Ascension

Lord Huyyan was alone in a dim lit room the only light source flowing in from a large slit in the ferrocrete wall, that, had iron bars in the windows, possibly to stop invaders breaking in. Various glows of colours such as light blues, green and reds all shone in the room lighting up the scene of butchery and gore stained walls.

Huyyan walked across the metal grated floor crushing the body of a red robed priest under his massive bulk of terminator armor. He was unsure if the priest was alive or dead. It mattered not, the priest would now reside in the warp, though, the priest believed he would meet his god. Huyyan looked down at a shattered control panel, it sparked what little life it had left and its runes and buttons released whatever little light they had remaining. The control panel had been destroyed by lasgun fire, a scorched earth like tactic by the priests of the machine god to stop Huyyan, it would cause a problem for retrieving his prize. In anger he raised his dark silver gauntlet and smashed it through the console ripping out more components as he pulled his huge fist back out. His daemonic possessed axe, a great weapon originally forged in the great foundries on Olympia, which became possessed on Huyyan’s new home world, Medrengard, let out a shriek of joy feeding of Huyyan’s emotions. Out the corner of Huyyan’s eye he saw something move on the floor, he spun round on his heel, his dark dirty red cape following him around in a spin. The main light source of the room lit up his great aged terminator armour; it was dull silver with a dull gold trim. Many golden daemonic faces leered from the armour looking about for any would be attackers, though they would find none. Huyyan’s right shoulder plate was black as mid night and his left one was black and yellow chevrons with a grinning metallic skull symbol with an eight pointed star in the background behind it.

A red robed Adeptus Mechanicus priest crawled across the floor on his hands and knees, the silver cog symbol displayed across his back. Huyyan sprinted forward with exceptional speed considering the bulk of his terminator armour, smashing through anything in his way. The priest rose to his feet and attempted to run, but Huyyan was like a wolf chasing its prey. He raised his arm back and threw the daemonic axe with ease, despite its size, as; the possessed axe was easily the size of a regular man from foot to chest. The axe flew through the air majestically until it come into contact with the priest and cut his left arm clean off with a spray of red. Huyyan marched over, retrieved his axe and attached it back to his holster and raised the screaming priest with one hand around his throat squeezing his useless life away.

“Tell me how to open blast doors Mechanicus and I will spare your life” offered Huyyan as he looked into the half machine half man’s withered face.

“Cast me to the machine god ancient traitor” spat the priest as he withered in pain.

Huyyan squeezed the priest’s throat tighter as he withdrew his axe and placed the axe head close to the priest’s hooded face. The face of the head of the axe began to bubble and wave as it let out a high pithced howling noise as the metal changed into that of a daemonic leering face. The daemon stretched its bound face from the metal; a long metallic tongue folded out of its fanged mouth and licked the side of the priests face.

“This daemon will consume your soul for all eternity priest if you do not get those blast doors open. I will give you power beyond your dreams in return, you will no longer have to obey the commands of the Corpse Emperor and your make belief Machine God, you will have only one master, me. Accept my offer or your suffering will never end”

The priest nodded in agreement as his eyes darted over to a noise a on the wall beside him. The lift from the lower floors was making its way up to the top floor of the command bunker Huyyan resided in. Huyyan had attacked the bunker single handily, though it was possible reinforcements could be on route. Huyyan threw the priest aside and drawn his ancient combi bolter, its daemonic face barrel ready to spit death.

“Iron within!” bellowed a deep voice as the lift door opened and spat its bright light into the room.

“Iron without!” shouted Huyyan as he rose from cover.

Another figure in dull metal coloured terminator emerged from the lift, weapon at the ready. He marched forward and stood before Huyyan, it was his champion, Devlan. Devlan’s terminator armour was just as grand as Huyyan’s, and, like his was forged on Olympia itself. The armour was the same colour as Huyyan’s, dull silver with gold trim and daemonic faces. Both shoulder plates were black as night and the left shoulder guard displayed the same symbol as Huyyan’s, the symbol of the Iron Warriors, sons of Perturabo.

Devlan bowed before Huyyan “My Lord”

“Brother” said Huyyan as he reached out and shook a long firm shake with Devlan.

Devlan and Huyyan were biological brothers, which wasn’t very common in Space Marine legions ten thousand years ago. Both were inducted into the Iron Warrior legion shortly before their great Primarch, Perturabo lead them into battle. Huyyan and Devlan turned on the Emperor and the Imperium like the rest of the Iron Warriors, they were nothing more than toys of the Emperor, never shown any respect and assigned poor baby sitting missions and campaigns while Dorn’s lap dogs basked in the glory.

“What is your wish my brother?” asked Devlan.

