Cursing wildly in High Gothic, the inquisitor tried to force the systems of his power armor to obey him, but it seemed like all the machine spirits in the world banded together and turned the peak of human technology into a piece of junk. He was able to use only the basic support systems and all the advanced functions he needed seemed to be off limits.

  When the map of his head gear display began showing a wide smiling goo, he had an urge to strip the useless piece of heretek off him and stomp it deep under the sand below his feet. He quickly reconsidered only because fighting anything without his power armor would be very dangerous, especially in the light of their last enemy, the remains of which lay in front of him and his high elven friend in a pool of blood, dead.

  Hopefully dead. Becoming a bubbling pool should warrant death in all circumstances, but the Materium around them was too thin to let them relly on common sense too much.

  He ran towards one of the gates and entered one of the ruined buildings, which seemed to had housed the Adeptus Astartes of a Chapter that was long forgotten in the past. He jogged through the crumbling building, which still stood only thanks to the great sturdiness of the original fortress-monastery, until he reached the top floor and had a view of the surrounding land. The high elf followed in his steps and he could see the shock in his eyes when he stood at his side and saw their surroundings.

  "I really hope this isn't warp." Keal Gull looked at the sky above them and the horizon itself, both of which seemed to be distorted, making their eyes hurt just from a single look at the ominous fluctuations in space in the distance. "In the best case scenario, the Materium around us is very weak."

  "And in the worst?" The high elf behind him managed to speak out, his eyes full of despair. Half of the terms his comrade kept using had no meaning to him.

  "Well, this might already be the Immaterium and we will have a hell of a time getting out of here. Not counting the little detail that things like him are a common occurrence in the warp." The inquisitor pointed at the pool of blood they had left bubbling at the courtyard and a shiver ran though Lor'themar's spine.

  "Let's pretend it cannot happen and have a seat inside. Something might see us here." Kael Gull moved back inside and sat on the floor, his back propped against one of the ruined walls. Shortly, another back slid next to him and the high elf plopped down lifelessly at his side.

  "What are you even talking about?! There has to be a way back!" Lor'themar stated and was about to stand up and look for the closed warp portal for the tenth time, but an armored hand stopped him, catching his arm.

  "You have seen it up close, portals like that cannot be held open for long and the demon responsible for it is already dead. Adding to that, I do think there is an organized effort on the other side to keep the portal closed. There is almost no chance for it to reopen, by running around, you will only attract unwanted attention." The inquisitor peered through the cracks in the wall, his eyes squinting. "We do not want any extra eyes on us."

  "It is certainly a better plan than to just sit here and wait!" The high elf was not convinced and his body stayed tense.

  "Warp fluctuates, we should wait for a while, it should get better." Or worse, but that was something Kael swallowed back into his throat, as his companion's nerves seemed to be too tense as they were. There was no need to add fuel to the fire.

  "To do what exactly?"

  "I might be able to contact someone." The high elf ended up sitting back down in resignation. He was obviously confused and could not understand half the terms Kael kept using. He even did not want to understand.

  He lived for thousands of years thanks to the energies of the Sunwell and all this time, his home was like an immovable constant. Out of the blue, there was no Sunwell, no Quel'Thalas. He could feel it in his bones, the creeping ache, the void left after the warm bliss of the well.

  Lor'themar gritted his teeth and tried to overcome the uncomfortable feeling, his trembling hands tightening into fists. He tried to search for a little bit of comfort in the cold wall, but it only exacerbated the emptiness he felt inside.

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  As they sat in silence, the inquisitor glanced at his companion and saw his state. He did not think much about it, he had seen much worse. At some occasions, he had been forced to assess the sanity of psykers at his side and decide whether they posed a security risk for his mission.

  It was obvious what he had been forced to do when they failed to pass his examination, but Lor'themar was far from that point.

  They sat in silence, except for the howling wind that carried sand through the damaged walls of the ruined fortress-monastery.

  "Are we going to sit here until we turn into two stumps?" The white haired elf sat against a dark brick wall, looking extremely lean compared to the frame of the man siting next to him. He clenched his left hand tightly to suppress the shiver that ran though it, as the symptoms of mana withdrawal settled deep within his body.

