The Chosen Few [IC|40K]

[Imperialisium]

The Fortress of Penitence
914.000.M31

The thunderous roar of bolter fire filled the starboard side main gate way to the bridge of the Fortress of Penitence. Surviving Penitent Sons, Crew, and the arriving reinforcements of Rafael and his squad flowed around the length of the wide, lengthy space, leading up to the bride. The rectangular blast doors of the bridge tightly shut, but pockmarked and scorched with innumerous impacts, the whirl of chainblades and the detonation of more than one grenade hurled from defensive positions along with the roar of las, auto, and bolter shells spraying the walls, ceiling, and floors with gore. The noxious hordes kept coming, and the defenders drove them back, throwing back the waves of zombies and insidious creatures that flooded the cavernous space around them. Their casualties were not lite as more and more crew and even a couple Penitent Son's were wounded. Even more crew were dead and strewn in the mire of putrification lapping at the walls of the entire galley. Rafael burst the skull of a zombie with a bolt shell, bisected another with his chainsword, and looked about the space and the shambling hordes as they were scythed down by a volley of las and auto fire.

Rafael's auto-senses picked up something new as a woman yelled nearby. Rafael shifted his view around to rest the lenses of his helmet's auto senses on the form of a young woman cradling a man that had part of his thigh mauled severely by zombie. The leg spewing black infected blood and fluids onto the decking as the man gurgled blood. His femur no doubt torn and as Rafael saw, more puncture wounds from bone from broken zombie arms that had likely speared him. His lungs were punctured. He was a dead man and Rafael knew it.

A gluttonous bellow caused Rafael to swing his vision back around and there, before him, deforming a bulkhead as it squeezed its oily corpulence into the wide gallery. Hefting a rusty blade and a stomach oozing orange-yellow puss from gaping red, inflamed, pustules. Horns and swarms of flies sprouted from his skull like an organ of pestilence. It roared in challenge and Rafael instinctively thumbed the activation stud of his chain blade. Raising his bolt pistol he unleashed a flurry of shots as he began cutting down the shambling zombies making for him.

Focus fire on that abomination! said Rafael into his unit vox as the creature was suddenly beset by a storm of Penitent Son and Sun Angel bolter fire. A Penitent Son hefting a heavy bolter steadied himself and swung his rapid firing weapon around in an arc. Cutting down thirty zombies in a shower of odorous debris before drilling a rotting hole through the stomach of the beast. Its entrails slopping to the decking. The beast did not break stride as it continued. The woman's uttering was stronger now and Rafael spared a glance back. The woman was clutching something around her neck, the man as well on his chest, were they praying?

The beast roared. Rafael charged. The beast swung its blade, Rafael ducked and gave a fierce uppercut, roaring as the Sun Angel's blade bit deep into its fatty hide. Dowsing the Marine and everything within ten meters in white soupy puss and blood. The beast laughed and batted the marine to the side with a blow that was so swift it betrayed physics for something so lumbering and obese to conduct. Rafael grunted as he crashed beside the woman and fallen man. The woman looking up in fright, her uttering stronger, as Rafael eyed the woman.

Rafael grunted as he rose. The side of his armour cracked from the force of the blow he received. "You go no further, filth!" shouted Rafael. His voice metallic and cold from the vox grille of his helmet. The beast could only guessed to have laughed as it was upon them. The bolter fire not seeming to have any effect on the creature, coupled with the shambling horde swarming about it, drawing the Astartes and crew fire to stem the tide. Rafael moved to stand between the abominable assailant and the woman cradling her dying comrade.

Tightening his grip on his chainsword Rafael held his ground as the beast swiped a wide blow. Rusty warp steel clashed with Imperial chainsblade teeth in a shower of sparks. The engine of Rafael's blade chugging as Rafael parried, swinging around and rotating his body. The hand of the beast half sawed through before it sprayed the marine with a green bile. Rafael gritted his teeth within his helmet as his helmet began to corrode. Rafael tore the helmet away and swung his chainblade. But he was too late. The rusty steel of the creature stabbed him in the side. Punching through ceramite and into the Marine's third lung. Rafael gasped as the creature howled. Combating his Pariah aura with sheer will. Drawing the marine closer in victory even as its essence weakened and shifted. Hurling Rafael to the decking. Crashing before the woman and the dying man. The Zombies, even with the Pariah auras of the Sun Angels were like an unending tide. While one crumpled into a regular corpse another shambled closer.

Rafael tried to rise. A hooved foot slammed onto his chest as the beast pinned him to the deck. Rafael grunted as blood filled his mouth from his collapsed lung. His Larraman cells fighting the disease of his wound and trying to heal his body. Something moved past him. Rafael looked and there was the woman. Clutching something small and golden attached to a thin chain. Her fist shaking as she moved closer to the vileness.

Her utterances small and dim. Fear gripping her heart. The horrific creature leered down as if bemused. Its face drawing slack as it seemed suddenly concerned. The woman's utterances grew louder and the putrifying fiend stepped back in shock. Its form growing hazy then clear like a weakening holo-signal. It was then that Rafael saw what the woman was holding. A thin golden aquila dangling on a metal chain. The woman's voice was afraid but she showed signs of combating it. Determination.

Our Emperor, deliver us from blight and pestilence,
Plague and ruin.

The beast snarled.

Our Emperor, save us from the scourge of the demon and the witch,
Cursed and the damned.


The abomination shimmered and roared in defiance. Raising its terrible weapon high over its head. The Woman edged closer, raising the aquila, her voice sharper and more fierce. Like she was receiving reassurances from on high. The aquila, Rafael swore, was shimmering with a brightening light. Maybe it was the lighting of the gallery? Maybe it was his own failing eyes as his body fought the infection spreading from his lung to his other organs. Rafael squinted as the crown of the woman's head seemed to become wreathed in ever growing radiance. A halo blazing just above her the woman, frail, mortal, faced down the nightmare assailing the ship. It reminded Rafael that the Astartes were peerless warriors. But what was that to such self-less courage? The beast swung and Rafael could only watch as the golden-white aura of the woman shot out from her eyes, mouth, and what seemed like radiant wings sprawned upon her back.

Our Emperor, be my guiding light,
Though I may walk a life of darkness and despair,
I shall fear no evil.

