The figure charging towards him was an Astartes who wanted to kill him.

Ezekial had faced a lifetime of hostile Astartes wishing his death. And he had bested every single one of them. But this one was not wearing the colours of the Fallen. His armour was red and black.

His helm flashed up ident tags:

Flesh Tearer.

Seth, Gabriel.

Chapter Master.

He hesitated. The Flesh Tearers? They were a chapter on the brink of damnation on Baal. How were they here on Armageddon?

The pause lasted only a heartbeat. The Astartes was reaching striking distance, a huge double-handed eviscerator held up high.

Ezekial raised his hand. He had questions that needed answers.

A white-hot fire poured from Ezekial’s eyes and surrounded the charging figure.

He froze the Astartes in place and his mind probed deep into the consciousness of the other, uncaring what pain his intrusion caused.

To his surprise, he was allowed to enter uncontested.

It was Seth. He willed the Flesh Tearer’s muscles to relax and the eviscerator lowered. It was astonishing how fast Seth went from a berserker’s rage to statuesque lucidity. Ezekial’s mind could taste the Astarte’s lust for blood. Every emotion was straining to unleash violence, yet Seth was somehow able to hold it in check.

++Why are you here?++ Ezekiel pulsed.

The eviscerator raised slowly and pointed past Ezekiel. Confident of his hold, the Chief Librarian risked a look behind him.

Armageddon was never a place of beauty. But now it was a hellscape. Daemons and the warp contorted the world and only pockets of sanity remained.

Out of the blood-hued mist behind him, a horde of red skinned daemons came rushing out. He knew without doubt that Seth wanted to meet them head-on.

Ezekiel felt pressed. He had lost contact with his company. He needed to regroup and co-ordinate. He didn’t have time to deal with this madman.

++I am Ezekiel, Chief Librarian of the Dark Angels. I shall release you and we will fall back to our lines together.++

The eviscerator dipped until it was now pointing at him. A voice growled out of Seth’s helm:

“Why do you run?”

Ezekiel’s eyes narrowed in anger. He was not used to being questioned. A choler began to rise within him. The daemon tide was closing too fast.

++I have heard of you Seth. A killer, leading a chapter of maniacs. But I had not heard that you were a fool.++

The tip of the eviscerator touched his breastplate. There was a sudden shove and Ezekiel fell back a step.

His eyes widened in astonishment. He had not permitted such aggression. 

“How have you broken free from my control?” he demanded aloud. 

The daemons surged around them, seeking to block off any escape. Yet the Flesh Tearer had not moved, his great blade still pointed at Ezekiel ignoring the promise of death gathering around them. 

How could he be so damn calm?

“Control?” Seth sneered. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”