Chapter 2: The Legend of the Foreigner Ghost
For hours, he became a whirlwind of death on the battlefield. He did not fight for the Imperium,nor for Cadia.
He fought because it was the only thing he knew how to do.
The Imperial Guard soldiers, entrenched in a desperate position, watched as a figure of gold and green moved at impossible speeds, shredding waves of demons they could only contain at a terrible cost.
"Who is that? An Astartes?" shouted a soldier, reloading his lasgun.
"Too fast! And his weapon... by the Emperor, he blew that Nurgle Beast's head off with one shot!"
A Crimson Guard Space Marine, his armor battle-scarred, watched from a distance through his visor. The biometric data he received was aberrant. It was not an Astartes. It was not human. It was... something else. Something that killed demons with a blood-chilling efficiency.
The Slayer found the body of a fallen Astartes, a Devastator with a heavy Plasma Cannon. His pocket weapon, a Rocket Launcher, was empty. With a quick motion, he detached the weapon from the dead marine. His AI analyzed it instantly.
[WEAPON: PLASMA CANNON MKIII. INEFFICIENT COOLING SYSTEM. POTENTIAL: 98%]
He adjusted something in the cooling chamber with his armor, ignoring safety protocols. The weapon stopped emitting its characteristic smoke and the blue glow intensified. It was his now.
Chapter 3: The Price of War
Ezekiel Abaddon, the Despoiler, from the bridge of the Planet Killer, observed the reports. There was an anomaly. A singular warrior, unaligned, who was decimating his daemonic forces at an alarming rate in a sector of Kasr Partos. The casualties among his legions of lesser demons were statistically impossible.
"A new toy of the Corpse-Emperor?" he muttered, his eyes burning with hate. "Send the Obliterators. End this nuisance."
The Slayer found himself surrounded by three monsters of metal and flesh, the Chaos Obliterators. Their weapons reformed to adapt to the threat. They unleashed a volley of missiles and shell fire.
KABOOOOOM!
The explosion threw him against a wall. His armor groaned. Damage alerts flashed on his HUD. [MAIN SYSTEM DAMAGE. INTEGRITY 65%]. Blood, his blood, smeared the inside of his visor. He was vulnerable.
With a roar of fury, he stood up. His Shield-Saw appeared in his hands. He threw it. The saw snaked through the air, sawing off the cannon-arm of an Obliterator before returning. He charged. His shoulder shield deflected a missile; the explosion staggered him but did not stop him. He gripped the Shield-Saw and drove it into the torso of another Obliterator, shattering its daemonic cores.
With each death, his breathing grew deeper, his movements faster. The pain became fuel. His armor began to weld its cracks, absorbing the essence of the shattered demons. [INTEGRITY 72%... 78%...]