Who knew how long the Unfleshed had lived beneath the surface of Medrengard or what their memories were of the time before their abduction and implantation within the horror of the daemonculaba?
But one thing was clear: of the innocent children who had been transformed into the Unfleshed, one memory had survived - constant and enduring: the immortal and beneficent Emperor of Mankind.
Through all the vileness that had befallen the Unfleshed, they still remembered the love of the Emperor and Uriel felt an immense sadness at their fate. No matter that they had been horrifically altered to become monsters, they still remembered the Emperor and fashioned his image to watch over them.
Uriel and the others were pushed roughly to the edge of the great pit as the Unfleshed painfully drew near. Uriel saw that there were hundreds of them - many unable to walk on their mutated legs, corkscrewed bones or fleshy masses that had once been limbs, and so were helped by their brethren.
'God-Emperor, look at them!' said Vaanes. 'How can such things be allowed to live?'
'Shut up, Vaanes,' said Uriel sadly. 'They are kin to you and I, do not forget that. The flesh of the Emperor is within them.'
'You can't be serious,' said Vaanes. 'Look at them. They're evil.'
'Are they? I'm not so sure.'
A ripple of hunger and self-loathing went round the pit as the Lord of the Unfleshed turned and drew himself up to his full height. He reached back and pulled Uriel forwards, lifting him easily from the ground. Powerless to resist, Uriel felt the ground beneath him fall away as he was dangled over the bottomless pit.
'Smelled mother's meat on you,' roared the Lord of the Unfleshed. 'You washed out from mountain of iron men, fell from the Wall. But you not look like us. Why you have skin?'
Uriel's mind raced as he tried to guess what response would not see him cast into the pit. The yellowed eyes of the monster bored into his and Uriel saw a desperate longing within them, a childlike need for… for what?
'Yes!' he yelled. 'We came from the mountain of the Iron Warriors, but we are their enemies.'
'You are Unwanted too? Not friends with iron men?'
'No!' cried Uriel, shouting so that the Unfleshed around the pit could hear him. 'We hate the iron men, came to destroy them!'
'Saw you before,' snarled the Lord of the Unfleshed. 'Saw you kill iron men in mountains. We took much meat then.'
'I know. I saw.'
'You kill iron men?'
'Yes!'
'Mother's meat on you, yes?'
Uriel nodded as the creature spoke again. 'Iron men's flesh mothers made us ugly like this, but Emperor not hate us like iron men, he still love us. Iron men try to kill us. But we strong and not die, though dying be good thing for us. Pain stop, Emperor make pain go away and make us whole again.'
'No,' said Uriel, finally understanding a measure of this creature that, for all its massive strength and colossal size, was but a child within its monstrously swollen skull. It spoke with a child's simplicity and clarity of the Emperor's love, and as Uriel looked into its eyes, he saw its deathly craving to atone for its hideousness.
'The Emperor loves you,' he said. 'He loves all his children.'
'Emperor speaks to you?' said the Lord of the Unfleshed.
'He does,' agreed Uriel, hating himself for such deception, but understanding its necessity. 'The Emperor sent us here to destroy the iron men and the dae… the flesh mothers that made you like this. He sent us to you so that you might help us.'
The creature pulled him close and Uriel could sense its suspicion and hunger warring with a deep-seated desire to take revenge on its creators, those that had made it into this warped form.
It smelled him once more and Uriel just hoped that the stench of the daemonculaba that had stayed its hand at the outflow pool was still strong on him.
But the Lord of the Unfleshed roared in anguish, drawing back his arm, and Uriel cried out as he was hurled out across the pit.
Uriel sailed through the air, his vision spiralling in a kaleidoscope of images: warped beasts that had once been children, a rusted iron chain, silvered panels of beaten metal and the black, depthless void of the pit. He slammed into the hanging effigy of the Emperor and the breath was knocked from him by the impact.
He snatched at the metal, scrabbling for a handhold, feeling his ragged fingernails break off on rivets as he slid down the rough iron. The black hole of the pit yawned before him, promising death, but his fingers closed on a panel of beaten iron, not quite flush with the giant statue's body. Portions of its edges were sharp and he felt the tip of his middle finger slice off on the jagged metal. The panel bent and screeched, peeling away from the statue's body, but it slowed his descent enough for him to be able to secure a handhold on the bronze eagle on the Emperor's breastplate.
Uriel hung over the great depths of the pit, holding on for dear life with one hand, swinging above the darkness of the pit as the Unfleshed roared and - those that were able - stamped their feet, shouting, 'Tribe! Tribe! Tribe!'
Now that he had a better grip on the statue, Uriel pulled himself up the strips of metal that formed the eagle and swung himself onto the Emperor's shoulder guards, his breath coming in great gasps.
The Lord of the Unfleshed stood immobile at the edge of the pit, and Uriel had no idea what to do next. He watched as the Unfleshed took hold of the remains of the warrior band, dragging Pasanius, Vaanes, Leonid and the other Space Marines to the edge of the pit.
'No!' he shouted, risking standing upright and leaning on the swaying statue's giant helm. 'No!'
Then the miracle happened.
Whether it was some long-dormant mechanism within the battered machine forming the statue's helmet - given a brief resurgence of life by Uriel's movement - or the power of the Emperor himself, Uriel would never know, but at that moment, a radiant light burst from the crudely-formed visor.
A bass hum, like a charging generator, built from beneath the helmet and the Unfleshed drew back in terror from the great effigy as the glow intensified. Uriel felt the metal of the helmet grow hot to the touch and though he had no idea as to what was happening, was not about to let such a chance go by.
He shouted over to the Lord of the Unfleshed. 'See! The Emperor wants you to help us! Together we can destroy the flesh mothers and the iron men!'
The great beast dropped to its knees, its wide jaws open in rapture as a terrible moaning and wailing built from the throats of the Unfleshed gathered around the pit.
Hot sparks leapt from the metal of the helmet and Uriel realised he was going to have get off the statue soon or risk being electrocuted by whatever was doing this. He edged along the Emperor's shoulder guards, begging the Master of Mankind's forgiveness for such base treatment of his image as he worked his way over to the nearest of the supporting chains.
No sooner had he clambered onto the chain, lying across its thick links and pulling himself away from the helmet - which now shone with a fierce, blinding glow j7 when a great thunderclap boomed and it exploded in an arcing shower of blue lightning.
The Unfleshed wailed in fear as the statue of the Emperor plummeted into the darkness of the pit, the chains supporting it flopping with a great clang against its sheer sides. Uriel swung on the chain, bracing his legs for impact against the side of the pit and feeling the ceramite plates of his armour buckle with the force of it.
Uriel spun crazily above the depthless chasm, knuckles white as he held onto the flaking links of the chain.
He hung there until he had got his breath back and carefully began the long climb to the top.
As he climbed he suddenly felt the chain being pulled from above. Able to do nothing else, Uriel awaited whatever fate had in store for him. He looked up in time to see the massive, raw hand of the Lord of the Unfleshed reach down and lift him from the chain.