“Take this priest, replace his arm and give him power. Extract from him the ways of opening the blast doors. Ready the titan Princeps and take as much war machines we can. The warp communicates to me and we have little time my brother”.

“Your bidding will be executed my Lord. Huyyan, your bodyguard awaits on the lower floor, what is your command?”

“Tell them to return to the ship. I have use for them later. Send forth my Chosen to me.”

Devlan nodded and bowed before leaving Huyyan and dragging the priest into the bright light of the light interior before disappearing. Huyyan looked out and saw his grand prizes. He had come to this lowly forgeworld to claim three Warhound titans. One will be kept for himself, the other two payment to the Despoiler. It had taken Huyyan much time to locate these titans. The forgeworld he stands upon now is close to the Eye of Terror and Cadia. Huyyan’s spies had learnt of a forgeworld which the forces of Cadia sent their beyond repair war machines for more capable maintenance. Huyyan had heard whispers that three Warhound titans were soon to be despatched to Cadia, reinforcements against Chaos forces in a war which had consumed the planet. Cadia itself was a fortress world and a very important strategic asset to both forces of the Imperium and Chaos, as, it occupied a stable area of space named the Cadian Gate, which, was the only stable route into and out of the Eye of Terror. For Huyyan it was just a matter of time to find the location of the titans, extract them and return to the Despoiler. In return Huyyan’s payment would be one of the three Warhound titans of his choosing and a further reward, a reward which the Despoiler hadn’t mentioned in detail. Huyyan looked out into the hangar, three Warhound titans stood in a row, one behind the other, each one was a true living art in warfare. The Warhounds bore various banners hanging from the weapons and had a dull red and yellow colour carapace and legs. Not that it mattered to Huyyan which titan legion these would soon formerly belong to. Time was short and Huyyan needed to prepare his Chosen and have information extracted from the priest soon.

Captain Herondon looked out from the enclosed cockpit of the Thunderhawk which was filled with various runes, flashing lights and switches and spotted another Thunderhawk of the same golden yellow colour of his armour. He watched it settle beside the aircraft he was in within the landing bay amongst the huge chimneys and rising bulk of the manufactorum. It was a huge complex, miles and miles in size and housed three very important war machines of Cadia. Herondon had received the distress call from the forgeworld, and, based from the description of its attackers believed them to be the hated foe, Iron Warriors, traitors from the Horus Hersey. In order to avoid detection, Herondon had to enter the planet in two separate Thunderhawks, and land at a convenient area away from the attack. The Imperial Fists would have to go the rest on foot to destroy the arch traitors and for go much of their mobile armour and heavy weapons.

“Captain, the scouts have reported in” said a harsh but friendly voice from behind.

Brother Sergeant Persanius stood behind him, Persanius was the sergeant of Herondon’s command squad, and, had fought many battles with Persanius by his side. The captain always had that more confidence when going to battle side by side with Persanius.

“Captain the scouts have confirmed that Iron Warriors are in the main titan hold. It appears they are aware of our presence, or, that we are on route, as, they have constructed a crude defence structure around the main command bunker.”

“The command bunker, what is its structure made from? Also what is the situation on the titans?”

“The command bunker Captain is constructed from ferrocrete. The titans are still present and accounted for. No reports though of the titans in enemy possession, however, sentry servitors have been destroyed.”

“Advise the scouts to split into two forces. One to infiltrate and destroy the rear of the bunker, our brothers blessed with terminator armour can destroy the chain of command, which, I have no doubts by the Emperor’s blood is inside. The other force to find and remain in a elevated position, they can provide fire cover when we advance.”

Persanius nodded and left the cockpit of the Thunderhawk. Herondon then turned to the Thunderhawk captain.

“Captain, on my mark open fire on the roof of my position and target as many Iron Warriors you can before leaving.”

“Aye, sir” confirmed the Thunderhawk Captain as Herondon turned and left the cockpit with the noises and bleeps behind cutting off as the doors automatically closed behind him.

Five of the ten scouts which had entered the titan hold several hours earlier were crawling through a dirty cobweb filled large pipe. The pipe ran along the side wall of the hold, its previous job was to supply huge amounts of fuel to other war machines through the factory. Its job had ceased a long time ago, fuel hadn’t filled the inside of the pipe for a years, though, the rich smell still filled it. Each scout wore the same armour, a more darker yellow than the main Imperial Fists force, mainly for camouflage, though, the Imperial Fist colours and the mighty symbol of the chapter still could be seen easily at close range. To cover their armour totally would be disrespectful to the armour’s spirit and the heritage of the chapter. Though crawling through the dark tunnel the carapace armour would soon be covered in scratches, dirty marks and other residue.

