The room had an odd crispness to the air, and it made me feel as if I were aboard a starship. The heliox was pronounced, and strangely I felt whatever was causing the air to have such artificial quality could oxidize or be manipulated in ways to expunge all life in the vicinity. My theory was based upon the fact I found myself in a room of unmistakably xenos quality. The walls of this vast archaic chamber looked to be made of some dark adamantium-like metal, with vents of energy pulsating every handful of heartbeats. More modern, likely fluorescent light had been installed above via steel pipes that had been set up by the hands of Ignatius' workers. Men in enclosed suits of white seemed to be congregating at the central mechanism that pulsated as the walls did, though with a greater brightness and volume. I found I couldn't look away with ease, it's dimensions derelict and uncannily wrong to the sensibilities. 

"Did you hear me, filth?" Julius asked, and I barely had time to give him my due attention before he slapped me across the face with considerable force. The sting actually helped to awaken my receptivity to our current predicament. I still didn't speak, letting the pain fade to nothingness. Urien cursed in his tongue, but otherwise said naught at all. It wouldn't serve us to try anything at the current moment. My only hope was in Emmaline and Lazarus, who were thankfully missing from the congregation of prisoners. Julius grabbed my hair and pulled my face up to look at him. 

I simply gave him a look that promised death. He did not take it seriously, dropping my head again. 

"What a pity, Blasius. Or shall I refer to you as Hadrian? I do like being more casual with my guests." 

At that I did look up. Julius sneered at me, grinning like a terran shark. I wondered how exactly he knew, and whether or not that would matter at this point. Of course, he could have known I was Hadrian Drakos the entire time, but that wasn't likely. Emmaline was another option, but if she were in on it, she would be here laughing with the rest of them. As it was, I felt it likely did not matter. Still, it had the desired goal of getting me to speak. 

"Even when I'm in chains, you're insecure. You're a pawn Ignatius. A lackey to this man beside you, scraping at his feet as he in turn scrapes to the abominable, cowardly things he calls gods." I said. His ire was as predictable as gravity, but before I was struck again, he calmed somewhat. He likely thought I was trying to get a rise out of him. Perhaps that was a secondary objective, granted. 

"You know nothing of our pact, or what we are doing here, fool. If you had, you never would have come here. By week's end, no one will be safe." He said. His sister smiled horrifically. Bahometus stood silent, his staff idly coalescing energies languidly as if he were bored. His red eyes ever on me, and as I regarded him, he tilted his head in a bestial fashion. Had I not seen him thrice before, it might have struck me as odd. 

"What can a third rate house and a thrice defeated sorcerer do under a mountain?" I asked, making it known how unimpressed I truly was. The Ignatius family, including a few of his extended family who watched behind them, looked about ready to tear me limb from limb at my lack of respect.

Bahometus chuckled, finally showing a hint of being aware of the conversation. "You needn't play these games to sate your curiosity, Inquisitor. We have nothing to hide from you." He relished, his daemon mask shaking lightly from what I imagined were the movements of his cheekbones. The mask itself breathed as if it were alive. Ignatius looked at him aghast when he said Inquisitor, and it appeared he had neglected to tell his business partner of such information. He lifted a clawed hand to indicate the alien contraption that throbbed with energy and reached the ceiling in the center of the room. "What you see before you is an engine of terraforming by a strange race that were old before your God Emperor was even born. No doubt you see the symbols you recognize." 

I peered at the mechanism, and after a few moments I realized he was right. Arcane symbols that looked wholly unnatural were etched onto its metal skin, including the symbol of tzeentch I had seen on the walls and various heretics. As I studied the symbols, a shrill beeping went off. Julius Ignatius pulled out his comm, clearly not in a patient mood and asked what was happening. He began to speak hurriedly, and then sent his sister off in a hushed tone. I smirked, though I did not know exactly what was happening.

"I take it you've heard of the Eye of Terror, Inquisitor." Julius pipped in, giving a smile that was as self satisfied as it was malevolent. He turned moods quickly. "My colleague and I felt another would do the Segmentum Tempestus good. It would certainly light up the mood of this dreadful backwater." 

"A single machine with your magics can do that?" I chuckled, my effete nature giving way to more base insults. "You'll have an easier time making me believe your family used to be worth anything beyond wiping my ass." 

Bahometus held Julius back with a gesture of his hand, and he stepped forward. "I don't care whether you believe it or not. But did you not notice the view from orbit? Where are we right now, exactly?" He asked, letting me mull it over. "Are we at the center of some great circle? Would it be strange if there were more devices like this, and is it not idealic for such circles to be the basis of incantations?... I wonder why Moldar was made with such a strange design, unlike any other Imperial world. Ring cities are quite an oddity, Inquisitor Drakos. It was almost as if the ruins were left to be built upon..." 

As the horrifying implications ran through my mind, the chains around my wrists were unclasped by militia but kept chained together as workable handcuffs. Urien and Bolskar had the same treatment, and we were led from the alien room into another corridor. The archway was made of the strange material, but the hall was more imperial, which was a definition that disgusted me. Nothing was imperial about this heretical place. I loathed the ruinous room with xenos tech, but when I found myself and my comrades being dragged into a large arena filled with lights and voices, I found I would much rather go back to try and figure out how to stop this thing. 

The crowd was full of Ignatius household staff and opulently seated guests, as well as a few men and women I recognized from the Banquet Hall. Fittingly enough, I spotted the unrepentant Jacoby Bowlingcock in the crowd, smiling at me ferociously. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

As it was, there were two cages made of decidedly thin steel bars that Urien and Bolskar were placed in at gun point. Urien had to be hit with the butt of a rifle, but he complied at my nod. The thugs escorted me to the center of the ring, and a small compartment on the dirt laden floor opened up and lifted a small rise. To my surprise, on the small top was a pallasch sword, the likes of which I had dueled Jacoby Bowlingcock with. The guard gestured I take it, and I did not see why not. As soon as my hand enclosed around the hilt, all guns were trained on me lest I try anything. I did not, and so as the moments passed, they retreated out of the ring and let me stand there with the sword in my hand, wondering what dread they had in store for me. I did not give them the satisfaction of fear, and instead saluted my two comrades with the blade. Behind me, I heard a small lift activating. 

I turned, and watched the entrance for whatever horror lay within. 

At first, there was no sight of the adversary. But instead, I found the darkness had begun to move. I blinked, only to realize the darkness had transformed into a humanoid shape, and it stepped out into the light in all of its xenos repugnance. Standing there was what could perhaps pass as a human were my eyesight poor. A very tall, lithe figure garbed in black, with a face of pure malice and knife ears protruding from its greasy locks of hair. It breathed in, and I could see fangs in its maw. I blinked again, and I found it had moved two meters to my right. That alone showed me the danger I was in. I recognized the monster from the holo-discs I had been forced to study in my days as an interrogator. 

An Aeldari, more specifically a Dark Eldar. Masters of torture. It waited patiently as a small opening appeared beside it as well, and up lifted a little top with it's own weapon. A serrated blade of black steel. I watched it close its hand around the hilt, and give a practice swing. I could barely see the movement, and I had focused on it with all my concentration. It turned to look at me, moving with a grace I could not hope to match in three hundred years. 

I was not going to make it out of this alive. And it would be slow.