tell us to back off. Holder-Smith suggest we try to run across the room – sounds like a plan. We make a run for it.

The noise – it assaults your body, penetrates your skull, your skin, your bones. Where did the exit go? There are just reflections, endless reflections. Mirrors within mirrors. Focus, dammit!

Having crossed the room I notice that Potter, Laz, Holder-Smith and Kort are not out yet. We throw in a rope on directions from our masked companion. Finally Laz and Potter exit the room accompanied by Holder-Smith. Apparently the mask got him through unscathed. The rest of us are a bit worse for wear. Kort, they say, withered away into an old man in the course of seconds before turning to dust. Yikes!

There is a narrow path before us, made of solid stone. It ends abruptly before an abyss. Holder-Smith says the Widower is telling us to “Take a leap of faith” and that he cannot go. Guess this is it. One step closer to insanity. We leap.

Oddly I have no sensation of falling, no sensation of space or time. Then something comes into sight again.

A new room. Green, high vaulted again. This time with large windows in the ceiling and to all sides. We see stars. It’s beautiful. Holder-Smith says the stars are not known…. Where could we be? The room is a machine complex, lots of mechanical stuff. Gears and lenses. Quite cool. The machinery resembles the other Haarlock-stuff, like the clock. It’s faded out somehow. There is a funny smell too, like…uhm..ozone. In front of the machine there’s a statue, a torso of a veiled woman in solid iron. It’s very lifelike. She holds a chalice in one hand while the other is extended into an open palm, as if asking for something. The room has 13 – duh – corners, and each one has a monitor. They flicker in and out, images, nothing special.

So this machine-thingy is the tesseract – guess there is just one thing to do: Give the iron lady the keystone.

One of the corners light up, then another. The machine hums. The Widower told us we had to pass through all doors, so we get started.

I can see and hear, but nothing more. We are aboard a juggernaut. Angevin, Drusus and Solomon are there. They are looking at a star map. This must be the start of the Angevin Crusade. There is a huge fleet of ships. They are discussing tactics. Solomon is explaining some plan or other. This could be the start of Solomon – as in the planet. Angevin gives Solomon the Haarlock warrant. A white door appears.

We are on an island, in a mansion. It’s gorgeous. Azure waters and green isles. Solomon is there. We are still not our whole selves. Solomon is joined by two scholars – they are looking at plans for the crematorium. We realize this is what it used to look like at the House of Ash and Dust. A white door appears.

Now we are in a wide corridor, adorned by bones and velvet drapes. We see a fleet of vessels, know and unknown. One stands out – it’s a Haarlock ship. Out of nowhere it blasts one of the other ships and a fight is on. This must be Erasmus’ ship we are on. A stern-looking and beautiful woman approaches, a young girl in hand. Behind them the air ripples and a female assassin appears. She efficiently disposes of the Lady, this must be what porn is like for Dar. The girl runs towards us, terrified, then the assassin catches up with her. Time skips ahead to people rushing toward the two bodies, yelling “Lady Haarlock!”. Then Erasmus appears making way through the crowd. His desperation, anger and sorrow are all apparent has he screams “ I deny this!”. A white door appears.

We seem physically ourselves, but we don’t look it. I look like a common guard from back in the days. We seem to be a troop of some sort, and we’re in a mansion. There’s another man there as well, I think he is our leader, and he’s wearing the Haarlock emblem. There is gunfire in the hall. The man tells us to go to Lady Haarlock and that Laz is in command. The whole building shakes. More shooting. A calendar on a wall puts us around the time of the Cleansing. We find mother and young child. They are playing. As we gaze out through the window we see masses of units approaching. We also see Erasmus Haarlock, seemingly the real one, watching us. We need to get out, we bring mother and child into the garage and down into the sewers. Walking through the filth we encounter three guards, and eliminate them. We navigate towards the outskirts of town. As we go up into the street we see masses of people in the streets, and corn fields extending towards the horizon outside the town. We find an exit in an alley to avoid detection. There are ornithropters looking for us. We move tactically into the field and towards a farm. It’s a two hour trek. At the farm there is a white door.

