Cyclops Cluster, Mill World. The ruined city reeked of foul odors, now serving as a pen for livestock.
Chaplain Jeremy's black armor was covered in grime and scars.
Except for the shadowy Legion emblem on his chest, deliberately kept clean and still gleaming, every other part was stained with thick, green filth.
As commander, he had not removed his armor for three hundred and forty-seven standard days, nor had it been fully cleaned by his armor serfs.
Thirteen days ago, the wall sector had been completely lost.
Since then, even changing the battery in his power pack had to be done in the field.
The stench now blanketed this industrial city, thick with ammonia. The last batch of Ovgia meat tins produced here, when opened, were filled with a strange, rotting stench, indistinguishable from fresh fungus contamination.
Boom!
Jeremy turned towards the deafening crash. A massive creature, at least four heads taller than any Ork he had ever seen.
On its back, a great banner, upon which were strung ten trophies, the heads of Shadows of Order.
Six still wore helmets, eyes bulging from the visors.
Four heads were caved in, cheekbones piercing through.
It had rammed itself into a breach in the wall wide enough for three Orks to pass through abreast and was now stuck.
Its eyes were mismatched, one crimson, the other deep green.
Massive bronze tusks were welded to its jagged, metallic jaw.
Its torso resembled a metal barrel. Its metal arms reminded Jeremy of his first campaign.
During the Second Rangdan War, the Basemekanic
that had invaded the Coronid New Zone.
Powerful metal beasts.
The beast swept its arms. The wall shuddered violently. Rock-crete rained down.
The Shadows of Order seized the opportunity. They raised their Bedrock-pattern boltguns, aiming at the beast.
Diamond-hard shells slammed into the metal shell of the Ork Warlord's Gargant, their explosions muffled.
Mass-reactive bolts streaked towards its throat, erupting in a burst of flame.
The beast roared. Its left arm smashed brutally against the wall. Six boltguns, lashed together into a crude cluster, swiveled.
The machine-spirit growled stubbornly, turning sluggishly.
Boom, boom, boom...
The beast's body shuddered repeatedly, its sides scraping against the wall, sending up showers of sparks.
Two Shadows of Order were killed, turned into a gelatinous pulp by the crude weapons.
The Apothecary glanced at them, then abandoned any thought of recovering their gene-seed.
Only twenty-nine black runes representing Shadows of Order remained on the Chaplain's tactical network.
He had deployed half of his Shadows of Order in the main city. Optimistically, no more than ten battle-brothers were still fighting in the other industrial complexes, now out of contact.
The Chaplain pressed the activation rune. The energy field crackled and flashed.
He opened the vox channel, his voice booming.
"Brothers!"
"The greenskins dare to defile our city, to set foot upon the sacred ground we established, the sacred ground we swore to protect!"
"They have destroyed our order. The Primarch will not tolerate this crime!"
The last reserves of power were fully drained from the energy field. The light stabilized.
The "Midnight Poet" sang out: "Brothers, run!"
"Xenos scum, come! Die in blood and fire!"
"For the Shadow of Order! For the gene-father!"
Jeremy leaped first. His archaeotech pistol spat the last molten stream harvested from a planetary radiation layer.
A beam, brilliant as a star, shot skyward.
The beast's shoulder exploded. Metal fragments and coagulated green flesh sprayed.
The Ork Warlord Vigil's mismatched red and green eyes, as if belonging to two different beings, crossed and fixed on the black-armored 'umie.
Driven by the roar of Gork and Mork, the piston motors on his right arm hummed. His massive mechanical claw smashed through the wall, reaching for the black-armored 'umie's head.
Jeremy ducked low, swinging his Truth Crozius. It slammed into the beast's bulging abdomen.
Thud!
The crozius struck as if against an adamantium pillar. Jeremy's right arm went numb.
Bang, bang, bang...
Black smoke belched from the Gargant's exhaust pipes. Its claw clamped down on Jeremy's shoulder, lifting the Shadow of Order as easily as a crab snatching a small fish.
As the black armor cracked, the other Shadows of Order arrived. Bolt shells thundered, slamming into the Ork Warlord's steel body.
Boom, boom, boom...
Amidst a cascade of yellow warning runes on his display, a string of red flared.
Jeremy forced his right arm to swing, smashing it against his helmet.
The flailing arm slammed into the great banner. The force field crackled, shattering the flagpole. The ten Shadow of Order heads, tethered to the other half, slid down.
Bang!
The great banner crashed down. Nearby Orks howled in surprise.
Their Warboss, the mighty Ork Warlord Vigil, was he dead?
The Valhallans seized the opportunity. They surged from cover, forming firing lines.
Volleys of las-fire rolled over the Orks like a tidal wave, driving them from the city.
Vigil's green eye glanced behind him. He bellowed: "I ain't dead!"
"Charge! Any git runs, I'll crush 'is 'ead!"
"WAAGGHH!"