“So what are our orders?” a scout huffed as he crawled second from last in single file line with the others.

“Reach the end of this tunnel. Pop open the filter casing and cut a hole in the storage tank and reign fire down on the traitors below” answered a voice in the darkness up ahead.

“That easy eh?”

“I’II take them out easily with the bio rounds” a third voice chuckled at the back making scraping sounds of metal as his body moved along the inside of the pipe.

All the scouts were relatively young and new recruits to the Imperial Fists. Sergeant Tostonne of the squad had sent half of the youngsters into the pipe, this would lead to a filter system which over looks the main command bunker which the chaos forces had barricaded themselves in front off. Tostonne had taken the other half of scouts, each them armed with a deadly combat knife and a bolt pistol ready to storm the rear of the bunker once they cracked it open and placed a teleporter beacon for the terminators to easily lock onto and teleport straight in behind enemy lines.

Captain Herondon always led his men from the front. He would not hide at the back of the lines issuing commands as his brother marines did the fighting like other captains were known to. He would be standing shoulder to shoulder with them, fighting the enemy up front along side them. Herondon had issued orders for two tactical squads to flank forward, squads Alfessio and Erin took the forward positions. Each squad had split down into two squads of five men, one squad moved forward amongst the internals of the factory taking cover and looking out for the enemy as the other squad moved forward. Herondon lead his command squad in a familiar fashion with tactical squad Thysithis supporting them. A unit of Sternguard also accompanied them strafing through the factory, though the Sternguard unit would always hang back, with their modified bolters and range of exotic ammunition they could provide a much longer range of firepower compared to their normal battle brothers, and provide the right amount of firepower needed depending on the battle circumstances. The Sternguard’s armour was different to the normal battle brothers, their helmets were white, which was normal for first company brothers and had white trim instead of the companies black on the shoulder plates. Many of their armour were also an older pattern of power armour too. Even though Herondon could and would issue orders to the Sternguard if required, he chose not to. The Sternguard did what was required of them and they were veterans of many battles, perhaps more than Herondon himself and they hardly needed orders on how to approach the enemy. The part of the factory they had come through was a construction line of Imperial Guard Leman Russes, Basilisks and other heavy armour. Most were in for repairs which couldn’t be done in the field of battle on Cadia itself. Others were new machines or war ready to be shipped out. The Fists had flanked through the construction line easily with no sign of the Iron Warriors, though, the scenery changed and the numbers of the enemy when they entered the titan hold.

Persanius moved into the same position as Herondon, his bright green eyes contrasting against his scarred white helmet. He was armed with a bolt pistol and a shock mace, a weapon gifted to him by the Imperial Fists chapter master, Vladmir Purgh. Tied to the handle of the mace was a bead necklace with a cross, this was a gift to Persanius from a Sister of Battle. He had saved her life from a fearsome green skin in a conflict with a Ork Waaagh! many moons ago.

“Your command squad awaits your orders Herondon”

Herondon nodded in response. He was quickly planning and surveying his surrounds in the titan hold before him.

The titan hold was purely a large part of the factory dedicated only for titan legions. From the entrance where the Fists had entered was a huge platform elevator. It was unclear what this was for; however, on top of it was several large storage crates and titan parts. The two Devastator squads which flanked the rear could set position upon top; they could rain down with heavy fire support covering the advance. But it would be a short while before they caught up, as, Herondon had only taken a small force to flank ahead. He could not risk heavy weapons being captured or lost to the enemy if they lost the element of surprise. Underneath and around the elevator were various drums and storage crates. The Fists could setup here for the time being and observe the enemy. Herondon was just waiting word that the Thunderhawk was in position and the drop pods ready and his forces could move in.

Herondon spotted one of the sergeants of the devastator squad appear from the construction line factory. He signalled him to stop and to take position upon the elevator. He couldn’t risk any vox bead communication in case the Iron Warriors setup any scanners, which, in no doubt he would suspect they had. The two Devastator squads strafed past Herondon and tactical squad Thysithis and took position upon the elevator ready to rein down fire when ordered. The Sternguard unit had also taken up temporary position with the Devastator squads; they would flank forward and support the battle brothers. Everything was now in motion it was time to commence the attack

