NOVEL WEB Chapter 216: Chapter 216 : "Vultaria Magna IX - In Fire and Blood"
Vultaria Magna IX - In Fire and Blood
After executing Saraphina-the mother of the two little girls-Sa'kan began his search across the broken plains of Vultaria Magna IX. With a detachment of the Salamander Legion at his side, he swept through the smoldering ruins of what was once a thriving world, now twisted into a playground of biotechnological horror.
One by one, the victims of Zeraphari experimentation-humans whose forms had been mutilated beyond recognition-fell beneath the teeth of Sa'kan's roaring chainsword. Their corrupted bodies, twisted into grotesque weapons of war, stood no chance against the fury of the Emperor's chosen.
As he walked the fog-laced corridors littered with the remnants of slaughter, Sa'kan whispered a prayer-not loud, but resolute and burning with conviction:
Sa'kan
> "O Master of Mankind...
Grant me speed to strike down the defiled, and guide this blade in the fury of Your holy wrath.
Let this weapon be Your vengeance, and this search a path lit by Your will.
For the sake of the two daughters of Noctara, lead my steps-that I may fulfill this task by Your command.
I ask not for forgiveness. Only the strength... to see it done."
His grip on the chainsword tightened, the weapon growling each time it met the flesh of Zeraphari abominations. Behind the unflinching visor of his helm, his face remained a mask of silence. But in his thoughts, one thing echoed louder than the roar of war:
The promise.
The promise he made on Noctara.
---
Flashback - Planet Noctara
The little girl looked up with hesitation, her wide eyes filled with fear. Her tiny hand lifted a green Space Marine plushie-as if offering a peace treaty to the armored giant standing before her.
Alina
> "Who... are you?"
Sa'kan
> (smiling faintly behind his helmet)
"My little sister used to say I looked just like her. But I wasn't this green."
Beside her, the twin sister took a shaky breath.
Elina
> "But... we're scared..."
Her small voice trembled. Slowly, she crawled into Sa'kan's arms, as if finding refuge in a mythic titan from her storybooks.
Sa'kan
> "Don't be afraid. They won't come back. You will live... to grow old. We swear it."
He knelt down and gently touched their heads.
Sa'kan
> "Hold tight to your Space Marine doll. I'll be with you. And everything will be alright."
---
Back on Vultaria Magna IX
That memory flared in Sa'kan's mind like an old scar that never closed. He renewed his resolve, raising his voice into the dust-choked sky:
Sa'kan
> "By the Holy Flame and the Will of the Master of Mankind, I swear: no harm shall come to them.
As long as there is breath in me, the daughters of Noctara shall never know fear."
With a righteous roar, he struck down the last enemy in his path with his power fist. The alien's body exploded in a torrent of greenish blood.
And in the middle of the chaos...
He saw it.
A Zeraphari trooper-standing amidst rubble and flame-opened fire on fleeing civilians with a heavy machine gun. But what made Sa'kan's blood boil...
Were the two blood-stained green plushies dangling from the creature's belt.
Those dolls.
The same ones carried by Alina and Elina.
The lenses of Sa'kan's helm blazed crimson. There was no strategy. No plan. Only one thing remained:
Sa'kan
> "AAAAAAAAAAAAAALIEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNN!!!!! THOSE DOLLS!!!"
The roar split the air. The ground itself trembled. The Salamander Legion behind him could do nothing but watch as Sa'kan became a storm.
He charged without hesitation. Each step etched righteous fury into the earth. Bullets tore into his armor-but nothing could slow him.
When he reached the Zeraphari, Sa'kan seized the creature, tore off his own helmet, and-
Bit into its head.
With teeth and wrath, he ripped the alien's skull apart in a spray of gore.
For the first time, Sa'kan was truly angry.
And at last, he understood what that meant. This... was rage.
Memories and thoughts surged through his mind. In the chaos and bloodshed, he clung to one fragile truth: the girls were still alive.
But when he pulled up the strategic map, hope was tested again.
They were far-deep behind enemy lines. Surrounded. Hunted. Endangered.
Sa'kan had never felt such fury.
Not even during the Pariah Crusade on Paradyce III-in the midst of genocide and cataclysm-had he lost his composure. Back then, he remained steadfast, a stone forged in Vulkan's fire.
But this time...
This time was different.
---
Author's Note:
This is my personal interpretation of Sa'kan. I truly admire his character in the animated version, and I admit that some elements here may not fully align with the official canon. Even so, I felt compelled to include him in this story, as his presence left a deep and lasting impression on me.