We are in solid form, and we look like ourselves. Through a small hole in a wall we can see busy construction around what must be the early phases of the steel clock. We are back in a wall inside Haarlock’s mansion on Quaddis. Instincts tell us that we need to manipulate this clock, and we somehow seem to know which cogwheel to shift. We find a couple of uniforms in the basement. Holder-Smith puts one on and readies to go outside. I also put one for back up. Holder-Smith approaches the clock in an inconspicuous way. There is one figure that notices him though, a robed man. Holder-Smith manipulates the cogwheel and the robed figure comes to him and whispers something in his ear. “The key has been turned “ he later tells us. A white door appears smack in the middle between the wall and the clock. It flickers as if threatening to disappear again, and we all know the machine spirits can be fickle. Holder-Smith launches a grenade for some distractions and we make a run towards the door, with a crowd of shocked on-lookers.

Erasmus appears much older now. We are just eyes. Erasmus wanders in the border between the Warp and the Universe. He seethes power. He looks at me and smiles.

The air is warm. There is an odor of melted plastic and burned fat. Hive city mines. A soft snow of cinder ash falls from the sky. A huge cyclopean shape emerges. A vessel, a crimson disc of about one kilometre diameter, with a crimson glow in the center. It’s xeno and it even has friends. These are Slought ships.

We are in our true form now. We climb a small hill to get a better view of the area. There are craters left by bombs scattered across the terrain, one of them seem to be filled with bodies. On the way to check it out I can’t help but feel that Haarlock is close by, though not is sight. After about half an hour we’re at the crater with the bodies. They are of varying stages of decomposition, and they are all missing their heads, just like we saw on Mara. The Slought vessels are harvesters, harvesters of heads. There is a harvester on the move not too far away, it seems to be chasing a human, a guard maybe. We decide to take it on, might be we get something out of the guard though I doubt his or hers mental faculties are still in order. The heavy bolter thrives on such an expansive target. Hit after hit exploding beautifully in vital parts. Aaah. The rest hit it with what we got and it goes down easily enough. The sprinters start out to catch up with the guard. He is able to tell us that we are on Scintilla and that it's about 17 to 20 years later than our current date. There is civil war. “Damn the Inquisition!” He says. First there were battleships from the Inquisition and after that the Sloughts came. When he has nothing more useful to say we put him out of his misery. Three harvesters are approaching us, the gunfire probably attracted them. We hide and they go past us. Suddenly we take in a distress call on Inquisition codex. We head towards its destination. Two harvesters see us and engage. The heavy bolter again shines in my capable hands, and down the first one goes. Potter handily takes out the other with a fling spell. The distress call comes from a Rhino bearing the Imperial Aquila. A body lies halfway outside the vehicle. To my surprise I see myself sitting inside. I am about 20 years older, and on my chest is the inquisitorial rosette. I seem to have shot myself. In my hand is a cylinder with the mark of Haarlock on it, but also covered with wards. There’s a data slate as well and opening it, we find a voice recording:

“I leave this recording, my last testament to whomever may find it amongst my peers in the Holy Ordos… the guilt was ours, the sins were ours… hubris… came to dust… We grew arrogant, grew, complacent, after we stopped Haarlock on Mara, after the… Hayte purged at last… Gallowglass we believed ourselves invulnerable… civil war… Tyrantine Caba… within… Haarlock, it all came back to the legacy, we were so blind… never realised just what he…dead now, all dead… city burning… I …from the deep vault.. but it’s too late… my legs are shattered I cannot get out… all that remains is to pass judgement on myself… cannot let the worms have my mind…”

We see no other option but to open the cylinder. As we do a red crystalline dust flows out. A white door emerges. Holder-Smith takes the cylinder with him.

