[Inquisitor Rosenadel]

“Brothers, lies are unbecoming to one who desires honor. Lies spread filth, treachery, and chaos. So lie to you, I will not. Today we die.

“We face a menace that equals us in many ways. They know no fear, they kill without mercy, and they never tire. However, we are greater.

“We know courage, we know honor, we know valor. We kill with the justice and righteous fitting of those charged by the Emperor. We will ever fight, and with our very souls protect this moon from those who would take it from us. Though they may have utter bloodlust programmed into their soulless bodies, we are made strong through our contempt. We have hatred for the Alien, and loath their very presence. Though they may kill us, we will not waver in the face of death. We will stand fast against it until our time is nigh.”

Brother-Librarian Lucian glanced to the adept seated at the teleporter console. He was waiting for Lucian’s signal. Lucian nodded.

Assembled from several of the surviving chapters, they had all trained together in the destruction of countless alien races. Brother Mordian from the Mortifactors stood grimly, his paired lightning claws at his side. His left eye had a scar a quarter meter long from a fight with a squad of Tyranid genestearlers that ambushed his squad. He was the sole survivor. Brother Altos stood, gripping his heavy bolter tightly. He was a mere neophyte when the Orks completely overran the Crimson Fist’s homeworld. Lucian remembered the tales of valor and sacrifice Altos told the Librarian when he was found, along with several other neophytes, and one battle-brother of the Crimson Fists as they sped away from Rynn’s World in the capsules. The Chapter Master wanted the Fists to live on, and sent their most promising neophytes, as well as a sample of recovered gene-seed, to safety so they might one day restart the chapter.

Lucian saw much in his brothers’ eyes. He could feel their emotions. As the hum of the teleporter filled the room, Lucian addressed his squad of hardened Deathwatch members; “Today, we fight for humanity’s right to endure, a right made so by the Immortal Will of the Emperor, enforced by us, his faithful servants-“

The Warp suddenly howled all around them, a brief wave of nausea hitting, voices laughing at him, and coldness stinging all the way to the bone. But it passed, they stood on Titan, surrounded by Adeptas Sororitas, the elite Grey Knights, and other squads of Deathwatch, as well as stormtroopers, and Inquisitors. There were thousands of gaunts, genestealers, and gargoyles. Hive Tyrants directing their swarms, Carifexes wading through the destruction to inflict more of the same. Zoanthropes blasting apart whole squads, blowing holes in Rhinos. Even larger monstrosities loomed in the distance. What Lucain thought were mountains were slowly moving towards the last Inquisitorial fortress on the moon.

"FOR THE EMPEROR!” Lucian roared as his squad let loose with their bolters, Altos’s heavy bolter thundering above the rest. Lucian called upon the power his mentor had taught him, unleashing the spirit of all the fallen battle-brothers of his chapter, the Imperial Fists. A wave of energy flew from his fingertips, surging forward into the lesser Tyranids, ripping them apart and searing their flesh.

“Squad, with me!” They plowed forward, their melee weapons slashing limbs from bodies, closing in on a Hive Tyrant with a large, crackling sword. It roared in acceptance of their challenge as it spotted them. Its Tyrant Guard ripped into Lucain’s squad. Altos was slashed in two almost immediately, and two other brothers were slain, the Guards’ claws shredding the ceramite armour. Lucian and the survivors struck back, hacking the Guards as they could, Lucian impaling one, then focusing his thoughts, channeled the energy of the Warp through his staff, and flaying the Guard from the inside.

But now the Tyrant was in the fray. He cleaved Brother Dimitrius and Brother Talus in two, his remaining guard rending two more to pieces. Brother Mordian let his anger loose, carving up another Tyrant Guard, but was stabbed through by the Hive Tyrant. Lucian was temporarily blinded by a dazzle of spots before his eyes, and then moaned at the intense headache as his servo-skull familiar was destroyed by a Guard, which he summarily killed in the same manner as the first. But the Tyrant was quick, and chopped off Lucian’s bolt pistol arm, and stabbed him through the chest, cracking the ceramite armour, and pushing splinters into his chest. Even his highly ossified chest cavity was cracked, and more slinters stabbed at his twin hearts, which he could hear starting to fail in his ears. He raised his staff high, bringing it down and into the Hive Tyrant’s own chest, punching through its chest cavity. The Tyrant roared in pain, which was lost in the din of battle. Lucian used his last drop of will and the energies of the warp shone from the Hive Tyrant’s orifices, and then it burst in a gout of blue flame. It fell, and Lucian with it.

The last thing he saw was the fortress monastery, belching smoke, still intact, but beset by millions of creatures scuttling up the walls. He heard gunfire, roars, and screams, both alien and human, mixing and drowning him. He felt the courage, and the pain, of his brothers in arms. He could sense they were failing. But he could do nothing. Now he would dine with the Emperor…