Sa'kan - A Space Marine of the XVIII Legion, Salamanders
Sa'kan is one of the central protagonists of Pariah Nexus, an animated series set in the Warhammer 40,000 universe, and its sequel, The Tithes. An Astartes of the Imperium of Man, he hails from the XVIII Legion-Salamanders-renowned for their compassion, their unwavering protection of civilians, and their uncompromising courage in the face of darkness.
Originally dispatched to aid the Ultramarines in their war against the Necrons on the planet Paradyce, Sa'kan's ship was destroyed upon atmospheric entry, leaving him the sole survivor of his unit. The world he found beneath was silent, desolate, seemingly lifeless-perhaps forever. Yet amid the ruins and the lingering shadows of death, Sa'kan discovered survivors-civilians who had escaped the Necron massacre. Beyond his military directives, he took it upon himself to protect them with every breath he had left.
He stood with them until the end-losing an arm in the process and witnessing the death of his ally, Sister Danica of the Adepta Sororitas. His belief that the refugees had managed to escape to safety became a driving force in his life-tragically, unbeknownst to him, those same civilians were executed by the Astra Militarum, mistakenly identified as reanimated husks corrupted by Necron technology.
Return in The Tithes
Sa'kan returns in The Tithes, this time as a primary figure alongside Chaplain Brutus of the Ultramarines. Their mission: recover the gene-seed of fallen Ultramarines before it could be defiled or destroyed by enemy hands.
Though Brutus initially doubted Sa'kan due to their different Chapters, respect began to grow between them. In the end, Brutus sacrificed himself to allow Sa'kan to escape with the gene-seed-an act of trust and honor from an Ultramarine to a Salamander, rare and deeply meaningful.
Sa'kan: Compassion Amid the Darkness
In the grimdark of Warhammer 40,000-a galaxy where true kindness is almost extinct-the Salamanders are a rare exception. They are a symbol of enduring courage and compassion in a universe ruled by violence. Sa'kan, in particular, embodies these virtues. He dedicates himself to the protection of the innocent, no matter the cost.
Though he appears terrifying-like a god of war clad in flame and fury-Sa'kan does not reject his humanity. In fact, he embraces it. He speaks gently, especially to children, and treats the weak with honor and understanding.
Yet that gentle nature gives way to brutal efficiency when the situation demands. When Sister Danica once suggested executing civilians out of suspicion, Sa'kan not only persuaded her to stand down-he silently prepared to take decisive action if she didn't. He proved that compassion is not weakness, but strength-disciplined, resolute, and armed with fire.
Sa'kan is more than a Space Marine. He is a paradox made flesh-genetically engineered for destruction, yet willing to risk his life to save a single child. In a universe of unending darkness, he burns-an eternal flame in the heart of midnight.
----
Vultaria Magna IX - The Last Barricade
Time was running out. Sa'kan didn't have the luxury of hesitation. Without pause, he sprinted toward the last coordinates seared into his memory-the place where the two little girls might still be holding on to life.
But his path was cut off.
Blocking the way stood a Zaraphari warrior, clad in layers of living organic armor, a humming plasma weapon in hand, glowing ominously.
Zaraphari Soldier
"Human! Don't even think you'll make it past us!"
He wasn't alone.
Behind him, a massed legion of mercenaries-snarling GloryPork brutes, Formicari pirate swarms, and towering two-story bipedal mechs-formed a living barricade. Their formation shook the earth with each synchronized step, an iron wall of defiance.
Sa'kan froze.
The edge in his gaze, usually honed to a razor's intensity, dulled for a heartbeat-his face carved with fury... and something rare in an Astartes: worry. His hearts pounded, not from fear-but from the crushing weight of duty.
And then-a voice.
Heavy. Familiar.
From the haze of war, it boomed like a war drum echoing through a cathedral of ash.
Decayor Malbrak - Space Marine of the Death Guard Legion
"Sa'kan!"
Out of the war-smoke, Decayor Malbrak emerged-flanked by two dozen Death Guard warriors and a dozen Salamanders. Their presence stilled the battlefield for a moment, like the planet itself was holding its breath.
Decayor Malbrak
"Brother Sa'kan, leave this to me! Death Guard, with me! Let's rip these alien bastards apart!"
He marched forward, his blood-caked chainsword in one hand, bolter gripped in the other. His scarred face-weathered by centuries of war and fire-remained resolute.
Decayor Malbrak
"You have a more vital mission, Sa'kan. Go!"
He didn't wait for an answer.
With a war cry, he charged into the enemy lines.
The enemy responded. The alien horde surged like a flood of claws and steel, and the battlefield exploded into chaos.
From behind, one of the Salamanders called out-
Salamander Space Marine 09
"Brother Sa'kan! Leave this front to us-Salamanders and Death Guard will hold the line!"