We’re on a huge hive, Holder-Smith has no cylinder in his hand. There seems to be some sort of celebration. The Calexis sector has a new planetary governor. Shivers go down my spine…. Haxx has been replaced by Erasmus Haarlock, and he is just about to speak to the public. They have gathered in front of big screens and a stage to witness the event. Holder-Smith notices that we are on Malfi, and also that some planets seem to be missing. There are commissars on the stage holding guard. We have jumped 23 years ahead from current time. There is a sense of fear in the air. Talking to some of the residents we learn that "the Savior" repelled the Slought invasion. The Inquisition had conspired with the Slought xenos, but Erasmus managed to sail in on the Spear of Destiny and knock the Inquisition out. The God Emperor is gone. There is an underground resistance movement, met with hard measures by Haarlock. The whole clergy have also been exterminated. They say that the light still shines on Holy Terra, so all hope is not lost. There is a new order – obey or pay the prize.

Into the fire

Mara certainly gets to you. It is the most unnerving, outright murderous and most hostile place I have ever been. I fell assailed every minute I spend here, even asleep. But this is not the way Mara gets you; the weird part is the effect the utter certainty of death and defeat has. As I fight tooth and nail, every minute, I am detached. I watch my own furious determination. I am, in the middle of the most important and most difficult task I have ever undertaken, looking at myself from the outside.

I assume it is a way of coping. I have always known that I eventually would give my life in service to the emperor, but now I know almost exactly when it will happen. We might stop Haarlocks return, but I do believe that we will die fairly shortly, on Mara. Even if we by some utterly implausible event leave here somewhat alive, I think there will be nothing of the old Lazerus that leaves.

Enough metaphysics for a while. What have we been doing lately? Wandering around, endlessly, and fighting, endlessly. I prefer the fighting. The tunnels change, we search for something, milling around like mice, and time just passes. And nothing gets to you like nothing happening in these tunnels. When we fight at least we do something.

We go back to the surface, to sleep. We camp in a large reactor-room. After a few hours we are assaulted by some ugly beings, who look like they have been dead for ages. We kill them fairly easy, they close in quickly and we shred them. When we ride the elevator down again, Kort says he recognizes the surroundings, and thinks that he can find the way to where Beloved and the Pilgrims have camped.

We walk along, for once with some direction. We start finding 'traces' of the Pilgrims: symbols, blood, human remains, altars, chaos symbols, in staggering amounts. Full human skins, tattooed all over, stretched out in frames. They have obviously been warding something off, probably Mara herself.

We find a huge hall, some 200 meters high, platforms suspended out in front of us. Several reactor cores. We see a few pilgrims. Alpha sneaks into the hall and sees a few pilgrims. One salvo from her bolter and they die. The last one falls long before the echo from the rockets stops reverberating around the hall.

There are more pilgrims, and a demon, but with a combination of tactical withdrawals, Potters healing skills and fire support from Alpha no one dies. We proceed inwards, and discover Beloved staring at us from one of the reactor towers. An enormous flying beast appears. It breaks the platform we are standing on, and one of the Janissaries falls to his death. It is capable of attacking us all in one go as well, so we have to retreat unto different gangways. The monster looks like some kind of serpent, it is horrifying, you feel like you want to soil yourself watching it, and it attacks with bite and tail. Dar collapses from fear, and I drag him away. And we shoot and shoot and shoot. Reload. Repeat. And we kill it. We kill this monster too.

Beloved moves onto a nearby platform, and gates in 4 demons. We all shoot at him, but he seems to be very difficult to harm. We also remember what went on at Xinophia, so we assume he has multiple lives with him. Potter flies onto the tower, finds Beloveds lair, chock full of horrible symbols, and the mask of the Widower. He takes the mask and jumps, Beloved runs after, and jumps after him.

Potter just manages to get of a flying spell, while Beloved crashes to the ground. We heal up, and Potter flies down again, just in time to see Beloved about to, probably, gate in another huge flying serpent.