Vigil's red eye blazed. The Gargant's exhaust pipes roared and shuddered. Black smoke billowed.
The claw tightened. Mark III power armor warped and deformed under the pressure.
Warning icons vanished. The armor shattered with a crunch.
The claw tore the head, along with the shoulders and neck, from the body.
The crozius fell limp.
Snow began to fall.
Mill World welcomed the first snow of 955.
Jeremy's corpse crashed down. Blood, mixed with a deep crimson, fountained from his severed neck.
The hot blood, like a water jet, parted the falling snow, splashing onto the crozius.
The staff was stained crimson.
Vigil raised his trophy high and roared:
"Waaaaaagh!"
"Waaaaaagh!" The green tide roared in answer, surging into the city like a flood.
They scrambled over each other.
The killer kans were especially frenzied, howling as they crushed anything in their path.
'Umies. Orks.
The front line of Valhallans stood firm, firing.
The second, third, fourth, and fifth ranks took cover behind collapsed walls, supporting the rear's retreat into the bunkers.
Snow fell, covering the Shadow of Order's corpse. But the Valhallans would hold against the green tide.
Their memories stirred.
Endless winter. Unending bloody war against the greenskins.
Vigil turned, smashing his way through the wall. He glared angrily at his great banner.
He raised a massive steel foot and kicked a Mekboy.
Splat!
Foul blood stained the ground.
Bang!
He smashed another's head into the dirt.
"Fix it!"
The Mekboyz frantically jammed the head onto a pole, hammering and banging, reattaching the broken section.
They scrambled onto the wall, planting the great banner on the Gargant, its side now resting against the shattered wall.
Vigil shook the great banner, now adorned with eleven Shadow of Order heads. He grunted and slowly turned.
Suddenly, two lights, one bright, one faint, reflected in his eyes.
His crimson left eye fixed on the black-armored figure with golden wings on its back.
"Oy tin boy. Mine."
His green right eye turned to the smaller figure, holding a battle standard, wreathed in the light of dawn.
"Dat baner looks pretty durable. Mine now."
Vigil smashed through the wall, his massive steel feet pounding the ground as he charged towards the lights.
Three killer kans noisily revved their circular saws, slicing into buildings.
Sparks flew. Whole structures were cut into sections.
With a whine, two Valhallans were tragically pulled into the blades, vanishing in a spray of blood.
The six survivors rolled and dove for cover.
Boom!
With a thunderous crash, the light of dawn suddenly flared.
The Valhallans stared in shock at the center of the light. A giant in black armor knelt on his left knee, a broad, straight greatsword planted in the ground before him.
With a piercing shriek, the dreaded circular saws screamed towards him. Massive claws whistled down. Long-barreled guns boomed.
The light of dawn blazed, forming an invisible wall around the giant.
The devastating attacks slammed against the unseen wall with shrieking impacts.
Amidst the cacophony, the giant did not move a muscle, like a statue.
'A Shadow of Order!'
The Valhallans recognized his identity from his armor's markings, but they were still amazed.
They had never seen anyone this powerful. Not even among the Shadows of Order.
'Could this be Lord Nareth himself?'
'No! He has no golden wings!'
Ghurgur rose swiftly. The "Guardian," in his prototype Saturn-pattern Terminator armor, was only slightly shorter than the killer kans.
He kicked the leftmost kan, sending it flying. The psychic greatsword, forged by the Cather sword-masters, blazed with light as he brought it down on the head of the rightmost kan.
Bang!
The kan shrieked and exploded, its cobbled-together parts scattering.
As the "Guardian" attacked, his defense weakened. The circular saws screamed against the invisible wall, tearing and shrieking.
Bang!
A claw punched through the dawn-lit wall formed by "Guard."
Ghurgur spun his blade, driving it into the chest of the kan before him.
He strained with his right arm, trying to free the sword.
The blade whined, catching on a piston engine.
With a bang, the kan he had kicked staggered to its feet, swinging its circular saw at the Legion's battle standard.
Ghurgur roared. The moment he had received the standard from the Black Emperor, he had sworn an oath.
He would defend the Legion's battle standard with his life. The sacred banner bearing the name "Nareth."
The "Guardian" released his psychic sword. A gleaming "Sword of Dawn" appeared in his right hand.
He knelt on one knee and shouted: "Guard!"
The dawn-lit wall solidified abruptly, its edges tearing at the saw's teeth.
The "Sword of Dawn" dissolved. Shards of light rose.
The raging blades of light, under the full-fledged "Dawn Paladin's" control, none flew towards the Valhallans behind him.
The Valhallans watched, stunned, as the storm of dawn-light tore apart the kan swinging its saw.
The light-blades shredded the toppled kan whose chest still held the embedded greatsword.
The screaming, falling grots were shredded into pulp.
Ghurgur rose and pulled his psychic sword from the wreckage.
The Shadows of Order's Standard Bearer raised the banner high.
"Attack!"