Guilhao paced backwards and forwards like a lion. He had been waiting for several hours for the Imperial Fists to appear, and, so far, they had let him down. It had been a long time since he had spilled the followers of Dorn’s blood and he was most looking forward to it. Guilhao was one of Lord Huyyan’s Chosen, his blood thirsty tactics and expert close quarter combat allowed him to lead all Bezerkers loyal to the Iron Warriors. Guilhao could easily see the attraction to the Blood God, the path was glorious filled with honour in battling the enemy up close, not slaughter those oppose you with disease, magic or sadism. Today Guilhao made an offering to Khorne; he would reap all skulls of the Imperial Fists before him in the name of the Blood God. Guilhao believed Khorne responded all Bezerkers were in a worked up furry chanting over and over “Blood for the Blood God”. Though Guilhao had to keep them happy as Lord Huyyan had ordered they be kept out of sight and in reserve, to keep there lust in check he thrown a captured Mechanicus priest or a servitor to them to tear apart it was like feeding a pack of animals in cage. Though it looked like Guilao’s and his Bezerkers time had come as a huge explosion rippled through the ceiling of the titan hold followed by huge amounts of heavy bolter shells and lascannon blasts, in the sky a Astarte’s Thunderhawk strafed away into the dark sky from the now blasted hole as two yellow drop pods bearing the black and white chapter marking of the Imperial Fists descended down. The thrusters of the pods fired up each with a huge roar as jets of yellow and orange blasts out beneath them slowing down there plummet.

“Imperial Fists!” shouted someone over the drop pod thrusters as bolter fire from the front lines open fired.

The drop pods hit the factory metal floor with a thud and lighting up the surrounding area in a bathe of orange colour and shimmer of extreme heat. The drop pod doors opened, each one folding outwards like petals of a flower, inside each one a mighty Ironclad Dreadnought stirred to life and marched forward as a salvo of rockets inside the drop pod fired onto the Iron Warriors. Behind the drop pods the roar of Imperial Fists came from behind as they flanked forward blasting away at the Iron Warriors lines – “For the Emperor” was all was heard as the Fists charged into battle.

Guilhao spat a curse. Battle was ahead and he could do nothing, to disobey the Lord’s orders wouldn’t just invite death, but a very long agonising death which would seen him suffering for a very long time before his soul was finally cast into the warp. Though it seemed Khorne himself had answered Guilhao’s prayers as he heard the familiar sound of a buzzing chainsword and spun round just in time to see a shower of gore and one Bezerkers head fall to the ground. Guilhao’s foes were Imperial Fist scouts, and they were far from showing they were new neophytes in training and ripped into the Bezerkers line before they had time to react and without fear.

“Blood for the Blood God!” roared Guilhao as he charged into battle.

The Bezerkers swarmed the scouts, though the scout’s numbers were half of that of Guilhao’s men and the sergeant had even abandoned his men. Guilhao attacked the first man, he swiped his great chain axe but the scout blocked it as the teeth of each weapon locked and sent a shower of sparks flying. The scout quickly twisted and sent a swift boot into Guilhao’s mid section, Guilhao fell just in time as the scout brought his chainsword around in a arc missing were Guilhao’s head once was and cutting into the nearest Bezerker with a shower of red. The scout had missed the attempt to take off Guilhao’s head was now open to attack, Guilhao quickly brought his axe up in a high arc and cut the scout in half spraying blood in all directions. Guilhao then noticed the sergeant, he hadn’t abandoned his men, but was placing some form of bomb on the bunker structure. Guilhao charged forward shouting curses and his axe over his head ready when he noticed the teleporter beacon followed by a flash of light from the melta bomb. Guilhao’s auto senses in his ancient power armour quickly adapted to the flash of light. The rear of the bunker was cracked open and a huge gaping hole had now appeared. Molten ferrocrete lay bubbling on the floor along with liquid metal. Guilhao continued his charge like a blood lusting maniac, he had truly now fell onto the path of the blood god. His Imperial Fist enemy stood poised calmly without worry and he soon found out why. There was a dull white flash and Guilhao found himself surrounded by giants in yellow armour with white helmets and glowing green eyes. Each Imperial Fist terminator was armed with a pair of lightning claws, five of them teleported in and then another white flash occurred more closer to the main Bezerker force as another five Imperial Fist terminators appeared, these ones each armed with a fearsome thunder hammer and storm shield, mighty weapons of protection and destruction. Guilhao knew his own skull would be claimed by Khorne and added to the Throne of Skulls, he cared not and charged to the closest towering terminator as he felt the powerful energies of lightning claws rip him to pieces.

The scouts had cut through the filter; inside it was full of chunks of filth and its side’s slick with fuel deposits. They had placed krak grenades on the side of the tank, and had been given the order to provide covering fire. They remotely detonated the grenades and all five of them quickly covered the edge of the gapping smoking hole as the scout with the heavy bolter rained down fire. The rounds in the heavy bolter wasn’t the normal heavy shells, these were particular shells filled with various toxins and venoms designed for taking down the most fearsome and strongest Tyranid monster or towering Ork Warboss. Any Iron Warrior foolish enough below not to wear a helmet inhaled the white toxic fumes once the shells had cracked open, their flesh bubbling and blistering as they coughed up their internal organs and fell to the floor in spasms.