We all leave, and find a place to take a break. We try to read the book, but noone understands it until Holder-Smith puts the mask on. Then he can read the book, and it really gives directions; we now move with purpose. What gives the creeps is seeing Holder-Smith with the mask on. Radical does not even start to describe this... We could have gone to look for another guide, but I guess this is the only way that is feasible right now. Mara, it gets to you, in every way, not the least those you did not think of... The Janissaries look like they are about to flip seeing the mask on Holder-Smith, but they contain themselves. They have very rigid minds, that is one reason they are useful here.

Holder-Smith manages to get some proper information out of the widower, in between the masks mad ranting. He says that we are doing exactly what Haarlock set in motion ages ago: we are looking for the Blind Tesseract, aiming to change either the future or the past. I hope the chance to foil him will arise.

The Widower tells us that the Tesseract contains doors to different times and different places, we will have to deal with all of them in order.

We get to another large hall, with a reactor. Ice on the floor, with a bluish glow. As we go into the hall, beings start to rise from the ice. Many beings. The Janissaries propose to distract them while the rest of us escape. After brief consideration I accept their offer, thank them for their service, and we head out, barring the door behind us. We hear them on vox for a short while, then there is silence. I note that the only qualms I have are of the tactical kind: does this improve or reduce our chances of accomplishing our mission. But we will make it count.

We find a large mining elevator, which we ride down another 200m, into the 'Deep Mines'. The tunnels are rough hewn, and we see demonic faces moving inside the rock. What the living fuck is actually Mara? How did it get to be like this? The worst part is that we might find out.

We get to a room with some weird machinery, with the remnants of a fight. 18 of Korts co-mercs, and Inquisitor Herrod and his retinue. And the chartist captain leading the mercenaries. We scrounge some choice gear. I find myself utterly indifferent to finding Herrod. I don't care that I think they would have attacked us if given the chance, or mourn a fellow member of the inquisition, I just don't care.

The Widower says that what has been here is a Slaught Destroyer. Much worse than the overlord Master Nonsuch we met in the House of Ash and Dust. He also says that Miss Book now has the navigator and so has all she needs, and that the reason the Slaught are here is probably because they have infiltrated the sector so well that they don't want time turned backward.

Holder-Smith investigates the machinery. He suddenly sees a face on a screen; Kalium Samriel. He shouts warnings at us. Then we see a black body-gloved hand over his mouth, and a pair of white eyes staring out at us: Erasmus Haarlock himself.

And then we proceed, further and further into the fire.

The horrors of Mara

Testing theories
Before proceeding into the compound proper, I propose that we test exactly how dangerous using psychic powers on Mara is. I have a theory that the number of psychneuein summoned and chance thereof is linked to the level of power used as well as a certain randomness factor. It's a risky proposition, given that we do not know the upper limit on beasts we risk facing - but I feel that without mr Potter's considerable resources, we are likely to be dead anyway. We also need to heal the Jannisaries that were injured in the fall. And of course, I have my own reasons as well... *cue ominous foreshadowing*

Mr Potter fires of three psychic powers of various strength. Nothing happens! Huzzah, my theory is proven! Or rather not disproved at least. And we know that we won't automatically be swarmed by the fearsome xenos.

A revelation
I ask the cadre to step away from the soldiers for a rather private conversation. Delving ever deeper into esoteric knowledge over the years, I've gradually felt something unlock in my mind. When Haarlock's ship appeared, that seemed to open that gate fully - I suddenly felt power and the warp rushing into me. It's hard to tell whether or situation or my new link to the warp caused it, but I had a hard enough time staying on my feet. I managed to conceal it at the time, given our chaotic surroundings, but I felt that I had to reveal this to the cadre now, for several reasons.