The beasts blade shattered as golden light overloaded even the Astartes auto-senses. Causing them to raise armoured hands to block their helmets sensors. To shut them off with their own neural commands. The light settings of their armour unable to compensate for some reason. The mortals about them hiding their faces not out of fear or shame. But of blinding beauty. The creature writhed and shrieked as the light scorched, blackened, and burned its flesh. Its oily hide catching alight and the purifying flames spreading like wildfire from itself to the shambling horde. Down the halls and throughout various portions of the ship. Burning away much of the corruption. Indeed, reports would begin coming in of a blinding light and purifying torrents of fire that would leave the surviving crew and Astartes untouched.

Then it was gone. The zombies were motionless corpses on the decking. No fly, no ooze, no noxious odor in the gallery any longer. Of the abomination there was no sign, and of the woman not a single trace.

"Sergeant?!" The familiar voice of the Squad's apothecary came over him as the figure knelt beside him. "I've never seen anything like it, brother." Rafael craned his neck down. Spitting out blood. But no more came. His chest felt fine. His wound healed without even a trace of scar tissue. Even his armour was fine as brother Furion gave Rafael his helmet, uncorroded.

"The woman?"

"She vanished." said Furion in equal confusion.

The racket of bolter fire echoed from behind the blast doors. Rafael grunted as the Apothecary helped him up. They would seek answers later.

"Get these doors open," said Rafael to the Penitent Sons.

Duro Highlands
914.000.M31

Mom, Dad, I made it! Commission as an Imagist of the Remembrancer Order for the Sun Angels!-Excerpt from an Approved Astropath message from Kyleen Zera.

The cumbersome suit was armoured but heavy. Her legs already burning with the effort as the Stormbird ramp lowered. The Astartes of the 15th Company under Captain Arpad Korai stormed from the Stormbird as they moved onto the desolate ashy plains of the Duro Highlands. Interspersed with worn peaks and gentle ridgelines. Broken masonry and half ruined structures from when the planet was habitable dotted the landscape. The clatter of bolter fire was in the distance and the detonation of Legion artillery as tanks and machinery was dropped at the landing zone and moved off to various frontlines. The 5th Legion had set up several landing zones and was expanding its perimeters to gradually link up across the Duro Highlands. Resistance had been almost immediate as a rolling mist swarmed the landing zones. Followed by great fire breathing beasts coming from to beset them. It had been a tough fight. A bloody fight. Astartes had fallen was the rumours she had heard. But as she stepped out onto the broken landscape. Catching several pics on her shoulder mounted caster as she did so. The landscape. The vehicles of the Legion. The stormbirds, thunderhawks, and speeders. The marines as they moved out. Captain Korai leading them with his signature leopard pelt on his shoulder.

His company had earned the moniker,' The Solarian Leopards', by the company tradition of wearing leopard pelts into combat. Though not many of the Legionnaires indulged in that practice any longer. Merely having the black motif of a leopard painted on their right pauldron and left knee plate.

"Come remembrancer!" said a Marine half turning to Kyleen as she tried to run after the marching marines. Which, was essentially a run for her. The heavy metal and rubberized boots of her EVA suit clomping on the dusty soil of the desolate world as her clear helmet revealed the dead environment around her. Her panting breadth fogging the visor of her helmet as she stomped after the Astartes leaving the landing zone for a ridge currently being bombarded by dozens of rockets in what she had been told as a 'saturation strike.'

The ground began to rise and she swung her arms, huffing and puffing, as she struggled to keep the murderous pace of the marching Legionnaires. Murderous for her that is. "Oof!" her heavy boot clipped a rock and she stumbled. The rear most marines seemed to look at each other with one breaking formation to quickly stride over to her.

<<You are too slow Remembrancer, you must keep pace>> His cold metallic voice swam over her as she squinted up at the Marines visor. "Y-yes, yessir." She stumbled up. The Marine gingerly catching her arm to steady her. The formation gradually pulling away as the march continued. She wheezed, unsure if she could keep up after all, defeat possibly showing on her face for a brief moment. The Marine looked at her, the backs of the 15th Company ascending the ridge, and then back at Kyleen. <<If I carry you. Will you be sure to take pics of our glorious victory as befitting my Primarch's gaze?>>

The request caught Kyleen off guards but she nodded slowly. The Marine reached down and gently hoisted her up to cradle. Her EVA suit making it slightly awkward, she felt, the Marine did not protest and merely moved swiftly. The speed and grace of the Marine despite his bulk causing her eyes to widen as they rapidly closed the gap to rejoin the Company. Kyleen's stunned mind was banished with a blink as she remembered her end of the bargain. Swinging up the targeter of her pic-caster she steadied its zoom. Snapping clear, precise, almost uncannily detailed pictures of the 15th Company, the environment, Captain Arpad leading them, and of course the marine carrying her as she snapped several close up pictures.

The company ascended the ridge and entered a small dip. Kyleen and the Marine carrying her stayed near the back. Possibly the Marine had received orders to do so in order to prevent the remembrancer from being a casualty? Whatever it was the 15th Company fanned out as they moved up the dip and over it. Bolters now before them as they advanced on a collection of ruins with smoldering masonry from the artillery saturation. The tracers of bolter fire zipped in the smoky distance to the left and right as other Companies and squads assaulted various objectives in the distance. Far away from her to get precise pictures. Yet, she snapped them none the less. In awe of the diorama unfolding before her.

[Parcia]

Clause and Company

The Fight was going poorly. The new shells He and Jack had developed were working perfectly, with several fist sized holes in the blighted abomination's armor but the fucking thing just wouldn't die! He had lost two of his own Cataphractii to a combination of bolter fire and the beast's power sword. The sword it self seemed to crackle most regularly and partially active, as if the Machine Spirit of the sword was fighting the beast. He was crouched behind one of the last existing pieces of cover as one of his cataphractii dueled the beast, power sword to power sword, and his dear brother was not doing well.

With a roar and a crash the beast slammed the flat side of the sword in to the marine, throwing him several meters across the bridge. That left the three remaining Cataphractii covering his brother as he attempted to pry open the jammed shut blast doors of the starboard main gate. Standing from cover, he leveled the Judge on the beast and fire his last 5 shots in to the thing as it turned to face him. Holstering the revolver, he ducked low and rolled to the side, dodging the overhead swing and lunging upward, sending the spear tip through the armored neck plate and through the skull of the beast.

With a simple thought, a great surge of green tinted electricity would be channeled though the spear's tip and shoot through the body of the blighted marine. A great roar of agony would echo through out the bridge and the surrounding halls as the terminator finally received enough damage to be fully put out of his misery. The thing went limp and Clause removed his spear, letting it fall to the floor. As he turned to go help his brother open the door, the body began to convulse with green, noxious bile and all manner of grotesque elements and fluids spewing forth from the many holes left in the Terminators Corpse.

