The brilliant beacon of white-hot plasma was aflare only briefly, but it was uncomfortably close to Xepherial's own armor. He could feel the heat of it as he cut off the long end of the blood-covered spike, which fell to the floor with a ringing clang. Gears whirred and came to life within his servo-harness as three other arms assisted him to lift off the sinister rubble that had broken his fall. The fifth arm was crushed and non-functional.
Illuminators on his armor and helm switched on to light his surroundings, but were immediately dimmed in response to Xepherial's conscious control. He only needed so much. Even still, he could see he was in a large chamber, the bottom of one obviously. Several ruined walkways spanned across the open darkness overhead, while beside him were many iconic statues and decorative stone pillars supporting the structures above. This would have been a junction between the other more functional areas of the ship affording those who passed through it the opportunity to admire the artwork. Gathering from his elegant surroundings, Xepherial figured this was probably a ship belonging to a chapter like the Word Bearers, or possibly the Emperor's Children. There simply weren't enough angels to be otherwise. Nearby, he found his poweraxe.
For all the good it did him, Xepherial moved a hand over the front part of his wound and winced. The bleeding had stopped and he was stable, but it would do him no good to rush. He would have to keep moving however, least the alien creatures he had met before found him.
Accessing his recent data, Xepherial recalled the location of the unidentified beacon that had drawn so many star ships to the spacehulk. He was much closer to it now, and with no other frame of reference, he decided to at least find out what it was. He proceeded to explore in the general direction, making use of his plasmacutter to make doors where necessary.
Eventually, the Fallen techmarine came upon the scene of an ancient battle. He recognized the purple and gold of long dead third legioners, but the other astartes corpses perplexed him. Crimson... Weren't Word Bearer's grey? And who were they fighting against? Unless it was... each other?! Xepherial surveyed the scene, paused in his progress, looking for clues.
It didn't take long for him to find a place where the dust had been disturbed. He brightened his lights to look closer and then noticed the evidence. Footprints, from the greaves of an armored space marine, were leading away. Xepherial knelt by them, slowly bringing his eyes up to the path they led. Was one of his cousins still alive down here? The possibility intrigued him, and he noted his heartrate had increased slightly. Perhaps the shaman had been right all along.