First, I might need to use my new powers for us to survive, meager as they are. Second, it would possibly be revealed in some way on Mara either way. Third, no one in the cadre seem to be particularly zealous/orthodox...which I figured would reduce the odds of one of them cutting my head off/putting a bolter magazine through me/fling a giant statue at me/insert other gruesome deaths here. And of course, finally, having an unsanctioned psyker in the cadre is a risk in and of itself - they deserve to know. I am both afraid and excited by discovering this untapped well of power. For now, I will focus on the task at hand and deal with the fallout later.

I'm not sure if I would call the cadre my friends. They are both less and more than that. We are comrades. We are fellow soldiers in an unending war against Chaos. We are the last defense against that ancient evil Haarlock tearing our galaxy to pieces. And yet, we would probably go our separate ways if we ever were disbanded as a cadre...but I have come to hold everyone dearly. Even Dar and Alpha, with whom I share about nothing in common. Reading about the comradery developed between soldiers in wartime is one thing, experiencing it first-hand is quite another. The God-Emperor, in his infinite wisdom, surely saw this bond as humanity's greatest strength and hope in standing against the tides of Chaos ever tearing at our throats.

But I digress. A lot. As usual. The cadre, to my great relief, accepts my proposal that I will use my powers if needed and deal with the sanctioning process when (or rather if) we get back alive. We press on.

Exploration
We decide to explore the buildings in order. The first is a storehouse, housing a lot of crates and the now decrepit anti-air missile shield. One of the Jannisaries discover a body frozen in the ice. Closer examination reveal it (and probably the 15 or so others) to be a prisoner from 50 years ago. We move on to what appears to be a control room building of sorts. There are tracks leading into its interior, so we proceed with caution with Dar taking the lead. A circular corridor leads to the control room proper, with nothing interesting but four dead servitors and a lot of useless machinery.

A corridor leads onwards to another building. In the middle we see four bodies...and as Dar approaches, he hears an incessant buzzing in his head, as a swarm of insects are near. We see nothing though...so we press onwards. As Dar approaches the corpses, the buzzing rises to unbearable levels and he cries out. The rest of us are wary - is he being attacked somehow? Controlled? But after a while he gets a hold of himself.

The bodies are a mixed group. One of them is a mercenary similar to the ones we just bested. The other three are representatives of our good old friends the Pilgrims of Hayte. The Pilgrims have been killed in ordinary ways, while the mercenary's head has been bitten off. A psychneuein? Seems likely.

The next building is unoccupied, with a lot of doors which we mostly ignore given that we're under time constraints and no one else has entered them. At the end is an elevator going down to "Utility". It has been jury-rigged to move. We decide to go check out out the fortress before going down to what we assume is the mine area, so we take the battery so that elevator can't be summoned from below.

One of the Janissari sergeants vox us that they've spotted movement in the fortress in one of the windows on the second floor. We spend some time sneaking the long way around to the fortress (as sneaky as the power armors allow us to be that is...). Dar once again (actually) sneaks ahead. The entrance is clear. The first level is huge, we ignore it for the time being. Dar sneaks upstairs. In one of the corridors a barricade has been erected, though a long time ago. A group of arbitrator corpses is locates nearby.

The horrors begin
I send out the pict fly into the room where the movement was spotted. The images reveal a horrible-looking beast of some kind - before it then winks out of existence. What in the abyss? Shamefully, I was unable to recognize the thing. We forge ahead...when one of the Jannisaries informs us that one of their comrades is gone. Just gone. No one noticed anything. There are no tracks. Surprisingly, weird incidents abound on Mara...

We enter the room where the pict fly recorded the beast. Nothing jumps us, but there's a sniper rifle leaned against the window and a lit lho stick in the window sill. Signs that someone has camped out here are evident. We see no one and there are no tracks. There is, however, a sign scrawled in soot into the floor. I recognize it as a sign used in the Inquisition to warn of "danger:static". Meaning there's a danger that's specific to this area. Okay...we can't quite make heads and tails out of anything and decide to move along.

Despite the danger, I suggest we explore the fortress for useful knowledge, such as journals, maps and so forth. God-Emperor, why am I a human and not a cat? That is surely the only reason my curiosity hasn't killed me..though some of my comrades have certainly suffered. As we all would now.

