'We'll need to climb,' said Pasanius.
Uriel nodded and turned to watch the battle below, seeing bodies flying through the air and leaping arcs of blue lightning as the denizens of this awful place fought against the Unfleshed.
'Emperor watch over you,' whispered Uriel as he gripped the iron bars of one of the daemonculaba cages and began to climb. The thick chain was some ten metres above them, and even in the dim light he could see it was firmly embedded in the chamber's wall with a rockcrete plug.
'I'll need a hand,' said Pasanius as Uriel reached the top of the cage, sounding thoroughly ashamed to be asking for help.
Uriel turned back, mortified that it hadn't occurred to him that Pasanius might have difficulty in reaching the chain with only one arm until this moment. He reached down and helped his sergeant climb to join him.
Rusted struts and long-abandoned scaffolding pierced the rock below the plug, presumably left behind by those who had put it there in the first place.
He heard a piteous, mewling cry of anguish from below him and looked down through the mesh of the cage roof into the weeping face of the daemonculaba.
Uriel knelt as close as he could to the tormented creature. 'I will see your suffering ended,' he promised. Her eyes closed slowly and Uriel thought he detected an almost imperceptible nod of her bloated head.
'There is not enough suffering in the galaxy to make the Iron Warriors pay for what they have done here,' said Pasanius, his voice choked with emotion.
'No,' agreed Uriel, 'there is not, but we will make them suffer anyway.'
'Aye,' agreed Pasanius as they climbed onto the roof of the cage and made their way further up the sides of the shadowed chamber, their goal nearing with every heave upwards.
The sounds of battle continued to rage from below as they clambered over the protruding scaffolding spars wedged into cracks in the rock and pulled themselves level with the chain.
As thick as Pasanius's forearm, it stretched off towards the centre of the chamber and the Heart of Blood.
'Ready?' asked Uriel.
'Ready,' nodded Pasanius, spitting on his palm.
Taking a firm grip on the flaking, rusted chain, the two Space Marines pulled with all their strength to wrench the awl-chain from the Heart of Blood's body.
Leonid sprayed a burst of full auto lasfire towards the skulking, vacuum-suited mutants taking cover behind a row of blood-filled barrels. His bolts punctured the containers, spilling crimson arcs from their sides. He knew he hadn't killed any of them, but it kept their heads down. He'd seen the mutant creature, Sabatier with the armed slaves of the Savage Morticians and dearly desired to put a bolt through that monster's head.
Damn, but it felt good to fire a weapon in anger again! The chaos of the bloody struggle swirled and raged around him, the Unfleshed battling with a primal ferocity against their creators and their slaves to give the Ultramarines more time to bring down the Heart of Blood.
The Lord of the Unfleshed bellowed as he slew, his powerful fists bringing death to his enemies with every blow. A black-robed monster reared up on great pneumatic legs equipped with shrieking blades, but another of the Unfleshed, a gibbering horror of limbs and mouths, landed upon it and tore its legs off with savage jerks.
Leonid rolled into the cover of the smoking remains of the crushing machine to reload as the Savage Mortician collapsed and its killer leapt for another victim. The limbless form of Obax Zakayo screamed, 'Kill me!' from his cruciform rack, but Leonid ignored him, too intent on the battle around him.
As ferocious as the Unfleshed were, the Savage Morticians had been practitioners of the art of death for uncounted millennia, and if there was one thing they knew, it was the weaknesses of flesh. Even when it was as resilient as that of the Unfleshed.
Flying razor discs lopped off thick limbs and heavy darts coated with poisons that could only exist in the Eye of Terror stabbed into pounding veins to slay their victims before they were even aware they were hit.
Creatures were dying and even the relentless fire of the Savage Morticians' servants was taking its toll, volley after volley cutting down the Unfleshed where they fought.
Leonid rose from cover and saw a Savage Mortician with massive chainblades for fists scuttle behind the Lord of the Unfleshed as he tore the torso from the mechanised track-unit of yet another foe. Leonid swung the barrel around and squeezed off a burst of bright lasbolts.
His aim was true and the Savage Mortician's head exploded, its twitching form slumping to the ground behind the Lord of the Unfleshed. The massive creature spun as he heard it fall, his confusion at its death turning to savage joy as he saw who had saved him. He beat his fists on his chest and roared, 'Now you Tribe!'
Even as Leonid ducked back into cover, he heard the thump of booted feet behind him. He spun, bringing the barrel of his lasgun up, seeing half a dozen mutant slave warriors armed with cudgels and billhooks bearing down upon him. An iron-tipped club slashed for his head and he hurled himself backwards, too slow, the tip of the weapon thudding against his temple.
He dropped his lasgun, hands flying to his head as the world spun crazily and bright starbursts exploded before his eyes. The ground rushed up to meet him and he slammed into the hard rockcrete, closing his eyes as he waited for the killing blow to land.
The shadow of something hot and heavy fell across him and warm blood splashed him.
He opened his eyes and shook his head, regretting it the moment he felt hammerblows of concussion reverberate inside his skull. The Lord of the Unfleshed towered above him, his thickly-muscled body pierced by a score of long blades and burned by innumerable lasburns. The creature reached down to lift him to his feet, and Leonid saw the bodies of those who had been about to kill him.
They looked like an explosion in an anatomist's collection, a mass of severed limbs and burst-open bodies.
'Thank you,' managed Leonid, wiping blood from the side of his head and bending to retrieve his fallen weapon.
'You Tribe,' replied the Lord of the Unfleshed as though no other explanation was needed. Without another word, the creature hurled itself back into the fray. Scores of the Unfleshed were dead, but the remainder fought on, unrelenting in their savagery. More and more of their foes were pouring into the chamber and Leonid knew it would not be long until they were overwhelmed.
He looked up towards the gantries surrounding the chamber, willing Uriel and Pasanius to hurry.
The veins on Uriel's arms stood out like steel hawsers as he pulled on the chain. Bracing themselves against the raised edge of the scaffolding before him, they hauled with all their might on the chain.
Uriel's booted feet slipped and he spread his stance to gain better leverage. The grinding pain in his chest and neck from his cracked bones tore into him as he pulled, but he focussed his mind, using all the discipline he had been taught at Agiselus and in the Temple of Hera to shut it out.
'Come on, damn you!' he yelled at the chain, hearing the ferocious sounds of battle and knowing that the Unfleshed were dying for him.
He could not let them down, and redoubled his efforts.
Pasanius strained at the chain also, sweat popping from his brow as he hauled on the chain. The sergeant was much stronger than Uriel, but had only one arm with which to heave at the chain.
Together, they put every ounce of their hatred for the Iron Warriors into their efforts.