“Are those the Fists scouts in that filter?” questioned Huyyan to Devlan.

“Aye, shall I give the order to blow it?”

“Order the Havoc squads within the bunker to fire a krak into there.”

Lord Huyyan, like his Imperial Fist counterpart led from the front lines, or, as close to them as he wished. He had placed two squads of Havocs within the command bunker, they would provide heavy support and be well protected seems those marines were the only ones armed with heavy weapons within Huyyan’s force. The Fists would also be fooled into thinking that Huyyan had taken up position with inside bunker itself.

From the shattered bunker window and twisted metal bars a flash of orange briefly lit up the dark room and a krak rocket shot off to the filter housing. It hit directly underneath blowing the filter to pieces and sending the all the scouts including the filter housing plummeting below. The filter housing smashed down on the floor and unluckily landed on two Imperial Fist marines who had been supporting their brother armed with a missile launcher, they had held their position and provided covering fire with frag rockets and bolter shells for the other half of their squad flanking forward. Though now with the filter housing aflame the remains of the squad quickly dragged their wounded away, but they had fallen directly into line of fire of the Iron Warriors. Huyyan ordered three squads of Iron Warriors to long range fire; the Imperial Fists were stuck down repeatedly. The surviving ones could not move quickly due to dragging there wounded comrades from the flaming filter housing. All five were killed in the mass bolter fire and lay a heap on the floor as red ran from their bodies. Huyyan lead out a huge laugh of victory, more of the great enemy had been slaughtered by his hand.

Huyyan and his Iron Warriors soon came under returning fire. An onslaught of vengeance rounds from the Sternguard unit, which had now relocated further to the Iron Warriors lines. The rounds emitted poisonous gasses, though they had little affect as the sons of Perturabo had learned from the last attack. Though the attack had been little more than covering fire as one of the giant Ironclad Dreadnoughts marched to the barricade, with a air screeching sound it fired the melta gun and the barricade melted and folded before disappearing into a liquid pool in the blink of a eye. The giant walking tank stampeded forward with ease trampling over any Iron Warriors still foolish enough to get in its way or linger on the front lines.

“Death to enemies of the Emperor!” its metallic voice echoed.

The Ironclad reached out with its right arm crushing and smashing any attempts to attack it along with a breath of fire from its under slung heavy flamer scorching the armour from any chaos followers in its path. As the Ironclad marched through the ranks of the Iron Warriors incoming fire spatters like rain off its towering adamantium and ceramite hull. The second Ironclad then entered through the barricade, laying down suppressing fire into those which fired on the first Ironclad. The second Ironclad leaned back slightly, and with a roaring ear piercing shriek two hunter killer missiles into the command bunker, both scored direct hits sending showers of ferrocrete down to the floor with a explosion. Any Havocs inside were most likely destroyed in the explosion, or severely injured. The Ironclad turned to cause more destruction and it immediately targeted Huyyan.

“Death to the Warsmith!” it roared and it marched forward with flame bellowing from its underslung flamer burning all in its path.

Its huge dreadnought fist came crashing down on Huyyan, he blocked it with his daemonic axe and fell to his knees under such force from the blow, the fist crackled with arcs of purple bolts of energy around it and wrapping around the daemon axe. The Ironclad raised its fist again, but, this time, thrust it into Huyyan’s abdomen. He would surely be torn into, but, his ancient terminator armour was made from sterner stuff. It was crafted on the forges of Olympia even before the sarcophagus of this Dreadnought had been created. Huyyan fell to the floor though he managed to quickly roll out the way as the Dreadnought brought down a huge metallic foot stomping a crater in the floor. Huyyan’s terminator armour was badly damaged, but he was still alive, he rose to his feet, swung his axe and cutting into the promethium tank of the heavy flamer, it burst into a mushroom cloud as the liquid fuel ignited with the air and against the crackling fist the black smoke quickly disappeared and the Dreadnought’s fist was a ruin. The ancient marine was still relentless in the assault, tt swung its seismic hammer on the other arm, usually used for destroying vehicles and cracking open bunkers, it missed in its arc and hit a Iron Warrior, the chaos marine exploded in a shower of gore and bone covering the hammer in red.

“Death to the False Emperor” roared a voice behind Huyyan.

