The snow was dark, unusually dark. Meto looked up from the small fire, the crumbling spires towered above him as the bombed out buildings gaped at him with their mouths like doorways. People used to live here; this hab-block was once home to hundreds of loyal souls. Times had been good then, Meto had lived well, and had enough to eat and a place to rest his head, but that was before, before betrayal had doomed his world. The Space Marines, the Emperor's holy worriers had once called this planet home. Look at it now, a broken, tattered and ruined shadow of its former self. Once gold had flowed through the streets and great statues of the God Emperor and his holy sons had stood here among the great halls and temples. The snow was definitely darker now, and thicker. Meto could feel it bearing down on him, thick flakes of the stuff fell all around him, not flakes now but more like chunks. A piece landed in his out stretched hand, and he brought it closer to get a better look. The flake was green! Meto recoiled dropping the flake. It was then that it happened, a sudden screech, and then the ground around him shook with an almighty roar, throwing him off of his feet and sending him flying into a ruined metallic fence, that buckled under his weight. Slowly he raised his head. A face loomed over him, ghastly to in its every feature. As his eyes began to focus again, he saw it, the right shape but not at all human. A blank metallic face mask materialised close to his face. A strange featureless face peered into his, his grey eyes gazing into two blank dark slits. A gurgling voice resounded from within the cultist's iron mask.
"Flesh acquired." Mechanics whirred and clicked under the grey skin of the abominations forearms. A metal claw extended towards Meto's face, a wet patch appeared on Meto's trousers as the claw made contact with his thought. Meto felt himself rising off the ground, and then the world went dark.
Light flashed in an abandoned square, a dark swirling light that flickered and changed. An arm appeared out of it, then a leg, and finally a fully armoured form materialized. The square filled slowly filled out with these armoured figures. They filed into perfect ranks. One of them spoke into his helmets inbuilt coms array.
"Venom Brothers in position." A static encrusted voice answered through the coms array.
"Copy Sea Born in position and ready to fire, make preparations for the attack". As one the chaos space marines turned and marched in perfect ranks down the alley way to the edge of the main road. Further up the road a Colum of chimera armoured transports escorted a solitary rhino.
Champion Corgal removed his helmet, a concoction of chemicals spilled down his chest plate, onto the floor. He breathed in the Sweet air of his home, his true home, not some ship cell or battle field but the place he once grew up in, all those years ago, before he was taken to become one of the Iron Saints, the corpse's gods holy angels, but that two was in the past, a long forgotten dream, a naive dream, they had believed that they were doing the emperor's will but in fact they were signing their own death warrant in the eyes of the corrupt imperium. Corgal stepped into the road. The lead Chimera Commander's face widened as he starred at the traitor marine standing in his path. Thrusting out his arms in a sweeping gesture and shouted in a crackling voice that burst the eardrums.
"Gaze upon your doom mortals!"
On his signal 9 Precision shots found their mark, tank tracks split and the Chimera Commanders legs impacted with the cabin deck of the interior of the vehicle. The lead chimera surged forward hoping to run him down in vengeance, a krak missile impacted with the tracks of the speeding transport causing it to flip dramatically over Corgal's Head. Corgal turned the chimeras back hatch now exposed to him, reaching for the emergency disembarkation handle, reaching it off, preventing the occupants escape, Corgal reached for the flamer slung across his back, and pocked the nozzle through a hole in the chimera's back hatch, and pulled the trigger not stopping until the fuel was empty.
The Rhino had ground to a halt unable to move now that its tracks were disabled. The back door slid open a group of humans were huddled pitifully inside, one of them fumbled with an antique las pistol trying to fire it at Corgal. The bolt pinged harmlessly off of his power armour. Corgal responded with a shot of his own, what was left of the trooper slid to the floor in a fleshy heap. The PDF officials were breaking down into hysterics now sobbing and pleading for their lives, there were 7 of them in total 2 troopers, 4 snivelling advisors and his target, the planetary commander, a poor excuse for a general who would never have made it past the rank of private in the days of old, but he alone stood defiantly.
"I demand that you let us go you disgusting traitor you!" Corgal didn't bother to answer, but simply backhanded the young man into the wall behind him shattering the poor man's arm in the process.
"Take the rest of them to the processing facilities, I am sure the Flesh Smiths will be glad of the new recruits" Corgal ordered, obediently two of the marines began grabbing the officials and herding them roughly out of the rhino.
"As for you, I here that the Sorcerer want a word with you." Corgal uttered to the Commander, who lay on the ground nursing his shattered arm.