With a groan of ancient gear wheels and a hiss of steam the blast door opened to allow Varash entrance. The chaos warrior stepped into the next section of darkened corridor, his armoured boots clanging on the steel deck. Beneath his death's head helm, auto-sensors fed information directly into the marines brain; The cold steel of his surroundings, the pipes and cables that spilled from the ceiling in places, and the faint whine of the ships internal workings.
Varash's mind disregarded these irrelevancies and focused on his destination. The ship gave a slight shudder as its shields compensated for turbulence in the warp before returning to course, hurtling on through the dark ether. Varash barely noticed, his attention fixed on the portal he now approached. Great brass doors rose before him, adorned with symbols of chaos and scenes from countless battles past. Here, a battle from the Great Crusade, here the scene before the Emperor's palace, and here, scenes of slaughter on one of the countless hell-worlds in the Eye of terror. Sigils etched into the metal glowed dully in the dim light, making the armour of the chaos marine appear as if bathed in blood. Varash extended a mailed hand and depressed a rune set into the door's centre. With a faint click the eye of Horus symbol sank into the portals arcane surface. The warrior stood back and waited.
The sound of heavy machinery and the clang of pistons and bolts filled the entranceway. With a final boom of noise the doors cracked open, slowly grinding apart to reveal the darkness within. The optic senses of Varash quickly adjusted to the reduced light, and he gazed into the room within. Giving as much of a bow as his bulky terminator armour would allow, he entered the throne room of his lord.
Saurion the Red sat unmoving atop a dais in the centre of the room. Cold light spilled from an unseen source high above in the vaulted ceiling to illuminate his form. Motes of dust in the air reflected the light, giving the form an unholy aura. His throne was fashioned from the skulls of his favourite enemies. The helm of a wolf lord rested under one boot, whilst the other stood on the skull of an Imperial commander, lying in eternal intimacy with an ork warlords helm. The death mask of an Eldar solitaire lay alongside the head of a Farseer, whilst the faceplate of an eversor assassin nestled within the jaws of a hive tyrant. Above this grisly collection sat the chaos lord, his huge terminator armour adorned with skulls and symbols of chaos. Archaic markings crawled across the surface, and countless battle scars pocked its exterior. Beside the figure a great sword rested, its bound daemon baying distantly for blood and war.
Chained to the wall behind were the sarcophagi of two ancient dreadnoughts. Huge rings of iron driven deep into the stone restrained the maddened creatures. They were the oldest surviving members of the chapter besides the lord himself. He kept them with him, speaking of times long past during their rare moments of lucidity or listening to their more usual howls of rage and madness. Varash did not speculate on which of these states his lord preferred.
The figure on the dais sat unmoving, as if carved from the very stone of the surrounding chamber. Only the eyes betrayed the impression, for they burned with an ageless hatred that ten thousand years of slaughter had not sated.
"Speak" the word echoed throughout the chamber, further deepening its sound.
Varash bowed again. "My lord, we approach the border worlds. The ship is preparing to drop from warp as per your orders. We have located the planet containing the repositorium and are vectoring our warp exit to fall within its orbit"
Varash waited for his lord's response with the patience only the immortal know.
At length Saurion spoke. "Prepare the assault force. The repositorium is to be captured intact. We have been away from the mortal realms too long. Things have… changed, and I wish to acquaint myself with the new order"
The chaos lord rose from his seat, his massive form dominating the room, and strode to a porthole set into one wall. Outside the warp streamed past. Ghostly creatures materialised at the edge of vision, before fading back into the abyss.
"Yes, we have been away to long. The mortals will have forgotten what it is to fear. I will teach them, as I taught their fathers, and their fathers before them. Cities will burn and planets will fall. It shall be as it has always been, for only chaos is eternal."
Saurion turned back towards his lieutenant. " In the end we shall have them - they cannot run, they cannot hide, even in death. It is only a matter of time before we once again stand amidst the ruins of the ultimate gate, only this time there will be no escape for their false emperor. And time is one resource we have in abundance."
Turning back to his throne Saurion seized his sword, watching in satisfaction as it glowed in his fist, writhing in anticipation at the carnage to come.
"Prepare my drop ship, we shall scour this miserable system of life before launching our crusade into the interior worlds. Let the fool mortals tremble at our approach"
Saurion lifted the weapon above his head and intoned the rite of desolation;
"There is no solace
There is no mercy
There is no hope
There is only chaos"
He turned on his heel and marched from the room, accompanied by the roars of hunger from the bound dreadnoughts, their chains groaning under the strain as they waited for release.
And Varash tuned and followed his master of ten millennia towards where the forces of chaos awaited their leader, and their chance for final, eternal revenge.
Let the galaxy despair, for Saurion the Red has returned.