The third floor doesn't contain anything particularly interesting. We find the officers' HQ, but nothing of interest is there. On the second floor, however, we find the comm station area - and it's functioning. Obviously, someone's been there before us. A confusing array of images are shown on the screens. The cutter is visible on one. On another, prisoners are working in the mines with arbitrators overseeing them. And on a third, we see a big man in a power armor with the Inquisitiorial badge clearly shown along with five others. Lovely, it seems the Tyrantine Cabal has indeed dispatch a cadre as well.

A near-tragedy
I try to recall who the Inquisitor might be...and decide to reach into the Warp to help me remember. As soon as I start drawing power, I can feel everything going horribly wrong - and three psychneuein appear from out of nowhere. All of the Jannisaries are knocked out simply from being in their horrible presence immediately except the two sergeants. A viscous fight erupts, with Dar going down from two gruesome hits from one of the beasts fairly quickly. And to make matters worse, one of Potter's powers go awry and FOUR more are summoned!

For a while it looks like we are done for, but luckily the Jannisaries recover in the nick of the time. We brought them along for firepower, but we all knew they served a second function - cannon fodder. Lazarus commanded the troops into precarious positions, but it helped turned the tide of the fight. One by one, we dispatched the beasts - Alpha getting a direct hit on one with a full round of her roaring bolter, shells flying around her, Lazarus blasting open the side of another with his shotgun, Potter smashing yet another to a pulp flinging a giant statue at it with the power of his mind.

And in the end we stood victorious, drenched in blood and entrails from both friend and foe. The Jannisaries and their sergeants survived. And miraculously, Dar was not dead. He might appear a simple man from a feral background, but surely the God-Emperor loves him dearly.

Shaken, we heal our wounded, clean ourselves off as we best can and move on. I can barely hold it together, jarred to the core of my being for being the cause of all of this. I resolve to not use my powers again unless strictly necessary.

The cutter
On the way back to the elevator, we stop by the cutter. Dar starts disabling the lock on the door when Alpha spots the bomb attached to it just in time. One second later and Dar's luck would have run out for sure. We disable the bomb and open the lock to the ship. Inside, we see a stripped down cutter designed for speed. Curiously, there's a very peculiar lock on the door to the cockpit - Eldar technology! It proves utterly impossible to open without the key, as one would expect from the Eldar. We exit the ship and set the trap again, but slightly differently (pointing away from the cutter), hoping to kill anyone trying to escape the planet. It is very possible this will be our only hope of escape should we somehow escape the horrors below alive.

Going down
We go back to the elevator, enable it and ride down. A corridor going in each direction greets us. I will skip the uninteresting parts and navigation and skip to the juicy/scary parts. At the end of one corridor, we're faced with yet another barricade, this one with a corpse sitting by it, shotgun in hands, the dried remains of his brains still showing on the wall. Not shying away from cliches, he's written "Make it go away - crawling, crawling in my head" on the wall in his own blood. Lovely, quite lovely. Cliche or not, I am still quite "creeped out" as Alpha would say.

Naturally, we enter the room anyway. There are a bunch of crates and 8 corpses. They've all committed suicide. As we contemplate this, one of the Jannisaries points his Hellgun at one of his comrades and fires a full round into him. Chaos ensues as the more martially inclined charge him, Dar once again getting a solid hit right in his face. Nothing Potter's healing can't handle after we handily take him down and manacle him. He seems completely insane, grinning and laughing hysterically, trying to bite us and so forth. I sedate him enough for him to fall asleep, but I'm not optimistic.

We move on, filled with a growing sense of dread of what might be around the next corner. We move through hospital and insane wards, maintenance rooms, workshops, storage rooms and more. Seemingly random horrors greet us regularly. A corridor with a prisoner who seemingly died 5 minutes ago, scratching at the wall with bloody fingernails. Suddenly, the body starts moving - from the inside. We take no chances and reduce the body to charcoals with the flamers.