It was Devlan, his brother, who had also brought Huyyan’s personal bodyguard of terminators, all fifthteen of them. The terminators were armed with a selection of combi meltas and plasmas along with crackling power fists and chain fists. Devlan released the lock off his combi melta and fired the melta round, a hiss of air followed as he hit the Dreadnought directly and leaving a gapping hole on the left side of its front armour revealing all kinds of oil covered internal workings. Devlan was the first to charge into combat with the Ironclad, something considered foolish even for someone wearing terminator armour. He thrust his power fist forward at the Ironclad’s weak point, the leg axle, Devlan grabbed a handful of metal moving parts and he pulled his fist away. The Ironclad stopped in an instance as its legs seized up and made a evil metallic grinding noise. It stood on the spot rotating its upper body swinging its arms wildly at the terminators surrounding it. Piece by piece the Iron Warriors terminators tore into the Ironclad ripping away panels and parts until it collapsed on the floor. Huyyan marched over and trampled onto top of its front panel .He ripped off the decorative panel revealing half of a marine attached to all sorts of wires and fluids. The marine’s skin was old and decaying the rest his remaining body was broken with chunks of flesh missing. For Huyyan it would be better to die than to be contained inside one of these things in slumber for all eternity.

“Never again imperial scum” he muttered as he swung his axe cutting the dreadnought pilot to pieces.

“Warsmith!” bellowed a deep confidante voice over the noise of the battle.

Huyyan looked up and saw a majestic yellow coloured power armour clad marine hacking through the lines of Iron Warriors with a mighty lightning claw, streams of red flooring his slashes through the air. The individual was no doubt an Imperial Fist captain, his helmet was red and on the right shoulder was some form of heraldry. He held an impervious storm shield in his right hand, smashing down any foes before him with grace. A black cape hung from the rear of his power plant on the power armour, swinging around wildly following the captain’s move.

“Aye, I am he!” roared back Huyyan.

“I challenge you servant of chaos!”

Herondon marched forward as his command squad fought off the rest of the Iron Warriors. Three Iron Warriors charged at him with chainsword buzzing away as they ran towards him with such rage. The first Iron Warrior was swiftly killed, Herondon swung his shield round in an arc, its power field cutting the Iron Warrior’s head in half. The second he ripped from crotch to chest in a swift strike of his lightning claw, the last warrior blazed fire with his bolt pistol and followed the attack with a swipe of his weapon. Herondon blocked the sweep of the chainsword with his shield, a shower of sparks erupting as the chainsword was ripped to pieces by the powerful energy field which surround the shield. Herondon quickly thrust his claw forward driving deep into the Iron Warrior’s body and cutting into both hearts, with a quick swipe to the right the Iron Warrior’s body fell to pieces and an arm flew up into the air. Herondon marched forward and stood before the Warsmith of the Iron Warriors as the agent of chaos calmly held his footing on top of the ruined Dreadnought body.

“So, you challenge me then Captain of the Fists?”

“Aye, Warsmith, I do. In the ancient days of Terra our ancestors would settle with a one on one duel to the death.”

Huyyan stepped down from the smoking Dreadnought shell and withdrawn his daemonic possessed axe. This would be a worth challenge to him.

“I accept your challenge Fist, and, when I’m done this weapon will feed on your soul for all eternity and your brothers in arms will be slayed”

“Is that so Warsmith” nodded Herondon with a smile behind his helmet.

Behind Huyyan and his terminator bodyguard ten terminators in yellow armour appeared from around the flank of the command tower. Any surviving Imperial Fists now stood behind the Herondon, and from a distance, the unit of Sternguard from the first company had the Iron Warriors in their sights.

Herondon reached to his helmet and unlocked the clips releasing the vacuum, he raised his red helmet, which noted his commanding status and revealed a young face with blonde hair tight to his scalp and tied back in a small tail. He had two bolts on his forehead, indicating he had severed the Imperial Fist for two centuries. Though the two centuries of service didn’t impress Huyyan, he had worn the symbol of the Iron Warriors since the days of Olympia and would crush this insignificant whelp before him.

Huyyan released his ancient horned helmet, the ice blue eyes dimmed as the helmet was removed and revealed a face which had only seen war, pain and suffering and now revelled in it. Huyyan’s hair was jet black and short, though one side was missing where a long scar ran along his head and down his face across his right eye, which was blind and was only made up of milky white. His other eye was pure black, perhaps Huyyan himself was possessed by a daemon. His face was big and round and had muscular features; in the centre of his forehead he had a tattoo of the Iron Warriors grinning metal skull legion logo.

“To the death Fist!” roared Huyyan and he struck down with his axe.

Herondon blocked the axe with his storm shield, the energy field glowed over it and sparks flew as the daemonic powered Iron Warrior weapon cut a gorge into the face of the ancient defensive weapon. Huyyan brought his axe low attempting to remove one of Herondon’s legs; again Herondon blocked the furious blow which nearly broke his arm with such force. Herondon returned with an uppercut from his lighting claw, blue forks of crackling power arcing between them, Huyyan easily blocked the attempt and kicked Herondon in his mid centre with his massive terminator boot sending him reeling.