This mass of quivering, congealing unclean would begin to surge forth and upward, as begins to shimmer and take form of a massive, grumbling beast of such Horror that for once, the voices in Clause's head nearly went silent. The thing roared to life, spewing some nonsense about suffering and rot and some thing called "Nurgle" before raising a giant hunk of rusted metal Clause reckoned to be some form of weapon and swung downward at him.

Just as the doors would slowly open from the combined assault of the other primarch and the Sun Angles Sargent, they would see Clause roll to the side and dodge yet again before bringing the bladed tip of his spear down on the rusted metallic slab, sending a great surge of energy through the beasts arm and cutting a great gouge of metal out of the sword.

[Antimersia]

Sixth Chapter Commander Niko Melcic and Coracus, Primarch of the Blades of Solas

Coracus rode forward on his rhino. He manned the mounted gun as they sped through the tundra. Nine other rhinos followed closely behind, filled mostly with astartes from the Coracus' Blades of Solas. Although one rhino that rode closely beside Coracus was filled with a small group of Night Haunters, led by Chapter Commander Niko Melcic. The more fresh snow clouded the air behind the vehicles, kicked up by the wheels as they drove through. Being near the tidally locked planet's vertical equator that separates the perpetual day and perpetual night sides of the planet means that they are no longer driving on permafrost but simply on snow covered grassland. The soaked slushy dirt makes getting traction difficult. The rhinos are practically water planing their way towards the dilapidated tower.

"Our destination is ahead. The energy readers confirm it." Niko said to Coracus over vox comms.

"Sure, the readers say it. You know your eyes work too, and the giant glowing roots should be a dead giveaway." Coracus mocks in return. Niko snarls in the direction of Coracus' rhino, despising his mocking and whimsical nature. Though Coracus had a point. The mostly ruined tower was strewn through with dozens of massive roots up along its shattered stone walls. Each fibrous tendril was easily longer and wider than the average astartes. The glowed a radiant light blue. It was like neurons firing as the blue glow flowed in repeated patterns through the roots. The rhinos slowed upon approach. Several of them skidded along the loose mud for a few meters before coming to a stop. Coracus Yelled in excited glee as he began firing his mounted gun into the air, as if he wanted to be sniped once again. Though he was clearly just attempting to scare any exodites hiding within the structure to leave, or goading them into a fight. Yet when the gun fire ends, there is silence. The tower is apparently empty. Niko carefully steps out of his rhino and walks towards the tower. Coracus keeps a watchful eye with his mounted gun aimed towards the tower. Niko approaches one of the large roots that run along the outside of the tower wall. He raised one power fist covered glove and presses his palm against the bark of the root. He feels the electricity running through it. Not like a wire, but seemingly alive. As if it were living technology.

Niko looks through a crack in the wall and sees an utterly enormous root in the center of the tower. He walks around the outside until he reaches an entrance that he can climb through. He pushes some loose stone out of the way and steps inside. He stares at the root, the bright blue glow emanating from it is solid and nearly blinding. Niko steps closer and places both of his hands on this root. He feels the power within once more, but this time it is not coursing but steady. It is not a conduit, but a source. He suddenly pulls his fist back and throws a punch at the root, his strength plus the power fist slam into the back and crack it. Wisps of blue light bellow out of the cracks, crackling like flame as it comes into contact with the air. Niko strikes the same spot with his other fist. The cracks grow larger and deeper. The edges of the cracks spitting out sparks.He rears back his fist once more and thrusts it forward, punching through the bark and into the root.

The entire tower erupted in a beacon of magnificent blue flaming light. The light from the root burst out like a sun. It seared through Niko's ceramite armor like a metla-gun through paper. Niko tried with all his might to pull away but the power within the root sucked him in. The heat within it burned away even the air, creating a vacuum that sucked him and the remaining stone of the tower in towards it. The tower collapses into flaming blue molten rubble. Niko is incinerated wholy within seconds. And the roots wither and die before Coracus' eyes. Back at the Kestain Spire, the shield falls, and the legions of the Imperium begin their final march.

[Union Princes]

Legacy of the Little Lion #5
The Warp, as always, as a complicated and worrisome affair. Unknown dangers preyed on humanity whenever they entered and Napoli could only hope beyond hope that the rest of his legion and auxiliaries make it through in one piece. Although Napoli did not share the same sentiment to the Astartes from his brothers’ and sister’s legions, he knew they would be upset if casualties ran too high on conquering one planet. He cursed bitterly at the thought of not being able to command again. The Primarch’s brooding session was interrupted when reports that the fleet was exiting the Warp reached him.

The Fleet of Emperor’s Talons and Gallian Fusiliers were damaged from some incursions but the Pertinent Sons were less fortunate. Warp daemons got hold of the Fortress of Penitence and when Napoli received reports of the casualties, he bellowed into the abyss in frustration. How is he gonna explain this to Father? It's as if the universe itself decided to disrupt his dreams of glory before it even began!

Before his rage could continue, Napoli was quickly informed of the brutal recapture of the battleship by Imperial Forces and the news that Sentinel Susanoo has identified a potential landing zone.

Silly name Napoli thought to himself in jest as he planned out the next course of action.

“Notify the Sentinal immediately to send fighters and scouts for reconnaissance. Empty landing zones can never be trusted.” the Primarch ordered, “I want the rest of the Legions to do the same. Tell Marshal Haberiel of the First Corps to assist Sentinel Susanoo once we determine the strength of the opposition.”

[Segmentia]

The Bulwark

The command crew of the Bulwark had been allowed to have a cheer as both of the targeted Aeldari citadels had been destroyed, with the detached task-force moving to rejoin the main fleet. Titus had even allowed himself a small smile, though his optimism was guarded. The Aeldari would not let such victories go unanswered. And indeed they did not, as both the main Warden fleet and the task-force fell under simultaneous surprise attack from enemy ships. The main fleet was able to fend off the attack better, closing into a tight formation around the troop transport ships, but the task-force was mauled badly, with the Resolve of Iron suffering medium damage, a grand cruiser as well as six regular cruisers being near crippled, and seven cruisers and two dozen escort ships being destroyed outright in a heavy attack on them, the Aeldari seeing the comparative weakness of the task-force compared to that of the main Warden fleet. But that was not to say the main fleet got away with only mild damage.