We reach a cargo room. A nicely-clad corpse of what seems to be an adept from one of the more radical universites on Scintilla is on the floor, clutching data slates and some notes. A man in power armor is fused with some metal junk of sorts. I conclude it is likely the result of a teleportation gone wrong. They must have been quite desperate to try to teleport to Mara...I would never assume the necessary calculations to not be thrown off by the Warp here. It's almost like a living thing, breathing down your neck, only waiting for you to take one step away from your friends so it can devour you in secret.

As we're standing there, a demon of Hayte charges us - or rather, it charges me. Fairly tall, with a gigantic claw on one arm, I dodge, run and desperately try to stay alive. The rest of our party fire with full force, and God-Emperor be praised! I survive without a scratch. At least to my physical body.

The mines
Finally, we find a corridor that starts going down. After a while, natural caves replace the corridors, and we reach a mine cart at the top of rails going down. I examine the poor Jannisar and inject a dose to wake him up again. Unfortunately, he's still a raving lunatic. The sergeant decides he's a liability and I give him a lethal injection. We say our prayers and move on.

After walking for two kilometers, a vox radio crackles to life with pleads of help. Lazarus resolutely puts a bolter shell through it. A while later, we hear screams of help from a side corridor. What better way to lure in the righteous? Despite Dar's pleas, we head in. For once, we're not greeted by hordes of daemons, but rather a mercenary trapped under some beams, two prisoner corpses with bullet holes next to him.

We free him, weapons trained. He introduces himself as Kort Luther, a mercenary hired by a chartist captain named Aedric. Some "traders" headed up their party, consisting of roughly 50 mercenaries in addition to the four traders. Their leader called herself miss Book - and she carries the key to the cutter cockpit. She also carried a grey tome around...The mercenaries were told they were going to a planet called Mara, which of course meant nothing to them. They started dying rapidly, by the hands of Pilgrims, psychneueins and demons. At one point, one of the mercenaries went crazy and fired a round right into the face of one of the traders. He reacted by punching into his belly, extracting his spine whole and his face instantly healing up. That was enough for Kort and one of his buddies and they ran away. Shortly thereafter his buddy disappeared and Kort was trapped here, attacked by the corpses of the prisoners.

He informs us the Pilgrims' lair is further into the mines. There are about 10 pilgrims, 2 giant constructs of some sort and of course - the Beloved, carrying the grisly face of the Widower around. He's fairly sure he can lead us to the heretics, though "there's something weird with the corridors"...

Miss Book told the mercenaries to keep their eyes open for "the heart of a clock" and "strange machinery that seemed out of place". So, she certainly doesn't have the key. How convenient that we brought it, and that the Beloved brought the Guide.

They also briefly encountered the Inquisitorial party, though they weren't spotted. They had a what clearly was a prisoner in tow, a bald man with an extra eye in his forehead. I assume it's a Navigator. Their leader carried the amulet of a black sun around his neck. Personally, I doubt a Navigator is a good enough guide, unless he somehow is of Haarlock descent. Which is, of course, a distinct possibility.

After a brief discussion, we decide to bring Kort along. Lazarus swears him to the service of the Inquisition and instills the fear of God-Emperor into him with tales of what happens to those who betray us. He is not kidding, the Inquisition takes revenge very, very seriously...

The Mara landing-Ground Hog's day crossover

We continue with our preparations for Mara, gathering equipment and supplies suitable for the mission and preparing ourselves.

I have decided to get one of the tatoos; it will work as a ward against warp influence. It will cover my entire body, face and all. In essence it is not at all as momentous as becoming part of the inquisition, however it feels much more real; every time I see myself on pict or in the mirror I am most forcefully reminded that I am no longer first and foremost a detective. Questioning witnesses with my face covered in warp-warding tatooes will certainly be different from what I am used to. I am now an agent of the inquisition, first and foremost, and I can no longer fool myself to think otherwise. On the other hand, I get to participate in the solving of the Haarlock riddle. And there is hardly a bigger game in the sector at the moment.

