THE REVENANT HOST

 

 

Extract from the private journal of Rogue Trader Lord-Captain Lucian Josephus Vale XVIII, Warrant of Trade Imperator's Mercy.

 

 

I have seen the dead walk.

 

Not the shambling corpses of plague worlds, nor the witch-spawned things that crawl from the Warp. I have seen those thrice cursed horrors often enough that they no longer surprise me.

 

These were different.

 

They came without warning.

 

We had been fighting on the surface of Karthax IXa for thirteen days when the Kroot mercenaries of the traitorous House Breckenridge broke through our eastern defenses at Port Caedus. My armsmen were exhausted, my enginseers were dead, and I had already begun calculating how much of my newly discovered Aeldari weapon cache I would be able to salvage before abandoning the planet.

 

Then they appeared.

 

At first I thought them a miracle. Prayers to the God-Emperor answered.

 

Ornate armor. Guardian spears. The unmistakable stature of the Emperor's companions.

 

Then I realized I could see the battlefield through them.

 

They were pale things, their armor faded almost to grey, their forms surrounded by a cold, green spectral light. They made no sound. They did not acknowledge our soldiers.

 

They simply advanced.

 

The Kroot broke and ran.

 

I cannot blame them.

 

The strangers passed through our lines and fell upon the enemy with a precision I have never witnessed. They fought without hesitation and without fear. They did not retreat. They did not celebrate. They did not even seem to understand that we were there.

 

They fought as though they were remembering a battle rather than fighting one.

 

Then, after perhaps an hour, they vanished.

 

No withdrawal.

 

No teleportation.

 

One moment they were there.

 

The next, there was nothing.

 

I have since spoken with three Navy officers at Port Wander who witnessed the same phenomenon on other worlds. Their accounts agree on the essential details.

 

The warriors are always Custodes.

 

They always appear near sites associated with ancient Webway passages.

 

And they always disappear.

 

We have begun calling them the Revenant Host.

 

I do not know what they are.

 

I do not know whether they are spirits, weapons, memories, or some fragment of the Emperor's will given form.

 

I know only this:

 

When the Revenant Host appears, something has gone terribly wrong.

 

And when they leave, whatever stood against the Emperor has usually ceased to exist.

 

There is one final detail I have never recorded in an official report.

 

The first time I saw them, one of their number stopped before me.

 

He looked directly into my eyes.

 

For a moment, I thought he recognized me.

 

Then he spoke.

 

His voice was barely a whisper,

"We failed Him."

 

He raised his spear.

 

And disappeared with the others.

 

I have spent twenty-three years trying to determine what he meant.

 

I am beginning to suspect they have been trying to remember.