As Amon-Hur filed past the mass of red-great coated men he could see that they were defeated. It would take time for his brothers in the Pavoni cult to restore their spirits and the Space Wolves were advancing through the Apophis complex to outflank their forward positions.
He would not let this happen.
He looked over his force as they moved into the complex and knew that the troops he had couldn't stop the forces the Space Wolves could bring to bear.
He had one chance. The Mirror of Memories still stood atop the Statuary building in the complex. Those barbarian Wolves would have no idea what the artifact was, or how easily it could be used against them.
It had taken all of Apophis' considerable power to force back the power of the mirror enabling his force to approach the Eldar weapon. All it would take would be one Astarte to pull the shroud off and the Space Wolves seeing it would be stopped in their tracks, it would deny the enemy access to the compound from that point forward.
He wasn't sure whether or not it would work against the Null Maidens the Wolves had in their ranks but if those were the only animate enemy they would face, they could easily be dealt with.
One reconstituted squad of Spireguard moved alongside his Thousand Sons. He couldn't believe that not long ago they had been a battalion. Now there were ten of them.
As he looked at the small Necroplex he could see some small signs of damage. It had been passed by quickly in both the initial advance and the first retreat. This would be the first real fighting that took place in the complex. So many precious pieces of the past could be damaged in the fighting. Amon-Hur sighed at the thought.
His distraction was only momentary, he ordered his men forward while concentrating on boosting his already heightened metabolism.
All caution had been thrown to the wind as far as using their powers was concerned. The secret was out of the bag.
Magic energies swirled around each of the Thousand Sons squads as they advanced but just as they seemed to coalesce into something they snapped out and the warriors were forced to start over again.
Sergeant Um-Haffa was advancing towards the Statuary Room trying everything to urge his squad forward. Amon-hur could see the strain he was under energy surging out and being snuffed out.
"Careful Um-Haffa," Amon-hur voxed him, "you strain too much."
It was too late, this time the magics didn't snuff out but were reflected back into the sorcerer. All the Thousand Sons around him watched in horror as the Sergeant's arms distended and twisted, horns growing out of his body and through his armour. His armour almost seemed to fuse with him becoming one gestalt creature.
Amon-Hur could sense the power leaking out from the Sergeant as he howled and pushed his squad forward.
They are too late, the Rhino on their right disgorges a squad of Space Wolves and the Custodes are approaching from the left. A rattle of heavy bolter fire sends fragments of the flag stones rattling around inside the narrow alley they have advanced down. Suddenly bolter fire erupts all around them and marine after marine drops to the shooting. Howling his resentment at them Um-Haffa continues to advance into the shooting and to his disgust Amon-Hur sees blood erupt out when the bolts shatter the shoulder pads on his sergeant. Eventually the rounds put the lone Astartes down.
Amon-Hur surges forward with the Terminators. They will not allow these savages to destroy everything. His power flows out of him, unchecked this time, and into Um-Haffa. As it slowly knits the Sergeants body back together it also starts to reverse the fleshchange. Amon-Hur was tapping into powers he wasn't aware he had.
The Terminators charged into the advancing Custodes.
They don't stand a chance but Amon-Hur hopes they can buy him enough time to get to the roof of the Statuary Room and uncover the mirror.
He moves to the right of the fighting and prepares himself to cut through a wall of grey clad Space Wolves.
After slicing down three of them, a bolter round hits him in the hip punching through the joint there in his armour and shattering his hip bone and femur. He goes down hard and the Wolves turn their attention the the Terminators struggling against the Custodes.
From his prone position Amon-Hur can only watch as the Terminators are struck down one-by-one. He weaves the energies around him directing them towards his massive injury, the pain is impressive as the magics start pulling the wound back together.
As the last of the Terminators is struck down he staggers to his feet. His plasma pistol glows hot for a second and one of the Space Wolves sinks to the ground, a hole burned through both man and armour.
As Amon-hur faces down the pack of Wolves and Custodes he allows the magic to flow from him, through the ground and into the inert form of the Terminator Sergeant, he feels it start to knit the almost dead Astartes wounds back together.
His consciousness is split between that and firing bolts of hot plasma into the ranks of the enemy. An almost inhuman roar comes from the center of the Space Wolves.
The Captain comes rushing through his men and is upon the Thousand Son in a moment. His lightning claw slices through the plasma pistol causing a minor explosion that separates the two combatants. But the Space Wolf comes back to the attack.
Amon-hur brings his force weapon around in an attempt to cut off the lightning claw at the elbow, but the warriors pulls it back. The force weapon cleaves into the mans armour and then into his chest.
With a mental effort Amon-Hur pulls the Space Wolf's soul out of his body, but the Wolf was already in motion and the lightning claws were heading straight for the sorcerer's eyes. The blades penetrated the translucent lenses in the helmet and then through Amon-Hur's eyes and into his brain.
In their momentum the two Astartes collapse together, their blood pooling on the formerly white marble flagstones.
The Custodes charge on past without a backward glance at the fallen warriors. The Astartes pause for a moment to look down on their fallen commander before following.
As the warriors go past the Tomb of Apophis they are able to enfilade the other Thousand Sons blocking the exit to the necroplex ending the stale mate on the other side of the battlefield.
The rallying Spireguard would now be easy pickings.