Dozens of ships were destroyed in a furious, close quarters battle, with some of the Aeldaris swift and nimble ships weaving into the Wardens formation, inflicting severe damage on many ships that could only return fire with light armaments out of fear of hitting friendly ships. Packs of escort ships chased these Aeldari ships like packs of wolves chasing after rabbits, and it a show of the skill of the captains and crews that there were no collisions. It was these packs of escorts, strike craft squadrons, and even a few light cruisers that finally saw off the Aeldari ships weaving through the formation, and with that the Aeldari fleet as a whole seemed to begin retreating.

Reports of damage and losses were just starting to come in from across the fleet and task-force when the boarding action began. The first warning actually came from Commodore Lightning, the dignified and usually uncaring chief mouser suddenly turning from her position and growl-hissing towards the rear of the bridge. A moment later there was weapons fire, the sound of an armored body hitting the deck.

“TOO ARMS!” Titus bellowed as he turned and hefted Ork Bane, the Astartes on the bridge reacting at once though there were few there, and most of the normal bridge crew was gripped by confusion for a few moments, but that was all the time the Aeldari boarders needed. Dozens of Aeldari warriors flooded through the two main bridge entry ways, and in those same moments dozens of bridge crew were cut down as the whine of Shuriken weapons filled the bridge. The roar of bolters drown out much of the Aeldari weapons, and as the regular guards and bridge crew shook themselves from their stupor the snap-crack of las-weapons joined the fray. All of this happened in but a few moments as Titus, joined by a handful of Imperial Wardens, charged at the closest group of Aeldari, closing with them quicker then most would expect such lumbering beings in armor would be able too.

Two of the charging Wardens were cut down in the first half second of the melee, heads taken off by a single precise swipe of a power sword, and Ork Bane shattered Aledari bodies left and right, but the number of Aeldari was gaining them the advantage over the Astartes and normal crew. Titus was about to bring Ork Bane down on an enemy when a powerful, unseen force pushed him bodily back several paces. A psyker, and a powerful one at that. He had to get this fight off the bridge and fast. The enemy pysker, no doubt the leader of this action, busied themselves with cutting down three Wardens, but it bought Titus enough time to form his plan.

“Asamov, secure the bridge if you can, and if you must disable command from here!” Titus said over the sounds of the combat and the dying. Asamov was being guarded by several officers and other crew, all taking shots at the graceful Aeldari, trying to bring them down through mass firepower.

“WARDENS, CLEAR THE BRIDGE!” Titus bellowed again and once more pushed into charge, the remaining Imperial Wardens and a host of brave Naval Armsmen charging into the Aeldari hosts, the fierce assault forcing the foe back. Titus and the enemy leader faced off, engaging in a bitter struggle as the Aeldari showed that his martial skill was just as deadly as that of his psyker abilities, both of which were used on Titus in a whirlwind of combat. Titus was undeterred however, and every time he was dealt a blow or forced back, he redoubled in his advance, slowly forcing the Aeldari off the bridge. After maybe a minute of bloody struggle the Wardens and Titus forced the Aeldari off the bridge and into the hallways and antechambers just beyond. With a terrific clash of metal the massive bridge bulkheads slammed down behind the battling host.

With the bridge now secured, Titus and the surviving Wardens and naval armsmen continued the fight, and Titus could see more Wardens and armsmen starting to arrive. With the increasing numbers the pitch of the battle began to change, with the Aeldari fighting defensively, and then in a flash of a moment they broke contact and melted down several passages. Wardens and navy personnel broke off to give what chase they could, as the cries and moans of the wounded and dying replaced that sounds of battle.

“Get the medicae up here!” Titus ordered as he surveyed the scene before him. The Imperium had paid a heavy price, with dozens of navy personnel dead and wounded. There were a handful of Imperial Wardens as well, and about a dozen dead Aeldari. Titus saw Battle-Captain Livis approaching, the Astartes posture telling him enough already.

“Lord Primarch, these were not the only boarders. We are getting reports from all across the Bulwark of a massed Eldar assault.” Livis reported grimly. Titus nodded, working over how to react. The scale of the assault was certainly surprising, but it made sense. The Bulwark was a massive target and if it could be destroyed or perhaps even captured...

Titus turned and walked back onto the bridge, seeing the crew there caring for the dead and wounded. “Asamov, move the Bulwark away from the fleet and issue an order for friendly ships to stay clear. The Eldar may take manual control over some of our weapons systems, and we can risk the potential damage to the fleet. Battle-Captain, we have quite the battle ahead of us, I want you to take stock of what forces we have available to us on the Bulwark, I won't have us bringing in reinforcements and jeopardizing the invasion. Raise Lord-Commander Zvite and Battle-Captain Tacitus.” Titus ordered a nearby bridge officer. They were going to have a lot of work to do.

Lord-Commander Zvite

Lord-Commander Zvite and his personal staff had been occupying a strategium close to one of the vast hangers of the Bulwark, one of several where Imperial Wardens and Voln Iron Guard soldiers were preparing to disembark and make for landing sites that would have been secured by the first wave. The bulk of the landing forces were on other ships though, already making for position under heavy escort. Zvite would have prefered to land with the first or second wave, but it had been decided that for the time being he would remain on the Bulwark to help supervise the overall initial segments of the invasion. It was not a task he was thrilled to undertake, but a Lord-Commander needed to know when to step back and trust their subordinates.

He had been in holoilith conference with Generals Gloiv, Temish, and Mimsk when one of the doors to the Strategium had opened and several Voln troopers, a mix of heavy and standard, lead by an Iron Guard Commissar had come in. Zvite felt his anger rising and was about to demand to know what was going on when the commissar spoke. “Lord Commander, the Eldar have boarded the Bulwark in force, and there are enemy parties near here.” The man said, then turned to the troopers with him and began dividing them to secure the other entrances into the strategium. Eldar raiding parties aboard the Bulwark, that was just wonderful, but he had wanted to be in the thick of it hadn't he? Zvite turned back to the holoith, and it was clear that the others had heard.

“Right, well, looks like we'll be busy over here.” Zvite said. “General Goliv, you'll have command of the Guard for the time being, ever-” He was in the middle of saying when a vox-channel super-imposed itself on the discussion.

“Lord Commander Zvite, this is Titus. Sorry for the intrusion, but I trust you are aware of the situation at hand?” Titus' voice cut across the conversation. Zvite could see there was another channel keyed in as well.

“Yes sir, I was just informing General Goliv that she has command of the Iron Guard for the invasion forces for the time being.” Zvite replied, and was happy to hear the reply from the Wardens Primarch.

