We stand face to face, abomination to abomination. The world around me is in flux, an intermediate form required while the laws of nature bend subservient to the heretics collective will, before they can complete the change. Wind roars and screams and whispers, light blends with sound and matter becomes flesh.

The creature before me laughs and cries, he pleads “you needn’t do this! You could join us in bliss, we could be eternal!� it gestures down an ally where a trio of children huddle, their dragged out by his will, suspended by ankles and bleeding eyes and finger tips they crack and twist together, hands become feet and wretched faces smooth out, a dress of the lightest materials is spun out of hair. “It’s really her! she has all her memories, she will serve you forever, do anything you want…� At his wave she walks forward, the motion is perfect, every detail of her flesh like I remembered down to the lop sided grin. She stands to close and whispers in my ear with a voice like honeyed silk, she tells me my deepest darkest desire, my quietest truths. We embrace and I return the favour; in hushed tones I tell her I’m sorry.

As I remove the limiter halo the heretics already scream and shout at me, the homunculus of flesh before me busts apart, the skin peels back and the children’s true form is reasserted though the transformation killed them moments before and their bodies lay mangled and mashed together.

“Abomination! Soulless! Untouchable! Your fellow humans will thank me for ridding the universe of you, there is no place for you in their world or ours…� Blue fire bursts from its hands, rips across the plaza and splits around me about two meters from my feet, within my sphere of influence the organic flesh of the daemon city writhes and cracks, juddering and changing back into cobble stones.

Arch-heretic Malthus screamed in terror at my approach “don’t touch me!� he stepped back and with a thought feathered wings bust from his hide and leapt up into the sky. The daemon-man who had once been the tech-magus came up behind me, his bulky, hydraulic body transformed into a graceful creation of shinning gold and silver, a perfect statue of androgynous beauty, he moved like quicksilver, slipping under me and darting to one side avoiding my grapple, his sword cut deep into my flank before its blade began to turn to dust. He jumped back and remade his hands into whips of metal with barbed ends, he doesn’t understand that he should be running from me, that he cant touch me, he’s been so restricted by his body of metal and ancient failing flesh for so long he’s drunk on power. The whip catches around my throat with ease, its cutting edges drawing enough blood to soak my shirt before they burn away, I run at him catching him off guard pushing his quasi-real flesh to the ground I pushed my fingers through his eyes to the brain, the seat of the soul, and focused.

Crowds make me feel distant and inhuman, people don’t like to touch me, they say I feel cold. The massive soul fuelled magic burning in this place drove away any feeling I had ever had; touching this mans soul with my bare hands was destroying everything that made me a person.

The soul squirmed and rolled, slippery and desperate. I closed my fist around it and pulled it out of the man’s body, taking the bridge of his nose and cartilage with it. The warp light stained it red and smoky, like a worm it turned in my iron grip. It was so warm, so human, holding it so easy I let out a laugh, a thought occurred to me, a terrible, wonderful thought.

Just outside my sphere of anti-magic homunculi raged ineptly, I revelled in the moment, the perfect indestructibility of this moment, I pulled it close and tasted the soul, allowed my tongue to travel its length, the urge was so overwhelming, the remnant of the tech-magus cried piteously.

Slowly, gloriously I drank his soul.

Warmth when you never knew you were cold. It filled me for a moment, and I knew I was addicted. I breathed his essence deep into my lungs and tasted his memories, my aura expanded in power and size, I reached out with it and grabbed another heretic and watched him rip himself apart, unable to maintain his false form.

Some forbidden law was broken, and I knew I would never be truly human again.

The arch heretic had seen this, and looked upon me from his high perch with a familiar hatred, that so many had tried to hide, he could never read my thoughts with his powers but for now he didn’t need to, his soul was the focus transforming this world from holy city world of the Imperium to Foul daemon world, he and his followers were going to kill billions for their little slice of bliss, if he died there was a chance, a slim chance I could bring back my friends, he had abused and betrayed me personally before his plans had been unleashed and now?

Now I wanted to eat his soul.