Alaric hung his head, feeling the psychic eye inside him blinking in the sudden light. He was glad that it had been shut while he was on Drakaasi. The underlying ugliness of the place might have been too much.
He thought about Haulvarn and Erkhar, and the Hathrans on the Hammer of Daemons. He thought about Raezazel, Ebondrake and Arguthrax. He saw Venalitor’s face as he fell, the expression turning to horror as he realised he had failed. Thinking about it, reliving it, would not change it.
He clasped his hands in front of him and began to pray.
“I am the Hammer,” he whispered. “I am the point of His spear, the mail about His fist…”
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[Grey Knights 03] - Hammer of Daemons Page 28