“Indeed. Battle-Captain Tacitus will have command of the Wardens forces dropping as well. I believe the plan shall stay the same, as the forces aboard the Bulwark are not a major contribution, not enough to justify a major delay at least.” Titus said, and like Zvite clearly disappointed that he would not be there for the main fight just yet.

“Understood, Primarch! General Goliv, I look forward to fighting beside the Iron Guard once more. I shall keep an open channel for your staff to contact me directly.” Battle-Captain Tacticus' booming, bombastic voice sounded over the vox, the eagrness of returning to campaigning after decades of being used for little else then reserve duty.

“And the Iron Guard looks forward to taking to the field with the Imperial Wardens once again as well. We shall remain in touch.” General Goliv said.

“Let us look to our assignments then, and hopefully the Lord Commander and myself will be able to join you before too long. Lord Commander, I believe we have our work cut out for us for the time being.” Titus said, bringing the small meeting to a close. Goliv and the other saluted on the holoilith before disconnecting. Zvite turned to his personal command staff, in time for his sergeant at arms to hand him a las-rifle. Zvite did a quick inspection to make sure everything was in order before nodding.

“Lets go assemble the Guard.” He said, and began making his way towards the primary exit, followed by his command staff, as well as the commissar and the troops he had brought in.

In orbit of Ishariel, Battle Barge Irons' Wrath

Battle-Captain Tacitus had arranged the first series of drop-pods from the Imperial Wardens, following the same initial battle-plan that had been previously established. The Wardens would drop and form a defensive wall between the Voln Iron Guard and any possible Eldar attack, giving the Guard enough time to organize its infantry and tank formations organized, hopefully allowing for a greater and more organized push into the Eldar cities.

As the pods dropped through the atmosphere, some being picked off by Eldar ground fire, Tacitus reviewed the plan one more time. They would be landing in what had appeared to be some sort of green-area, a nature reserve or large park, though it was surrounded by city-scape, it was large enough for the large drop-ships of the Imperial Army, the first of which were already making their decent behind the drop-pods of the Wardens. This wasn't the only landing for the Wardens or Iron Guard though it would be the first, with the others coming in at other intervals to try and catch weakened Eldar positions as the Eldar focused on the first and primary landing zone. Of course the thing about plans is that the enemy rarely played along to them, but that would be solved when it came to pass.

Tacitus ended the small display of the initial stages of the plan in his helmet just as the drop-pod he and his battle squad were in hit ground, with the Astartes quickly exiting out onto the earth of another alien world, the first any of them had set foot on in a combat mission for some time. There was no serious initial resistance as the Wardens spread out and began to take what fortifications they could, but as the shadows of the Army landers played across the ground, Tacitus knew it wouldn't be long before the hell of combat started. He just hoped he and the rest of the Wardens weren't too rusty at it.

[Endem]

Nikolai Szaraczkiewicz
Ishariel Orbit

A simple nod, all it took, and the order was hurled all across the Iron Sentinel's fleet, and soon, more than a thousand pods were hurling towards the surface. The Primarch towered above his marines, in his pod, through his helmet he transmitted his words to every single Astartes, and his command was "leave no survivors", he would cleanse the planet free of the Eldar scourge.

Free of any bothers of Anti-Air Artillery, the pods slammed into the ground, their mighty claws wedged firmly into the ground, a few Eldar gathered before them foolish as they were. With a loud hiss, a large fume of compressed air followed, slowly disappearing, it covered what the pod had in it. Suddenly, a flash and an Eldar exploded, his guts smearing all over the ground.

And soon those Eldar that were gathered before the pods followed him, as Iron Sentinels emerged from the pods, firing at the Eldar they could see, Nikolai too emerged from his pod and looked upon this world. Not an ecumenopolis per-say but close enough, colossal spires, under which rotted away smaller buildings in their shadow, all wrapped in the insufferably pristine Eldar aesthetic, may it all burn. The Iron Sentinels had a simple task right now, establish a beachhead, an anchor for the next waves.

In a matter of a few minutes, the LZ was clear it happened suspiciously fast, the Eldar gave very weak defense, as if their brethren abandoned them so that they may operate AA and AO batteries, but, Nikolai was hopeful, he commanded the troops in the LZ to enforce this position until more troops arrive.

[Imperialisium]

Oelil System
917-919.000.M31

As the Imperial forces of the 201st Imperial Fleet, the Obsidian Warriors, and the Fallen Angels pushed into the system. Fanning out to engage the Aeldari Corsair forces, with the 201st spearheading the push into the nebulae clouds, it fast proved a game of cat and mouse. The burning embers of Imperial hulls in the void as the Corsairs skillfully evaded a full on pitched battle. Kiting the Imperial forces further and further into the Star system in an attempt to split them up. Which, even if the Imperial's did not, they'd be harried along the way. Not that the Aeldari were not suffering their own casualties. Ships had been hit, two had already been forced to make for a webway gate to evacuate from the system located at the edges of one of the gas clouds. A number bore the scarred hulls and smoldering blackened scorches of Imperial weapon impacts. But the Corsairs knew one thing, once they were drawn into a straight on fight without superior numbers the battle would be lost in Oelil.

So over the course of sixteen Terran hours the Aeldari constantly moved back in widening arcs as the Imperial spearheads moved deeper into the star system.

Mirienh Orbit
915.000.M31

It was the tick of of 24 Terran hours in-system when the opening salvo from the 13th Expeditionary Fleet struck the veritable eden that is Mirienh. The planet itself was host to bountiful forests, oceans, and towering mountains protecting fertile vales separated by sweeping savannah grassland. A large roughly circular ocean in the equatorial ocean of the world being the only major site of Xenos habitation. A vast city size complex of towering structures sprawled across much of the island. Certainly, there were other small signs of habitation on the surface. But none so to what was underneath. For scans by augurs and auspex revealed signs of vast caverns like those of Calth and within them energy readings and bio-signs. The Aeldari sought to shelter there it seemed. Not that that would be a system of safe havens for long.

The opening up of the 13th Expeditionary Fleet's guns laid waste to over twenty-two surface hamlets, villages, and structures. Dozens of macro cannon and lances struck the central island complex but to no avail. A shimmering defense shield protected the boundaries of the massive city-sized complex. A city unto it self except for what Fleet officers surmised by the architecture as having some sort of massive religious significance. A temple city like those of Ancient Terran Gyptus.