The roar of war intensified. Heavy weapons fire lit the sky, raining down destruction upon the GloryPork and Formicari forces. The ground shuddered under the ferocity of the clash.
Zaraphari Soldier
"I am a veteran of a hundred wars, human! I-"
He never finished.
The mechanical scream of a Salamander's chainsword interrupted him-C-CHAK!-as it carved through his torso mid-sentence.
Decayor Malbrak showed no mercy. With brutal precision, he lunged at a towering bipedal mech, slicing through its legs with one clean strike. He lifted its collapsing wreckage and hurled it into the enemy ranks like a battering ram, crushing scores beneath its bulk.
Sa'kan clenched his fist.
He glanced back at Malbrak.
Sa'kan
"Understood, Brother Decayor Malbrak."
And then-without looking back-he activated the charge boosters on his armor.
He fired no shots. He gave no warnings.
Like a comet forged of purpose and vengeance, he rammed into the alien ranks. Flesh and steel were flung aside in every direction. There was no time for duels. No time for hesitation.
Decayor Malbrak
"FOR THE EMPEROR!!!"
With a roar that shook the atmosphere, Decayor Malbrak danced upon the battlefield. Every swing of his chainblade brought death, every blast from his bolter wrought devastation. He fought with a mastery born from millennia of war, a force of nature clad in rot and iron.
Each explosion from his bolter shredded enemy ranks like thermal grenades detonating in their midst. Every slash of his chainblade tore through flesh, steel, and bone without mercy. Dozens of GloryPork mercenaries and Formicari pirates fell one after another. Alien blood soaked the earth beneath their boots.
Elsewhere, Sa'kan charged through the ruins, following the memories that had haunted him. He slammed through debris like a living tank, using his enhanced frame to clear a path with sheer brute force.
And then he saw it.
In the dim glow of fractured light, a massive Zaraphari stood tall-nearly five meters of muscle and alien armor. Cradled in its grotesque arms were two small bodies, limp and unmoving. Like trophies.
Alina and Elina.
Sa'kan's eyes went wide. Emotion detonated inside him like a core breach.
Sa'kan
"YOU ALIEN BASTARDS!!! GIVE THEM TO ME!!! PUT THEM DOWN!!!"
His voice crashed across the battlefield like thunder. Without hesitation, he became a storm of steel and vengeance, charging headlong toward the abomination.
Before the Zaraphari could react, Sa'kan drew his combat knife-a gift from Kort, forged with honor and steeped in meaning. In a single brutal motion, he decapitated the creature-not once, but twice. The beast had two heads. Now it had none.
Zaraphari Warrior
"RAAAUUUGGHHHHH!!!"
The death cry rang out, loud but utterly meaningless.
This wasn't just any creature. It was a Behemoth-one of the most sought-after bio-engineered war beasts in the Central Rings. Capable of crushing armored transports with a single strike, its muscle fibers laced with synthetic bio-tech. But none of that mattered.
Not in the face of a Space Marine's wrath.
With a guttural roar, Sa'kan plunged his gauntleted hand into the Behemoth's neck, tearing through reinforced bone, ripping out the creature's central nervous system with savage force. Blood and viscera sprayed across his armor, but he didn't flinch.
There was only one purpose.
With gore still dripping from him, Sa'kan rushed toward the two little girls-Alina and Elina. He knelt down beside them.
Alina's arm was shredded open-torn muscle, fractured bone. Elina's leg was darkening with deep tissue necrosis, the infection likely already in her bloodstream.
Sa'kan wrapped them in his arms gently-so gently it belied the brutality he'd just unleashed. Then, he picked up their green Space Marine dolls and tucked them into their arms.
Sa'kan
"The wounds are too deep... The infection's already spreading. There's no hope for medicae intervention..."
His voice was soft-nearly void of emotion. But only because the pain had already hollowed him out.
Sa'kan
"The only thing I can do now... is give them peace. So they don't suffer any longer."
He cursed himself.
He had failed. His promise to protect them turned to ash on this broken battlefield.
With that cold realization, Sa'kan lifted his bolter. He pressed the barrel against his own forehead, staring blankly up at the smoke-choked sky.
Sa'kan
"Emperor of Mankind... I have failed.
I ask not for mercy.
I only beg for one chance.
To atone.
To make it right.
To burn this guilt away... in the wars to come."
----
Author's Note
The Act of Placing a Bolter to One's Forehead (Suicide)
Suicide among Space Marines is extremely rare and widely regarded as dishonorable across many Chapters - the Salamanders included.
So please, do not follow my example in this regard. I honestly struggled to portray Sa'kan's emotional turmoil in the event of failure, and I resorted to borrowing from the kind of dramatic scenes often found in movies.
