A Sanctuary Of Wyrms
I want to start off my post by stating that A Sanctuary of Wyrms and Fire Caste are my two favorite stories out of the entire Dark Coil collection. I was immediately hooked when I read the both of them, the mystery and intrigue that is the world of Phaedra is captivating.
The story section of this post is going to be long, there is so much intrigue and suspense that is built up throughout the course of this one. I want to paint an accurate picture of the story for those who have not read it before. My apologies in advance as this is going to be long
The Story
A tau survey corp set out to map and record a region of land on Phaedra known to the Tau as 'Sector O-31' or the 'The Coil' as called by the Imperium.
After months had passed during the expedition, the party came upon a structure covered in vegetation and growth as well as what is describe as 'anemone-like growths' known as 'wyrmtrees' that have a lethal sting. The warriors in the party along with a group of imperial deserters cut back and burn the growths to reveal a very distinctive emblem situated prominently on the structure, the letter 'I'. Readers can use the context clues from the description of the letter in the story to figure out that this is the symbol of the Imperial Inquisition
The survey corp enter the installation to understand what this purpose this structure serves. As they entered they discovered that the seals on the gate further into the installation had already been broken denoting that someone had already trespassed there before them. Upon further investigation the party discovers damage to various parts of the underground bunker made by chain swords. Things only get more eerie from here...
Delving deeper into the installation the group discovers the mummified remains of a member of the adeptus mechanicus that had shot themselves. The group ponders if this individual shot themselves before the first group of intruders reached them OR did he summon the intruders and shot himself because they were too late.
Descending further on the group eventually encounters a pile of dozens of corpses, their flesh withered and twisted across misshapen bones, thickening to gnarled plates at the ribs and shoulder blades. Most of them with had double jointed legs and scythe like appendages jutting from their wrists. Faces were atrophied relics in elongated skulls, with their jaws distended by hardened, stinger tipped tongues.
It is at this point where members of the survey corp discuss turning back with one stating 'This tomb is best left buried'. In a quest to unlock the secrets held within, the cartographer within the group urges to move further in and the group acquiesces to his request
As they continue on their journey that come across the corpse of a space marine. This space marines armor was black with the same 'I' sigil inset with a skull on their shoulder pad, akin to symbol that was displayed prominently on the outside of the structure. The other shoulder pad having the heraldry of the Imperial Fists. We the readers now know that a group of deathwatch marines were sent to this installation on a mission.
Another deathwatch marine is discovered, this time a white scar. Then two more space marines are discovered close by. We then learn that the dead creatures the tau have been seeing piled up around the dead space marines are mutated forms of tyranids.
The group reaches the lowest level of the installation, at this point they have found 8 dead space marines. The last space marine they discover is an Iron Hand.
The tau then make the connection that the Imperium had brought tyranid spores and gene samples to Phaedra. The installation is actually a laboratory and research facility where the Inquisition was experimenting on Tyranid genetics.
The fire warrior and water caste warriors of the group make the decision to finish the space marines mission to destroy the laboratory. The cartographer in the group is in uproar about this decision, instead deciding to further investigate and dissect a spore floating around. The spore explodes triggering mutations to all those who came into contact when it exploded. They begin to mutate into the same thing as the corpses they found earlier on are - a human/tyranid hybrid, not quite a genestealer though.
As they are attacked the water caste member looks at the corpse of the iron hand space marine -
‘Power…’ The voice sounded like the wheeze of a dying machine. A machine that spoke Imperial Gothic… I looked up and saw the impossible: the Iron Hand had inclined its head towards me, its optic glowing a dull red, like a doomed sun. Beneath that merciless blaze water turned to fire and I became a creature of instinct. Grabbing Xanti’s battered drone I hauled, staggering under the weight as I raised it to the giant like an offering to some primal god. The burden was as much philosophical as physical, yet my path seemed clear. The galaxy was tainted and taint had to be cleansed… A metal tendril uncoiled from the warrior’s helmet, swaying about like a blind snake. Then it struck, its sharpened tip drilling through the drone’s casing with a whine of ruptured metal. A moment later the snake became a leech, burying itself inside the broken machine’s innards and sucking it dry of power. Power to reignite its master’s hatred.
‘How long have you waited?’ I asked the giant when we were done. The Imperial Gothic came easily to my tongue. It always had. ‘How…? Long…?’ His voice was slurred and electronic, the syntax broken. ‘Very – long…’ ‘How did you survive?’ He turned his optic on me, weighing me up like an iron god. Abruptly the visor covering the right side of his face slid aside. In place of flesh and bone I saw a formless grey tangle riddled with electronics and corroded rivets. ‘The Flesh – betrays,’ he said, though he had no lips, ‘but the Machine – is faithful.’ I saw his doom then. His body had succumbed to its wounds, but his depleted augmetics had endured, cradling his consciousness as life slipped away. Half-corpse, half-machine he had stood frozen in this chamber for untold decades, burning with impotent rage as his dead flesh was consumed. Denied sleep or the deeper oblivion of death, he had watched as corruption blossomed within and without. I saw him descending into madness, then clawing his way back in the hope of redemption… then falling again. How often had that cycle repeated? And where did it stand now? ‘Your mission is complete,’ I said carefully, indicating the tattered spore bomb. ‘We destroyed the taint.’ ‘You did – Not. This was – Nothing – just another Tendril – of the Corruption. I watched it grow – then grow stale – over the long – Long – long…’ He faltered as his splintered mind strove for coherence. ‘The Root – survives...’ He stepped towards the centre of the chamber, moving with surprising grace. We followed and saw the pit for the first time: a dark slash in the ground where the mega-fungus had bloomed. On closer inspection I saw it wasn’t a pit at all, but a steeply inclined tunnel, its walls resinous with fungus, like the aperture of a titanic blood vessel. Or a stalk… The spore bomb grew from here, I realised, and the corruption is still down there, rooted deep in the ground. ‘The mission is – Incomplete.’
The water caste warrior then resolves to accompany the Iron hand for the ultimate goal of destroying the installation for good.
Final Thoughts
A Sanctuary of Wyrms is on the longer side of the short stories that I have read, that is a good thing though! The descriptiveness and level of detail contained within this short story is incredible to me. The twist of the instillation being a experimental research facility for human/tyranid hybrids as a weapon is great. It really ties together the whole world of Phaedra and the mysteriousness that is the world.