Herondon let out a heavy breath as he lay on his hands and knees. One of his lungs was punctured from the ferocious kick from Huyyan. Another strike hit Herondon in the face as he rolled to the ground, his jaw broken from a powerful punch from Huyyan. He could feel liquid warmth on his face as a pool of red formed beneath him as he tried to gain his balance. Huyyan smashed his daemonic axe down again, repeatedly smashing into Herondon’s storm shield. The shield had survived millennia of war and dated back to a time just after the Horus Hersey, it had survived many battles, passed down through-out the ages but, its chances of surviving this duel looked slim. Huyyan battered the shield several more times, bringing his axe down blow after blow as Herondon attempted to recover. The ancient Warsmith was faster and stronger considering he had saw dawn on Olympia which was destroyed ten thousand years ago. Huyyan saw the flicker of blue, the shields energy field had now collapsed, but the weapon was still strong without it. He reached forward with both hands and wrenched the shield from Herondon’s arm with a loud bone crunching sound, Huyyan tossed Herondon’s shield aside, still with his right arm holding it.

Herondon shouted out in pain as a spray of red spurted from a bloody stump ending on his arm. Huyyan strode forward and crashed his muscular skull down and head butted Herondon with the force of an Ork Warlord. Herondon stumbled back and reached for the ground as he fell. He landed on his knees, his yellow armour on his right arm torn and sprayed with red, his jaw as broken and face had swollen with purple as blood poured from his nose and various other cuts.

“Is this the best the Imperial Fists have to offer?” roared Huyyan in laughter.

The rest of the surviving Iron Warriors let out a great echoing roar. To see a great hero of the enemy on his knees was a thrilling sight.

“Time for the essence to feed!” shouted Huyyan raising his axe and stomping towards Herondon.

Herondon was almost beaten. His mortal frame was broken, though his spirit would not give in. He would not deny the Emperor, his great Primarch, Rogal Dorn and the honour of the Imperial Fists. He looked up and saw the face of Huyyan’s axe warp into a daemonic leering face with a long forked metallic tongue; he could hear its screams to feed in his head. The daemon would have to wait a bit longer yet. Herondon thrust his claw forward, stabbing it straight into Huyyan’s right leg through the ancient dim metal coloured terminator armour. Huyyan roared in pain and before he could even bring his mighty axe down Herondon reared up, his lighting claw cracking with a power over load, he swung his claw into Huyyan’s shoulder, ripping his left armour clear along with part of his collar bone. Blood sprayed over Huyyan, Herondon and others close by of the Imperial Fists and Iron Warriors a-like as the great Warsmith fell.

“An arm for a arm Warsmith! Now I shall finish you, for the Emperor!” roared Herondon as he charged the battered Warsmith.

Huyyan reached out with his remaining arm. He could barely see as blood from his face poured in his only good eye, one of Herondon’s claws and caught the back end of his skull and ripped out a huge chunk. Huyyan’s link to the daemonic essence was strong, strong enough for the axe to fly through the air at a high rate and end in Huyyan’s strong grip of his right hand, a power any psyker would most welcome and envy. As Herondon’s lighting claw came thundering down Huyyan just managed to block it, it was close, the tips of Herondon’s claw scratching down the Warsmiths face leaving light scars down the far side of either cheek. Sparks showered from metal on metal contact and energy cracked as daemonic power battled against machine spirit.

“The fight is not over yet” huffed Huyyan.

“I will destroy you heretic” whispered back Herondon out of breath.

The two leaders locked in combat for a few brief moments. Each one refusing to give into the strength of each other, despite each had lost a limb and suffered facial injuries. Both Iron Warriors and Imperial Fists looked on eagerly, awaiting for their leader to destroy the other, for the command to be given to destroy the remaining enemy. As the two weapons of each commander refused to give, the axe face began to warp as the Huyyan started to loose control of the entity bound to it, the force of the clash weakening his hold. A daemonic face began to stretch from the face of the axe, two huge metallic horns appearing and a elongate skull. A long silver forked tongue reached forward towards Herondon’s face. The daemon’s face stretched more from the axe, its essence not quite free yet, it opened its jaw and its mouth revealed rows of jagged teeth as its jaw elongated. The daemon let out a joyful shriek as he sucked in parts of Herondon’s soul. Herondon’s skin changed to corpse grey, blue veins raced across his skin as his very soul was slowly drained him as he began to feel weaker as his strength diminish.

“Give in to me” came a whisper in Herondon’s head.

“Let yourself go. It is pointless to fight” the whisper finished.