Thus, the 13th Expeditionary Fleet and Lord Commander Astorian of the Sun Angels resolved to lay siege to the island...

916.000.M31

The 5th Grand Company made planetfall on wings of fire and flame. Descending like a righteous host for heavenly wrath onto the outskirts of the temple complex. Landing via Drop Pods, Stormbird, and Thunderhawk. Disgorging thousands of Space Marines and hundreds of war machines. They were soon followed by the massed ranks of the Imperial Army. Over 150,000 Solarian Palatina trooped from their transports onto forty-one drop zones around the temple-city complex. Surging forth under the cover of massed artillery and the roar of tank formations spewing their ordinance. Reducing the pristine outer districts of the Aeldari temple city into scarred ruins.

Resistence was met almost immediately as Aeldari forces from defensive positions fought through every building, street, and gallery. Stairwells, alleys, and high rise gantries were fought over with shuriken, lasgun, bolter, and grenade. The roaring detonations of explosions and gunfire slowly bleeding through the avenues and boulevards of the once alien beauty of the temple-city. The Sun Angels and Imperial Army units showed no sign of quarter. Making no distinction among the Aeldari of combatant or what one could imagine as xenos civilians. Just more targets to dispatch as more and more Imperial forces poured into the temple-city. But this was not the only massed attack taking place on Mirienh.

Elsewhere the 10th, 11th, and 32nd Grand Companies attacked in concert with over 300,000 Palatina troopers at a dozen underground city locations. Laying siege to the subterranean fortresses of the Aeldari as they took the fight into the depths of the planet. The war on Mirienh had begun...

917-920.000.M31
Island Temple City Complex
Middle Districts

The Imperial forces of the 115th Solarian Heavy Infantry Regiment had advanced methodically through the rubble, body strewn, streets of the temple city. Fighting through the outskirts in fierce building to building fighting. Often aided by companies of Sun Angels spearheading assaults forward. Block by block the Imperial forces moved further into the xenos complex. Casualties had not been light either. Casualties being flown back into orbit in equal measure with reinforcements. Now, hugging a ten foot wall the troopers of the K Company, 4th Battalion, 115th SHIR moved cautiously down a sun light and shadow mottled street. Rubble from the initial fight by F Company and the Sun Angels 6th Company of the 5th Grand Company had swept through but two hours prior. Those units as the vox showed were engaging a barricaded xenos position in a system of what was assumed to be residential structures to the East.

"Arvold, satchel charge, building before us," said a trooper to the man behind him. The young trooper, scarcely nineteen standard Terran years old, nodded and holding his lasgun, bayonet fixed, crouched as he unslung a satchel charge he had been carrying. Crouching by the K Company Captain who put a hand on his shoulder, "See that little opening. Sling it in there." The Captain pointed to a small hold punctured into the angle where building met street.

Arvold nodded and went prone. Moving forward while the Captain readied a stick grenade and as Arvold judged the distance, pulled the detonator pin, and tossed the charge into the hole. The Captain did the same but through the first floor window. The boom of dust and smoke erupted from the hole and first floor window. Screams and gurgling death throws as a trio of xenos birth forth. Two woman and a much smaller alien. The troopers scythed them down without a second thought. Their bodies lying blackened and burned in the street from the flurry of lasbolts. Then a fourth exited, clearly in shock, wearing colourful plain blue armour and a white helmet that was cracked. Ichor leaking forth. The Captain went full auto on the alien as it joined the bodies in the street unceremoniously.

"K Company, move in and clear. Watch for traps. Go-go."

The troopers of K company moved into the xenos building and its alien construction. Checking for traps, mines, and ambushes. Systematically clearing rooms as the rest of the company moved about into neighboring buildings. The back of which faced an expansive leading to another set of structures. Clearly a courtyard of some kind.

Arvold held his lasgun ready to fire as he swept shadows and corners. Dust layering onto his body armour as he moved slowly and cautiously. The trooper before him peered into the courtyard. SNICK SNICK. A flurry of bright coloured munition struck the trooper in the neck and chest. "Agh!" The man crumpled to the ground shrieking as the xenos weaponry shredded the front of his shoulder and penetrated the front plated of his armour seams. Blood pouring from the wound.

"MEDICAE!" someone shouted as the building was alight with lasgun fire. The squads in the buildings opening fire on the opposite set of buildings as more blasts of alien flechette like munition was fired back at them. Arvold pressed his body against the wall as training kicked in. Drilled into him methodically by the drill instructors and discipline masters of the Palatina. Snapping his las-gun up, shouldering it, he fired into the windows of the buildings opposite. At any shadow or semblance of movement. Adding to his comrades gunfire while as medical officer bearing the symbology of the Imperial Medicae crawled on all fours to stay out of clear line of sight. Scurrying over to the downed trooper. The man's yells diminishing into groans as the medical officer happed him with a thimble sized injection of pain killers. Opening the man's body armour as the medicae officer pulled out bits of the shrapnel looking, crystalline appearing, weaponry that the xenos used. Having the man put pressure on his shoulder as he sprayed an anti-bacterial and anti-viral spray. Another shout for medic came down the corridor as the firefight continued unabated.

[Revlona]

Co oP between Revlona and Antimersia
Halathel

All strife begins with a single word

"The shields are down, forward for the Imperium!" Elyrian said coolly into the vox, watching as the encamped artillery pieces of the Auxilia Calmora, once given confirmation to fire, erupted into a symphony of death and destruction. Hundreds of pieces joined in on the attack, an attempt to bring low the defenses before them and make any attack less costly. Elyrian and the rest of the 8th and Auxilia watched as the first volley reached its crescendo, already being followed by a second and third volley. The first slammed into and behind the walls of the Great Fortress city before them, the bright flashes visible even at this distance. The third, fourth, and fifth volleys all echoed the destructive power of the first. Elyrian watched from a hill outside the city as whole city blocks were leveled by the destructive power of the Auxilias combined artillery. The Auxilias bombardment lasted two hours, enough time for the fleet of the 8th legion to bring itself above the city so that when the Auxilias bombardment ended, the fleets would begin.

