1st company captain Malkus stood behind the mechanical door leading to the meeting hall inside the White Angel's Fortress Monastery, the ship was much larger than most and scores of human lives had been lost during its years of creation, it was truly a testament to the great power of the Imperium, the corridor leading to the door barely held his massive frame, his bulk was indeed larger than most Astartes, they had barely found a set of armor within the Chapter's archives to fit him.
The armor was a bright white, freshly polished; the angel wings were a glaring silver, they adorned his right shoulder pad, the large black I on his shoulder looked out place practically tainting the pure whiteness with its black coloring, two gold studs were implanted on top of his brow, showing his hundred years of service within the Adeptus Astartes, and he was proud of it and he couldn't believe he'd spend so long fighting the Emperor's enemies, even though hundreds of his battle brothers had fallen in blessed combat, he'd still dealt death to even more Xenos, destroying the enemies of mankind was his greatest calling of all, nothing would stop him from crushing each Ork, burning each Heretic or purging the unclean flesh of a mutant.
The bolter in his right hand had dealt the death the Xenos and betrayers deserve, crafted upon a pollution engulfed Forge World where the air hurt to breath and the sky was gray in the stead of the normal blue coloring. The Chain sword was held in left his, his four giant fingers just under the trigger, always ready in the case of a threat, though the possibility of their being one on this great mechanical warship was a very slim chance, an Astartes was always prepared, always ready for a threat if there was none, it was always a good thing to be on your guard, never letting your skills dull. The training had been taught to him for years, showing him how to use his body as weapon and his weapons as tools of death.
A rough scar traced his cheek, the Choppa of an Ork from a recent campaign had pierced the roughened flesh, a crusade that had robbed the chapter of their master, forcing Malkus to take his spot as the Chapter Master of the White Angels Space Marines. Darius had fought a brave fight against the War boss of an Ork Clan, a giant even compared to most Nobs, Malkus was force to fight the War Boss, vanquishing it from the living world, if it hadn't been for its already weakened frame, he would've been crushed like a ragdoll.
He recalled his face being ruggedly handsome once, but before his induction into the Space Marines, his memories were hazy, though he could recall everything as though it were yesterday after he had been given the holy Gene-seed. But now his face was a scar ridden husk of what it had once been burns, cut, everything that had hit him left evidence on his face. His brown hair was short, shaven to make sure the enemy or a sparring partner couldn't use it to their advantage, many times he considered shaving it off, but he had never done so, yet he didn't know why, after his promotion to Chapter Master, he would be sure to shave it off finally.
A cold feeling was in his veins, one of sorrow and displeasure, he was not ready to take up the mantle of Chapter Master and lead a thousand Astartes into holy battle. The previous one had been much wiser then he, having more experience then Malkus could've ever have. A plain frown was on his scarred face, persistent to show his disappointment, he would've been perfectly content on leading the 1st company into battle for the rest of his life even though it might be short, even though he knew all of the names of the Space Marines in the Chapter's rank's, he was still neutral with some, and thought ill tempered by others. This assessment was true; his temper was small, but only because of dealing with years' worth of ignorant Imperial Guard officers.
His hands clipped the holy sword to his belt, clamping the bolter pistol to his waist as well, and his hand reached out opening the door to the gathering room of the White Angel's Fortress Monastery. Revealing hundreds of Astartes lined up in perfect order, all wearing helmets as they stood emotionless, forming a path in the middle for their soon to be Chapter Master to walk, they did not swaying, looking proud as they held their bolters at their sides. Before him was the red carpet, lined with golden thread, it was a magnificent piece of colored tailoring. At the end of it was the head Chaplain of the White Angels. His silver skull helm hiding any emotion that maybe expressed beneath it. He held the most years under his belt, if anyone were to take over Durious's position, it should've been him.
Slowly, his pure white boats strode toward the Chaplain, each one landing with a loud thud, echoing throughout the chamber. He slouched his shoulders, his massive frame unable to be supported fully by his. His head stared forward looking in the direction of the holy battle brother, not swaying to look upon the tactical marines that made up most of the Chapter's ranks. Unlike most Chapters, their ranks weren't as badly depleted; they were still in a large supply of Gene-seed, the holy seed of creation which was bestowed upon every initiate that proved themselves worthy.
Finally, the long walk brought him to Chaplain Moreas, kneeling before him, his head bowed in respect to his righteousness. "Chaplain, I come before you a captain, our great Chapter Master has fallen in holy battle, defending the glorious word of the God-Emperor. I have been chosen by chain of command to lead the White Angels Chapter of Space Marines. I ask you to bestow upon me, the Emperor's blessing, so I may serve him in death and life, along with all future campaigns." He did his best to make his voice sound proud, and in a way he was, he was just not amused to be in this position.
"Rise, Brother Malkus, know that the Emperor has bestowed upon you his blessing, know that the Emperor of Mankind has chosen you to lead his Angels of Death into holy combat against his foes. Do not betray his trust Malkus, for he has put a finger upon you." Moreas said, turning away from the Captain to the container of an ancient relic, passed down from Master to Master, it was the best part of being the Chapter Leader, being able to wield the holy hammer.
Moreas knelt, prying open the container and pressing the Stasis field off, the power which had made it immune to time, his hand grasped it and raised it, revealing the ancient power hammer that had killed thousands of heretics and Xenos, the greatest of the Chapter's artifacts was soon to be in his hands and this part was the only thing that truly excited him. "Malkus, Aegeris is the most powerful of all of the Chapter's relics, as a sign of trust from the God-Emperor, we, The Chapter, bestow it upon you, kill many a heretic with it Malkus. Rise, and grasp the ancient Power Hammer in your hands. Since the first founding the hammer has been in the Chapter, even through the late years of the Great Crusade."
Malkus rose, extending his arms out so the hammer may finally be his, the Chaplain dropped Aegeris into his hands and he closed his eyes, the holiness of the weapon almost too great to bear. The power surging through his veins, the hammer was lighter than any sword he has ever wielded, but he could since the sheer power behind it. How many lives has this relic ended? How many heretics has it banished to warp? A number far beyond counting, its number of casualties it had inflicted may have well numbered in the hundreds of thousands.
In sequence the Chapter's Marines recited a prayer from the Emperor's holy book, the words were all said in unity, not one faltered, and even the Chaplain's voice joined these marines. It was a beautiful prayer, even though the Marine's voices were rugged, and deep.
"At battle's end, speak his name in a clear voice. Respect the bravery of the living. Crush those who would dare disrespect his name. Honor the dead that have fought for him in battle. The Emperor is the only being that may claim dominance over the Galaxy; he is the one, the only true god of humanity. Praise his name always." The prayer was one of his favorites, its spoke of the greatness that was truly the Emperor, and as he turned, Aegeris in the grasp of his hand, overlooking his battle brothers. He thought he might just may a great Chapter Master yet.