Herondon knew this was the daemon whispering to him, getting to give into his weakness and let the warp entity feed on his very soul until the end of time. That would not happen. Herondon released his strength and dodged Huyyan as his own strength worked against him and he crashed forward leaving his right side exposed, with a swift strike Herondon swung his claw in an upward arc, more gore sprayed as Huyyan’s right arm flew off into the crowd along with several ribs. Huyyan laid a heap in the ground a pool of blood beneath him as his genetically modified body worked over time to quickly heal the wounds with blood clots.

“It appears Fist that the time has come” spat Huyyan coughing up blood.

Huyyan looked over and saw his demonic weapon had also given into the fury of Herondon’s lighting claw; it lay broken in half as the essence retreated back to the warp.

“Imperial Fists burn the heretics!” roared Herondon in triumph as he raised his claw ready to deliver the death blow.

Huyyan quickly cut in before the cry of battle begun “Titan, open fire!”

Suddenly one of three Warhound titans came alive. Huyyan must have already compromised it before the Imperial Fists had arrived, and had it lay still like the others until the time was ready. The war machine now under the influence of chaos spun on its axis with a huge metallic creak, with a huge roar the plasma annilator fired a crackling bright white flash at the Sternguard unit taking cover amongst storage crates. In a flash the great veterans and any cover they were behind was burned to a crisp. The Warhound rotated back on its axis, branding its Vulcan mega bolter and open fired on any Imperial Fists in its sight. Its super sized bolt shells ripping through yellow power armour as if it was paper. Majority of Imperial Fists were blown to pieces on the spot, some managed to get into cover, though any survivors had no offence against the rampaging titan and would be out numbered against surviving Iron Warriors.

Herondon looked in shock as the titan blasted away his battle brothers. He had been deceived by the Iron Warriors, heretics to there last breath. He looked ahead as terminators in dull metal coloured armour and yellow smashed into each other. Power fists, power weapons and chain fists crackling as weapons cut away chunks of terminator armour.

Herondon looked down before him. He sought to finish what he had started but the broken body before of him of Huyyan’s was mutating. His body hulked into a massive muscularly frame as his mass tripled in size, his ancient terminator armour cracked open, unable to hold his mutating flesh which changed to a dull deathly grey in colour. His back cracked open as he howled in pain and a pair of devilish black wings stretched out, each one the length of a Dreadnought in height. The remains of his spine ripped open from his skin, protruding at an unnatural angle as blood and slime oozed from the bone. One of his hands grew in size, his fingers changed into metallic looking blades, mimicking Herondon’s lighting claw in a chaos like fashion. Finally his eyes sunk into black eye sockets, as his single good eye lit up an evil light blue matching his former armours helmet. Two long horns erupted from either side of his forehead in a shower of blood, they twisted and stretch upwards looking like bull horns as the Iron Warrior tattoo in the centre of his forehead glowed a warm orange.

Huyyan reared up and stood to his full height. He has sworn an oath to the Despoiler these great titans would be taken in the name of Chaos, and the Despoiler promised him great rewards if he was successful. Now the Chaos Gods looked upon Huyyan. Herondon stood in the shadow of Huyyan, now a mighty Daemon Prince. His flesh was the same colour of a corpse with dark blue veins pumping daemonic blood. Parts of his former terminator was merged to his daemonic flesh, various cable and microfiber bundles hanging from merged flesh and the rear of his armour still stuck to his back, cracked open with a giant spiked spine and leathery shadow coloured wings. A large left hand nearly touching the floor with metallic looking fingers which had changed into claws.

Huyyan let out a huge roar in victory. He had been rewarded in his triumph.

“Let’s do this again!” roared Huyyan in a much deeper sinister voice.

Forked lightning cracked out from his clawed hand blasting Herondon and sending him to his knees, within a split second Huyyan had surround his claws with the same blue lightning and swung at Herondon, cutting the Imperial Fist captain in half with a spray on blood. Huyyan reached forward and devoured Herondon’s warm battered body, crunching on his head first and swallowing down the bolts which marked the captains two centuries of servitude. Huyyan stretched open his mouth wide, wide enough to swallow a marine whole and let out a blast of warp fire burning any Imperial Fist and Iron Warrior terminators in the way. He then arched his back and spread his new wings which dripped in new born daemonic ichor and soared into the air grabbing one Imperial Fist terminator and ripping another to pieces with his daemon claws.

Any surviving Imperial Fists were soon destroyed there after. The Fists refused to surrender and never took a step back. Any dead loyal marine bodies were gathered up and taken back with the Iron Warriors, there geneseed would be harvested for future warriors of the Iron Warriors. Any wounded were fed to Huyyan, feeding his daemonic appetite for those loyal to the Emperor.