As the shield fell Cyprig smiled. He activated his vox and gave his commands to the 20th's auxilia, the Peace of Archimedaes, "Scorch the earth." A phrasing that Cyprig uttered all too often in his orders to attack enemies of the Imperium. Particularly ones of the xeno variety. His auxilia began its assault, launching ordinance of varying payloads at the tall structures of the Kestia spire. The air smelled of molten metals and ash as the attacks tore through their defenses. When an opening was finally made, Cyprig spoke into his vox once again, this time, speaking only to Silas Tlaloc as he stands at the helm of the Arcana. "Phase two, begins now." Silas did not respond. He moved the ships of the 20th legion's fleet into position above Kestia along with the 8th's fleet. One Hunter Destroyer in particular is place suspiciously close to a Calmoran ship. Cyprig begins to sprint forward, roaring as he begins his assault of the city, the Night Haunters full legion and the few remaining Custodes all charge in close behind him, laying waste to every inch of the city they pass through.

"Begin the assault" Elyrian said, noting that the Night Haunters had begun to move in themselves. Over the course of the bombardment several holes had been opened in the walls of the city, it was towards these holes that a majority of the forces advanced to. At each gap the charge would be lead by the terminator clad Heavy platoons of each company.

"Seize the Walls and Gate," Elyrian ordered as he himself fought his way into the city, the Eldar enemy finally showing a stiff spine as they were now cornered. With a single swipe he would cut down two or three, only to see them replaced by more of the enemy. Sharpshooters shot away at his men, a good number going down under the increasing fire. But by then the walls had fallen and the Sons were now allowed to return in kind.

The roar of heavy bolters filled the air as the Heavy weapons specialist of the sons set themselves atop the walls or amid the growing foothold the 8th had acquired. Tens of thousands of bolter shells went down range in mere seconds, only to be joined by lasbolts, stubbers, rockets, and even more bolters as their lighter armed comrades in the 8th and their loyal supporters in the Auxilia streamed in the gaps.

Auxilia tanks blew great holes into the lines of the enemy all while the artillery left behind at camp pounded the Eldar to hell. The shells fell expertly, each platoon given a section of the artillery to use. Close support ruled supreme as that which could not be suppressed or silences by mere bolters were soon given a quick end by the earthshaking long range platforms. Any who survived such artillery attacks were soon ended as the men and marines of the 8th streamed forward, given leave to do so more safely under the protection of the artillery.

"The city will fall by night fall at this rate my King!" One of his Knights said, his armor dented and bruised by the enemies attempts to kill him. His weapons covered in the blood of those who failed.

"So it would seem Akoran," Elyrian muttered, his gaze far off inside his helmet. He knew this to be the enemies last stand, and what a last stand it was, but under the constant attacks from fresh Marine and Auxilia units supported by deadly artillery even this stand would fail.

He looked around him, the bodies of man and eldar lay together in the rubble of this once great city. Blood, both Eldar and Human soaked the rubble as far as the eye could see.

"Begin the next rotation, give the frontline troops a rest before throwing them back into it" Elyrian said, looking further into the city where a sudden burst of fire had broken a moment of peace. The fire was immediately followed by more of its kind and soon a race of explosion's and screams filled the air once more.

The flames bellowed in every direction. Cyprig walks through the explosive plumes that he and his legion created as they raze the city to its foundations. Hundreds of astartes follow Cyprig through the growing flames. Their black and blue armor looking almost grey from the sheer amounts of soot covering them. Cyrpig fires his double barreled hellgun almost indiscriminately as he melts down almost everything in his path. And Aeldari rushes him from behind some rubble, trying to catch Cyprig by surprise. But it was no use, Cyprig merely raised his cybernetic arm and fired the imbedded grav gun at the Eldar unthil it collapsed into a bright red orb of mangle flesh on the ground.

Cyprig saw the flashes of green of the Sons of Calmora as he came through the smoke and flames. He knew it was the Son's thanks to the antlers on Elyrian's helmet that he always felt were so dreadfully gaudy. The two of them exchange looks at one another. Cyprig is unsure of what to do in this moment, So he simply raises one hand and gives Elyrian a thumbs up as he continues to melt and burn nearly everything he can see.

"The work is done, Shall we meet to discuss hunting down any of the Enemy that remain and how to split the task of their extermination?" Elyrian called out to Cyprig, his voice amplified by the speakers in his helmet. As he spoke the Sons behind him, turned away, back towards the silent battlefield they had just left. They had received an unspoken command from their primarch, dismissing them back to camp. On their way they picked up any missed wounded and silenced any missed enemies.

"We shall. Lead the way." Cyprig replied. He lazily raised two finger and swung them, as if he were shooing away his legion. The massive horde of astartes behind him turned and spread out through the city, tearing buildings apart and looking for any possible stragglers along the way. Cyprig smiled wide, his mind racing with possibilities and outcomes of his machinations as he follows Elyrian along. Suddenly as they are walking, Cyprig receives a video transmission. He already knows what it contains, so he does not open it. He bides his times to view it when the time is right.

Elyrian finds himself soon walking into a rather untouched building, one of the few that remained, his sensors told him nothing was inside but he still barged into the building with his arms at the ready. He than sat himself at the large table and watched as first Coracus entered, having received a message Elyrian had sent mere minutes prior requesting he join the meeting.

Cyprig sauntered into the room. Each step slow and oddly methodical, as if it mattered which stone his foot landed on. He approached the table, looking over at Coracus and nodding to him. Then doing the same to Elyrian before raising his hands to his helmet and pulling it off. His smile was gone now, replaced with a look of solemn contemplation. Seeing Coracus reminded him of the news he had received from his, of Niko's apparent demise when the power station to the shield was destroyed.

But his solemn look became fury soon thereafter. Cyprig pulled out a small holographic display from his suit and placed it on the table in front of him. "Gentlemen, I would like to be the first to congratulate us on our decisive victory here this day." Cyprig said, his voice high and full of praise despite his face showing rage. He leans forward, gripping the stone table with his hands, the robotic fingers sinking into the stone and cracking it. "But I would appreciate some answers Elyrian. Why, the flying fuck, are your men on one of my ships?" He asked Elyrian aggressively.

Elyrian was in the middle of reaching up to take his own helmet off when the aggressive and false, at least to Elyrians knowledge, claim came spilling out of Cyprigs mouth. His hands faltered as they went to remove the helmet, a confused look would have been visible if not for the helm.

"What in the hell are you blabbering on about? My men have been no where near you ships" Elyrian said, his hands coming down to rest on his thighs.

"Then please explain this to me." Cyrpig said coldly as he activated the holographic display device. The display bursts with light as an image becomes clear just above it. Showing definitively, five astartes in Sons of Calmora power armor have in fact forced their way onto one of Cyprig's ships. "Five men, shoving human technicians around on my ship and forcing their way aboard. I doubt you are unaware of what your own men are doing Elyrian. I do not take you for incompetent, do not take me for a fool."

