Transcript of a heretical text created by the Cultist Gol, detailing the rise of the Fortress of Pain

Under the harsh whip of the Last Apostle, the workers toiled. Amongst the rabble were the zealous few, alongside those that had fled from the Governor's side at his last moment and others still that we seized from the Imperial grip to serve our will. All came together to serve the will of the Dark Gods, in life and in death. On the sixteenth day, the labours were complete. The great black Obelisks was risen and so it was that the Psykers and Apostate Preacher came together underneath Vross' watchful eye. For three days, I led the chants and the benedictions. For three days, we begged the Gods for their favour... for the strength to vanquish our foes.

When the third sun set, it was prepared. In the pale moonlight, I beheld our dark work for the first time. Illuminated by the flaming banner of Chaos, I gazed into the black terror of its hull and shuddered beneath the terrible wail of its hell engine. The main artillery we called 'Blight', in respect to our greatest patron, and the Demolisher was named 'Julian' in honour of our great guide. The massive battle platform, once complete, was named the Fortress of Pain and this was to be a name that would be terror to those that had brought us so low.

"I expect great things of you, Vross. Julian was a weakling... a servile idiot, enthralled by forces that he could not even begin to comprehend. He was my simple pawn... but you, Vross... I have seen your work. I have seen you spill blood on the altars of Khorne, I have seen you raise the temples of Tzeentch and indulge in the pleasures of Slaanesh. And Nurgle himself only knows how many souls you have brought to blissful agony. Your piety is a credit to you, Vross... you show great potential."

Sarados was standing before the kneeling Enforcer. His armoured hand was atop the Last Apostle's scalp, looking as though he might crush it. Vross was very still and made no motion towards his master. It seemed to me as though something were passing between our leader and the Master Sorcerer, though what that might be I could not fanthom.

"Morax is advancing on the position held by the Space Marine librarian. I trust that you understand the role you are to play. Your men, Vross... they have failed you, have they not? They fled when the Governor fell... you fled. This has not pleased me. But I am a generous lord... soon, Vross, shall I ascend... and soon shall the great gateway shall be open once again and the Imperium's defences will be compromised... slowly, but surely, my great work will begin... and when the great day comes and the Gods call upon me to bring about their commands you shall stand with me amongst my disciples, Vross... presuming that you redeem yourself here."

Vross did not move. The Fortress of Pain screamed, as if begging to be unleashed... begging to spill the blood of those that would dare to defy the tide of history. Sarados looked upon it with his terrible red eyes, before raising his staff to the heavens to give the great machine his final blessing.

"Do not disappoint me, Vross," he said as he began to walk away, "Return to me with the Space Marine Captain's skull or do not return at all. Kill or be killed. It is all a service to Chaos."

And with those words the air seemed to bend and the unparalleled sorcerer vanished into the air, leaving us to proceed with our dark work.