The squad of faithful Arbites had born the brunt of the attack and had fallen beneath the gorey hands of the daemons first. Simone had felt the emotion of seeing the good men and women die rise in her chest as pity that turned to rage. She had remembered the prayer that had lashed out from her mind that had pushed Gaius away before. She had raised her hands and whispered the prayer again. The purity and power of her devotion had washed out and filled the hallway in front of her. She saw it as a flood of warm light that dissolved the black flesh of the daemons where ever it touched. But she didn't think anyone else could see it, nether Malachi nor Lukas reacted to it. But the daemons were another story.
The daemons had howled and shuddered as the light touched them. They shrank back and gibbered at each other as though surprised to meet this kind of resistance. As they had milled for a few seconds, her guards and the rest of the Arbites had surged forward and slaughtered them. Left behind, Simone had changed the prayer. It went from her steadfast faith to the Emperor's terrible judgment on the foul things of chaos. The light, once warm and strong, had gone white hot: to bright to look at. The daemons caught in its path had screeched and burned.
The Sister had whipped the daemons forward again over the smoking corpses of their fellows. But the momentum gained by the defenders had turned the tide. Barely. Simone had continued to pour her fledgling power out while Malachi and Lukas and the rest of the Arbites had made their desperate battle. In the end only Malachai, Lukas and three Arbites had remained.
They were far too few now to make the treacherous way to the center of the Cathedral, Malachi had suggested and Simone had agreed that they needed to pull back further. Possibly find a route to rejoin with the Convent's forces. If the Convent still stood. After a brief discussion, Malachi had been dispatched to find a safer way to rejoin the Sororitas while the rest of them had secured a small alcove near the rear of the Cathedral.
And so they waited here for Malachi's return. Simone was deeply grateful for the moment to rest. The power she had been using had drained her. She felt as though she had run a hundred leagues in her full armor. She glanced up and saw Lukas studying her. His youthful face was pale and his ridicules freckles stood out as if they were painted on. She sighed, he was …uncertain of her now. Maybe even afraid. Lukas quickly looked back to the Arbites' wrist, a flush rising on his cheeks.
She put the bolter in it's holster. Her head was pounding. But there was something more. She stood and closed her eyes letting her sense expand. Like Harodiah had taught her, she could 'see' each of the people with her in the alcove. Their auras bright with what she had come to understand as 'human' colors. But something tickled the edges of her awareness. She had felt the brittle slickness of the Daemonettes and the thunderous darkness of the Sisters who had turned to Slaanesh. But this was neither of them. It was more a sound or a sensation along her skin. It felt as if a second heart had begun beating inside of her chest. "Lukas?" she asked quietly, "Do you hear that?"
The heavy drapery gathered at each side of the entrance to the antechamber suddenly belled out to reveal Gaius, resplendent in his muscled armor of deep purple, a cloak of lavender velvet flowing behind him. He grinned as he looked over the assembled Imperials, "I hope I'm not disturbing anything…"
Lukas moved immediately, but Gaius' speed was superhuman. He grabbed the soldier by the collar of his armor and hurled him into one of the Arbitrator with a terrible clash and crackle of snapping bones. The other two Arbites raised their shotguns and fired at point blank range, but the shells ricocheted harmlessly off his pectoral plates. His hand whipped out and grabbed one by the helmet, crushing it in his hand like an overripe grapefruit. With a sweep of his other arm, his psychic might pulsed outward, engulfing the remaining Arbite in green balefire.
Chapter 33: Simone Godschilde, Madonna of Slaanesh
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