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the Spatian Gate itself； right above us； and began tumbling down； end over end。
In the face of this calamitous accident； the soldiers in the Triumph were scattering in all directions。 I dragged Madorthene back in
under the arch as shattered chunks of the stricken aircraft avalanched down。
A catastrophe。 A terrible； terrible catastrophe。
And it was just beginning。
SIX
DOOM COMES TO THRACIAN。
CHAOS UNSLIPPED。
HEADSHOT。
EVEN AT THAT stage； gripped by horror and outrage； I knew that a great hollow part of me deep in my soul could not； would not
believe that this had simply been a tragic accident。
There were fire and explosions all around； mass panic； screaming。
And another sound。 An extraordinary low moaning； a swelling； surging susurration that I realised was the sound two billion people
make when they are panicking and in fear for their lives。
The crowds had spilled over onto the Avenue； quite beyond the measure of the arbites to contain them； fleeing both the dreadful crash
sites and the fires； and also the imagined risk that to stand still somehow invited more Imperial warcraft to fall upon their heads。
The crowd moved as one； a fluid thing； like water。 There was no decision making process； no ringleader。 Mass instinct simply
compelled the people who swamped the vast street； in awful； trampling tides； overwhelming the ranks of the Triumph； much of which
was already breaking up in shocked dismay。 There was no sound of music any more； no cheering； no drums or sirens。 Just a braying
insanity； a world turned on its head。
I saw people die in their hundreds； trampled underfoot or crushed in the sheer press of bodies。 In some cases； the dead were so
squeezed by their neighbours； they were carried along for many metres before being freed to slither to the ground。
I saw troopers from the retinues； and arbites； firing into the crowd in terror before they were run down。 Barricades collapsed。
Standards swayed and toppled。 Walkways over the drain canals alongside the Avenue cracked and fell in； spilling hundreds down into
the rockcrete trenches。
I'd lost sight of Madorthene in the pandemonium。 I tried to push out from the arch into the sunlight； but fleeing bodies slammed into
me。 The entire approach to the Spatian Gate was a mass of twisted wreckage and fire from the impact high above。 Several dozen
guardsmen lay twisted and dead amid the wreckage； killed by falling metal and stone； their dress uniforms dusted white with
powdered aethercite or scorched by fire。
Through the sea of screaming humanity； I could see several of the massive aurochotheres stampeding out of control； rearing up；
shaking their riders from their backs； trampling into the multitude。 Lifeless bodies were tossed high into the air by their swishing tails。
I managed to slide along the outer edge of the gate until I could look north； towards the distant Monument of the Ecclesiarch。 Right
along the wide Avenue； the scene was repeated。 The procession of the Triumph was overrun by the sheer numbers of the terrified
public。
There was fire too； great plumes of it； rising from the crowd spaces on either side of the road in three places and on the Avenue of the
Victor Bellum itself； about seven hundred metres beyond the Gate。 It also seemed to me that fire also rose from other open areas
beyond the next spire； off the roadway into the artisans' quarter。 By my estimation； at least five more of the stricken Lightnings had
fallen from the sky； ripping into the mass of the citizenry teeming in panic on the Avenue。
Soot and ash fogged the air。 Distantly； above the milling nightmare of bodies； I could see the vast shapes of the Titans； turning on their
metal hips； hesitant； as if utterly confused。
I doubt I saw the other Lightnings before anyone else。 But I was transfixed。 They were all I could see。 There were four more of them；
presumably the only survivors of the disastrous flyby。 They had turned； and were sweeping back down the Avenue。 Their formation
was nothing like as precise or pretty as it had been just before the accident。
But they were much lower。 And much faster。
And I knew what that meant； for I had seen it before。
An attack run。
Emperor spare me； my heart almost stopped as I saw the insane intention taking shape before me。
I screamed out something； but it was futile。 One voice against two billion。
Streams of tracer rounds spat from the heavy cannons under their noses。 Wing…mounted lascannons sparkled soundlessly。
Two went low over the crowd； slaughtering thousands。 The other two followed the Avenue itself； raking the Great Triumph。
The destruction was extraordinary； as if invisible； white…hot ploughs had been set into the sea of bodies； slicing long； straight；
explosive furrows out of the Imperial citizenry below。 Or as if some fast…moving； burrowing force was scattering them from below。
Stippled lines of explosions sawed through the populace； casting up both human and mechanical wreckage。 There was an actual fog of
liquefied tissue in the air。 I saw tanks struck on the highway； detonating in the mob。 Hundreds of Guarsdmen and Space Marines in the
rained cavalcade opened fire into the air； chasing the planes； churning the sky with bright； criss…crossed lines。
A Lightning swept by almost overhead； cutting to the left of the Spatian Gate。 Its strafing firepower explosively mangled hundreds of
people perilously close to me； showering me and the white stone of the Gate's side face with cooked blood。
Hundreds of batteries in the procession were now firing into the sky； the Hydras blitzing the air。 Even tanks were firing … out of anger；
I suppose； for they hadn't a hope in hell of hitting the fast…moving aircraft。
Yet something must have struck。 A second Lightning tilted as it passed over the Gate； tiny explosions shredding its left wing and tail
section。 It dove straight down into the Avenue itself。 It hit what seemed to me to be the heart of the Warmaster's section of the
Triumph。 The blast wake blew out across the wide roadway； killing as many with its concussive effects as with the impact fireball
itself。
The three remaining Lightnings banked again down over the far end of the Avenue and made for a third pass。 I was struck by the way
they didn't turn as a pack。 They flew individually； as if divorced from the world。 Were their pilots possessed； insane？ My mind span。
Two of them banked into each other and almost hit。 One didn't veer； and carried on up the Avenue； hungry for more carnage。 The
other was forced to swing wide； corrected； and turned over the wailing crowd mass to the west of the Avenue。
The third overshot and almost disappeared。 I saw it loop faraway； out over the river haze； its wings glinting in the sun。 Then it too
came back for us。 Like the others； straight back heedlessly into the teeth of the firestorms that the tanks； Hydras and infantry were
throwing up at them。
Several hundreds more died in that final ran。 Loyal citizens whose exciting day out had turned to horror； proud Guardsmen back from
the war； thinking only to enjoy this special hour of praise； mysterious Space Marines； who were there only because they had been
invited to be there； as an expression of honour； who perhaps greeted this death as just an alternative to their expected fate。 Imperial
nobles and dignitaries died in their hundreds。 Several noble households never recovered from the losses at the Triumph of Thracian。
The last three Lightnings fell in this manner。
One； crossing the Spatian Gate and beyond； was blown apart in an air…burst by tracking Hydras on the chaotic street。
A second flew the gauntlet of anti…air salvos without adjusting its height and then； struck by one of the guns almost as an afterthought；
turned upside down in a lazy yaw。 Streaming smoke； it tilted down towards the ground but exploded against the Monument of the
Ecclesiarch。
The third came in； guns chattering； and actually flew under the arch of the Spatian Gate。 By then； the Titans themselves had turned to
engage； and my guts convulsed with the subsonic roar of their weapons。 I could see them； three kilometres away； weapon mounts
pumping and flashing； high above the crowd。
Excekis Gaude； one of the Warlord Titans； caught it dead on； and kill