Other than that I have got a custom crafted power sword, a most powerful implement. In addition I have expanded my arsenal with a combat shotgun with chain sword attachment, two hand flamers of the destroyer type, and a recoil glove. On Mara there is no way, or reason, to pretend that we are anything resembling 'civilians'.

We will get passage on the Sigilites Word, a renowned top of the line frigate, and we will have support from 2 psychers and a small complement of Maccabian Janissaries on Mara. The Janissaries are led by Childres and Makrade. The two psykers are Kessa Silinius the astropath, and old lady without eyes, and Kalium Samiel the battle psyker, a handsome, dark haired man. Kalium is part of our support team because he has experience figthing psychneuein, a very dangerous warp-xeno that is attracted to casting of spells. They are numerous on Mara, or in the warp on Mara, if that is close in any ordinary sense of the word. More importantly, they are melee experts, and lay eggs inside humans. Wonderful.

Finally we board, the Sigillites Word is in very good shape. We get the biggest rooms I have ever seen on a vessel, certainly much better than what we had on the passage to Xicarp. We even have our oun servitor butler, Jeeves. As soon as we board the Word sets off.

On the trip I decide to start penning a diary. It somehow feels right; there is something very final about going to Mara, and we are leading a team as throne agents. All in all, this seems like something that needs to be recorded. On the first day aboard we meet the captain, Captain Exail. He is very young, but seems very on top of his game. He explains that the Word will be in geostationary orbit, above the penal station on Mara, and that we will deorbit on a lander. He serves us a most extraordinary dinner.

The trip in itself is uneventful, except for a few incidents. We talk to the sergeants to prepare them for our kind of operation; we assume that we require a bit more initiative and thinking on your feet than ordinary military operations. We also gather all the Janissaries, and I try to scare them sufficiently for them to stay on their toes for the mission. Time will tell if it worked.

We also have a meeting with the psykers, Kessa dislikes being subject to our leadership. It should not be a problem, however we are dependent on the astropath.

We take stock before entering the Mara system: on a general level we have no inkling about what to expect; we have the pattern, the Grey Psalter, and a key, the Steel Hart, but we have no guide. Going in more or less blind, as usual.

As the Word enters the Mara system we are called to the bridge; it is enormous with the ambience of a temple of war. As soon as we drop out of warp, the ship rings like a gong from hits. Twice. A spacebattle is unfolding, with several sides. The Mara monitors are fighting other human ships, and we see a very strange looking one in the distance. The Word is both firing and being fired upon.

Suddenly we see a strange light outside the Word, and all the servitors fall silent. Then they speak in unison: 'the traveller shall return, and the stars shall die, his servants come, the key turns'. We see a ship made from bone and bright granite, it is Haarlocks vessel, the Spear of Destiny. It fires something that looks like light, but destroys one vessel per shot.

We run to the hangar, and are received by the Jannisaries, who have made a perimeter around our lander. As we leave the last thing we see is Samiel, his eyes rolled into his skull, consumed in flames he screams 'the traveller shall return, and the stars shall die, his servants come, the key turns'. As the lander leaves the Word, she bucks and is blown apart. No point in looking back now. May the Emperor watch over us, so that we may suceed in stopping Haarlock.

On the way down we take a hit. Alpha tries to save the ship, but we go in hard. Two Janissaries are killed, and so our work on Mara proper starts. At least the astropath is alive. Holder-Smith patches up the survivors.We move out, toward the penal station. Dar sneaks ahead, to check on the gate. He discovers that it is guarded, by tripping a trap. We storm it.Potter uses a few spells, and a psychneuein appears. It is though, but we kill it. We take stock, and it turns out we have no casualties.

Around the gate I see tracks from about 15 persons. We proceed inwards.