  "Calm yourself, I need to think." Keal Gull responded, his brain flushing away all the adrenaline lingering due to their intense confrontation with the daemon. He observed every inch around them, making sure they were not stuck in the Chaos Wastes of the Immaterium.

  "Calm? Do we just wait until we die?" Lor'themar questioned, panic in his eyes. Even he, with his thousands of years under his belt had not been prepared for the weirdness of their current location.

  "Yes." The inquisitor looked at him, responding in a calm voice. The high elf swiveled his head back to look up at the stars, or at what should have been stars under ordinary circumstances.

  "Are we dead yet?" Lor'themar asked after a minute, adopting Kael's lethargy.

  "I will think about it as well."

  "Great."

  A few minutes later, Kael Gull jumped to his feet and looked around in all directions. Wordless, Lor'themar looked up at him, interested in what kind of wisdom had germinated in the inquisitor's brain and caused him to take action.

  "Well, wise man Kael, what truths has your elder brain discovered?" Lor'themar asked dryly without moving a muscle.

  "Fortunately, we are not lost in the warp. The even better news is, I have a signal!" The inquisitor tapped the part of his armor where his emergency transponder was and moved decisively in the direction of the responding signal.

  * * * *

  A person skittered among his subordinates that swarmed the vast, bleak ruins, the sand riddled with ages old stones and crumbled walls not impeding the movement of his locomotion device, often used by those of the Adeptus Mechanicus, its metallic spider-like legs carrying him swiftly among his peers. His people were at full swing of executing one of the most difficult rescue operations the Magos had ever participated in.

  "Keep the signal stable at calculated values. Avoid bursts when compensating for warp fluctuations. " Magos Eisenarch Alvrick inspected another beacon planted in the barren soil.

  "The readings are not improving. The probability of the target being present below ten percent. Continue?" One of the Tech-priests around him asked.

  "I have already given my command, do you require orders in machine language?" Irritated, the Magos snapped at his subordinate while rushing to adjust another beacon. It appeared like many of the Tech-priests these days thought of themselves as Fabricator-generals, assessing validity of instructions instead of processing his queries properly.

  If he needed to assess risks, he would have given that particular instruction.

  "This operation carries a risk of a minor invasion. I query . ."

  The Magos decided to check the Tech-priest's history after their task was over, he might need to change him later.

  "The risk has already been assessed, continue."

  The planet was no longer under the control of the Imperium of Man, various forces competing over it. The rescue mission had to locate the inquisitor thanks to his emergency transponder with haste and extract him from the hostile planet.

  "I hope we will find him in these huge ass ruins before the lizards or Eldar find us." One of the soldiers providing security to the Adeptus Mechanicus' mission complained with his eyes blinking left and right. The planet was categorized as not exactly under control and the local forces of Astra Militarum on the front lines provided support, as they could not exactly refuse to look for a missing inquisitor.

  At least not directly.

  After Magos Eisenarch Alvrick finally persuaded all his colleagues and escorts, they deployed more devices and were finally able to triangulate the position of the emergency signal originating directly from the inquisitor's power armor.

  * * * *

  "Failure. Another failure." A voice resonated in Lord Tichondrius' head, its last word echoing in his mind like it wanted to corrode it from the inside. His clawed hand trembled, wanting to release his anger via physical means, but he did not dare to show any form of disrespect during his communication with his superior.

  "At this very moment, I should have been standing by your side, unleashing the fury of our legions against the puny mortals!" The voice continued, its loudness in his head transforming into a roar. "There will never be a Lich King!"

  "You have even managed to lose the Frostmourne and the Helm of Dominion!" The eyebrows of Tichondrius twitched when he heard the term, but he did not dare to point out the incorrect term, as it only showed the rage of the speaker.

  "Lord Archimonde, I will make sure. . ." The Dreadlord wanted to change the topic to discuss their future actions, but his superior did not seem to be interested in further communication with him.

  "No, you will make sure to report to Kil'Jaeden from now on. I have no patience for your incompetence." The voice turned cold, indifferent and the leader of the Nathrezim hidden on Azeroth was left alone.

  He did not think that even his reputation could take another blow after the Lich King project had failed. He needed to score a great success before he was demoted or worse. Kil'Jaeden was not known to be a merciful lord.