The Salamanders, in particular, are guided by a strong moral compass and a deep respect for life. They believe redemption must be earned through action, not through self-inflicted death.
In extreme cases, they may seek atonement through penitence missions, or request to be made into servitors or martyrs - but seldom, if ever, would they choose to end their own lives.
---
Decayor Malbrak
"Sa'kan! What in the Emperor's name are you doing?!"
The deep, thunderous voice echoed through the shattered ruins. Malbrak's blood-soaked figure stood tall in the doorway, his armor still steaming from the slaughter outside. What he found now was far worse: Sa'kan, a bolter pressed against his own head, standing in the heart of the ruin.
Sa'kan
"Give them... time, brother."
His voice was quiet, but carried the weight of a thousand battles. In Sa'kan's eyes burned a silence more deadly than any war.
Decayor Malbrak
"By the Emperor's blood... What kind of heresy is this?! Those wounds aren't the end of everything!"
Without hesitation, Malbrak stepped forward, yanked the bolter from Sa'kan's hand, and hoisted the massive Space Marine onto his shoulder like a wounded comrade. In his other arm, he gently cradled the limp forms of Alina and Elina.
Decayor Malbrak (through vox)
"Apothecary Reko'van Draas, report your position. I need immediate medical support."
Reko'van Draas (vox, flat and clinical)
"Has an Astartes fallen? If so, the gene-seed must be secured. I'm en route."
Decayor Malbrak
"Negative. No fallen Astartes. This is... different. The wounded aren't Space Marines. Have you ever treated unaugmented humans?"
A pause filled the channel.
Reko'van Draas
"...Humans? Not our duty. But technically... yes. Though I've never tried it."
Decayor Malbrak
"Then try now. Two human children. One has a deep laceration on the arm, exposed muscle, cracked bone. The other has a leg showing signs of necrosis. I need to know if there's a chance."
Reko'van Draas
"Send them to my coordinates. I'm monitoring organic anomalies and potential mutations, but there's time."
Decayor Malbrak
"Confirmed. They're on their way."
He shut off the vox. Standing amidst broken stone, dried blood, and the smoldering remains of war, Malbrak gazed down at the fragile forms in his arms. His eyes were cold, but his voice steady with resolve.
Decayor Malbrak
"Sa'kan, I'll take them to Draas. If there's even a sliver of hope... he'll find it."
He turned to leave, then paused. His voice softened-not in volume, but in humanity.
Decayor Malbrak (continued)
"And... you still owe me. The ceremonial dagger. Pure gold. Forged beneath the nameless mountain. You know what I mean. I'll collect... when the time comes."
Sa'kan looked up. His face barely moved-just the faintest curl of his lip-but for Malbrak, that was enough. A silent promise. A wordless thank you.
He knew... these girls would never be safe.
The Imperium was no sanctuary for children rescued by Space Marines.
The Adeptus Mechanicus would want to dissect their neural patterns.
The Inquisition would demand to know why they survived.
The Ecclesiarchy-and the Adepta Sororitas-might see them as signs... or threats.
But Sa'kan had already made his choice.
If these girls had no family left-then he would be their shield.
Their protector.
Their brother.
----

The Apothecary of the Adeptus Astartes
An Apothecary is a medical officer of the Adeptus Astartes-both Firstborn and Primaris-trained extensively in biomedical sciences. They serve as battlefield medics, genetic custodians, and combat surgeons for their Chapter. On the frontlines, their primary role is to tend to the wounded and, most critically, to recover the gene-seed from fallen Space Marines.
Outside of battle, Apothecaries oversee the physical health and genetic stability of the Chapter's neophytes. They are responsible for implanting the organs that transform a human recruit into a Space Marine, constantly screening for mutations or deficiencies in the gene-seed. Their expertise extends to emergency field medicine, advanced surgery, cybernetics, and biotechnology.
Apothecaries must exhibit the same, if not greater, courage as their battle-brothers. They conduct life-saving operations amid heavy fire using a device known as the Narthecium-a multifunctional medi-tool capable of stabilizing grievous injuries, cauterizing wounds, removing shrapnel, and performing intricate surgical procedures. Severely injured Space Marines often return to battle thanks to the Narthecium.
While Chaplains safeguard the spiritual well-being of the Chapter, Apothecaries preserve its physical integrity. Though Astartes possess organs that can recover from wounds lethal to unaugmented humans, healing takes time-something not afforded during intense firefights. The Apothecary bridges this gap, keeping mortally wounded warriors alive long enough to continue the fight.
Not all can be saved. When a warrior's death is inevitable, the Apothecary delivers the Emperor's Peace-an act of mercy facilitated by the Carnifex, a spring-loaded piston