10/06/2012 in Warhammer 40K
Countless gas lanterns high in the rockrete and plasteel rafters flickered lazily and heavy incense burners thumped into life as they gave out thick plumes of rich smoke into the hall of bay 13. The great bell thundered in its wooden housing deep within the ships cavity to mark the passing of six standard solar months. The metallic clang rolled around the massive chamber causing imperceptible stirring amongst the ancient occupants.
In the silence that marked the bell’s passing, static crackled and expanding metal ticked. Great constructs of machine fused with ancient men on the fringe of a great abyss bobbed gently as they fell once more into sleep. Save for one.
Battle Brother Drusillus strode through the bay, his black carapace gleaming as it caught the occasional light of the lanterns he passed. His bare feet patted on the cold floor as he passed acres of ordnance lying dormant: belts of bolter rounds stacked high were carefully inscribed with the blessings of ignition, flight and penetration, power vials trembled with dormant plasma, promethium canisters lay in tanks of viscous retardant and finally, behind a stasis shield reaching high into the dark, stood a venerable delivery system from millennia ago. Inside it, suspended, a strain of world eater virus slept.
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