Elyrians thoughts began to race, their were tens of thousands of marines still shipbound, maybe one of the Great Company Commanders had ordered this? No it couldn't be, Elyrian himself hadn't ordered it, and it most likely wasn't a ruse as those marines did appear to be of the eighth.

"Those do look like your men brother.." Coracus said, smooth arrogance written into how he spoke.

Elyrian ignored him and looked at Cyprig, "I name you a liar Cyprig, those can't be my sons, I did order anything of the sort you bloody fool," Elyrian said, anger creeping into his voice.

"So you call Cyprig a liar now Elyrian? We all know you two hold a grudge for one another, so just say why your men were on his ships. Plus its not like they destroyed the ship Cyprig, so no real harm done." Coracus said, obviously believing Cyprig but not seeing any real cause for strife.

"The harm comes from his arrogance. He sees himself above me and deems that he can do as he wishes." Cyprig snipes at Coracus. He turns back to Elyrian, "You call me a liar as you watch your own men do this, with your own eyes. Do your eyes lie Elyrian? Is your mind gone such that you do not even trust what you see in front of you?"

Cyprig began walking towards Elyrian as he spoke, the rage in his voice is palpable. Cyprig stands closely to Elyrian, staring down at him into the eyes of his power armor. The faintest twinge of a smile appears on his lips as a thunderous boom can be heard from above them. Cyprig's eyes go wide in feigned shock. He storms out of the building and looks up to see his hunter destroyer, the very ship the video showed Elyrian's men to be on, was plummeting towards the planet engulfed in flames and exploding more and more in flashes of red and green fire. It slams into the dirt outside of the bounds of the city, shaking the ground beneath their feet violently.

Coracus runs out of the building with Elyrian and Cyprig, stopping and gaping at the scene before them, just out of earshot of the other two primarchs. Elyrian walks up to Cyprig, anger, doubt, and suspicion all conflicting within his mind. He could see his Knights hurrying towards them from across the great square that was once this cities center, though they were still at least a minute away.

"What have you done? Those were not my men! What have you done!?!" Elyrian demanded of the other primarch, the fear and anger flowing into his voice as he got face to face with the Night Haunters primarch, his helmed head a mere 3 inches from his brothers.

Cyprig's face showed nothing but rage. Hie eyes, bloodshot. His teeth tightly clenched. His eyebrows furrowed into a scowl. And in one swift motion the rage shown on his face was released upon Elyrian. He pulled his Cybernetic arm back and thrust it forward with the combined might of his full primarch strength and the power of Imperial machinery. The metal fist slammed into Elyrian's face, sending his flying back towards the building just behind him. He immediately activated his Vox channel to speak to his entire legion. "Night Haunters. The 8th legion has committed treason. Subdue anyone wearing the colors of the 8th legion immediately. Silas, inform the emperor of his treachery." Cyprig ordered. Within moments, behind him and coracus the sound of metals clashing as nearby Night Haunters brawl with nearby Sons of Calmora as they attempt to subdue their green clad brethren in the decimated streets of Kestia. The knights of the 8th and the Skulltakers of the 20th clash in the courtyard as they throw flurries of blows at one another.


The Emperor's Custodes quickly burst into action. The four remaining Custodes draw their weapons and stand between the enraged Cyprig and the hole in the wall through which Elyrian flew. They send a transmission of their own, the astropath on the Arcana no doubt having been given orders to relay messages from the Custodes to the Emperor with extreme urgency. Cyprig stared them down, itching to attack them.

"What the hell are you thinking Cyprig? You have already been censured! If you keep this up father will spank you. And his spankings are the kind you survive through." Coracus said, not being able to stop himself from making a joke even in the most serious of moments.

"What am I thinking? Elyrian destroyed ONE OF MY SHIPS!" Cyprig began to roar in rage.

"You don't know that. This could all just be one big brotherly spat." Coracus replied sounding somewhat skeptical.

"I don't know this? You saw with your own eyes! His legion forced their way onto my ship, then that very ship is crashing into the surface completely destroyed. His men attacked mine! His men killed thousands of mine!" Cyprig's scowl was deep. The rage and fury on his face were so pronouced that the veins of his neck were bulging. "He has threatened me, mocked me, and now killed my people. He is a traitor, a villain, an honorless fool, and he deserves no mercy." Cyprig breaths deeply before continuing, "But that is for the Emperor to decide." He turns to the Custodes and speaks to them. "Move or be moved, puppets. I have a traitor to apprehend."

Elyrian for his part was still in shock, everything had happened so fast. A part oh his mind knew what Cyprig was doing, knew that he was trying to make Elyrian out as a villain, and that part of his mind was screaming at him to slow down and think. But the other parts of his complex mind demanded retribution. "All units, This is your Primarch, retreat to camp, fortify yourself for my return and what follows me, we have been betrayed," Elyrian said, his voice echoing through every single marine and Auxilia commander under the eighth.

Elyrian then extracted himself from the rubble and looked over his armor, looking for where the loud snap had come from when he had been thrown through the wall. He looked down and his anger doubled, for one of his antlers lay there on the ground, a mark of honor and respect so deeply ingrained into the culture of the eighth had been so cruelly thrown away by that thing Cyprig. Elyrian reached down and picked up the antler piece, attaching it to his armor before looking up at the hole he had made. "You will pay for this Cyprig..." he muttered to himself before turning and beginning a sprint towards the walls and beyond. He could see brawls had broken out between many Sons and Night Haunters, but his order had most likely just been received as he saw many of them stop their brawls and turn, breaking into sprints just like their Primarch. Elyrian grimaced under his helm, terrible things were about to occur he knew, but they would be laid at Cyprigs feet not his Elyrian decided, vengeance would be had.

It was then that the voice, who had been watching with glee as events unfolded, spoke for the first time that day.

"YES......." It said, its voice full of accomplishment and excitement at what was to come.

Cyprig sees Elyiran stand back up and begin to run away. He steps forward to chase after him, knowing that he couldn't let him escape. But the Custodes and Coracus as well stand in his way and stop him. Cyprig wanted to slaughter the Custodes then and there. Even more than he has wanted to since he first saw them be leashed to him. But with Coracus backing them, he knew it would only hurt his cause. He stood down, for now.

"Justice will be had, Coracus. I will not let him leave this planet without it." Cyprig states as he turns away heading back towards his legion, The Custodes and Night Haunters all heading back in the direction of the dark side of the planet on his orders to regroup for the chase to come.