The chamber was dark, the black stone walls barely lit by the burning flickering torches or lux-globes that spread a cold grey light around the room whilst from the speakers hidden in alcoves or worked artfully into black iron angels, chants and prayers to the Emperor played, a low background noise in addition to beneditions against Chaos and Heresy.
“This looks familiar does it not brother?” Angron said, giving Ragnar a sidelong glance, the hulking armoured form of the Primarch seeming ghostly, one minute solid the next little more than a haze.
“An Inquisition interrogation cell…yes I’ve seen these unhallowed places…” Ragnar replied, resisting the urge to throw himself at the shadowed form of the traitor Primarch.
“And do they look familiar?”
Angron said, stepping back. A dozen meters down, beyond the armoured glass were four cold steel tables with four people strapped to them. More hooded acolytes could be seen and there was the ozone tang of psychic powers being used.
Bobby, Logan, Thor, Baird were all strapped to the tables. The blond Asgardian was encased in the shimmering blur of a stasis field whilst capacitors whined, building a charge to a large barrel descending from the roof. Thor’s face was frozen in a silent, unending shout of defiance, his blue eyes open, shining with the strength that Ragnar knew was the core of his being. But in a stasis field, there was nothing he could do, he was frozen in time.
Baird was not frozen in stasis, he kept thrashing against his bindings, the armourplas blocking out what he was saying but Ragnar was lip reading regardless.
"You're a bunch of fuckin' idiots! So brainless your asshole 'emperor' could skullfuck you and not lower your IQs one bit! Yeah, pray to your god, see how much he cares!"
The Serran looked battered and bruised, a las burn on his right arm had been crudely healed, not that it mattered, you did not leave these chambers alive unless you was extremely lucky.
Logan was next, bound, stripped and chained, his hands encased in metal gloves, lashed and chained to the table like some kind of animal, a metal gag jammed into his mouth but his eyes burned brightly with hate and anger.
Bobby was the last, metal probes were sunk into his skull and spine, connected to a host of machines and his table and body were covered with a layer of psychic frost, his expressions slack and dull.
“Of course…they lobotomised him..but even that is not enough for the followers of the Corpse Emperor is it…Brother..” Angron hissed, his words pouring into Ragnar’s ear like hot lead as the Wolves stomach lurched before he started pounding his fists on the armourplas view port.
“Save your strength Ragnar Blackmane, you know what comes next…”
Down below a door hissed open and cherubim flew in flittering in patterns round the chamber as a robed Inquisitor in full regalia came in, followed by his servants reading aloud from the books of Pain and Punishment. A taller, armoured form was at his side but Ragnar could not make it out due to the darkness that defeated even his low light vision. A crimson robed Adept of the Mechanicum was also present, although to call him Human was a stretch of the imagination as his mechandrites snapped and swayed like a nest of snakes above his shoulders.
“For crimes most foul against the God Emperor of Mankind, for Tech-heresy, for causing the death and injury of His most Holy servants, for refusing to accept the Emperor’s light into your hearts and souls, for genetic impurity, for perverting the most Hallowed Form of Man and for refusing to be taken into His most Holy service with psychic abilities, you are all to be sentenced to death. Your crimes are many, your heresy obvious and the damage you caused before being subdued extensive. There can be no redemption for you, no mercy. Abhor the Witch. Hate the Mutant. Kill the Heretic. So as it was, so shall it be, God Emperor be blessed.”
Over all this Baird was laughing, pouring white hot scorn onto the Inquisitors words that had no effect, forming a background noise to the Inquisitors amplified voice but Ragnar felt proud at his friends defiance.
“Why..why show me this…to break my will?”
“Ragnar..that will break eventually…but not here, not now.” Angron replied with a chuckle that sounded like a tank’s engine starting up.
“But you have forgotten who and what you are. You ape their emotions, you copy their friendship…longing for the brotherhood denied to you…you know what you are…what you do. You’re a killer…and you will turn on them in the end. All of them. The wolf will take you…and they will not survive…the death they suffer here..is far more merciful…”
Down below in the chamber the armoured form walked forwards and Ragnar wanted to roar in refusal. He saw himself, fully armoured, Frostfang in hand, walking towards the bound prisoners, getting to Baird first.
“Just fucking do it already…at least I won’t have to eat any of your shitty prison food…fucking worst junk I’ve ever tasted.”
‘Ragnar’ raised Frostfang, the blade roaring to life. “In nomine Dei Imperator . Mors est haereticus .” The blade fell and Ragnar awoke, a scream barely held in his chest, his body bathed with sweat, Angron's cold chuckle still ringing in his ears.