Rust
I looked around. I was in the same trench I had been in for the past two weeks. The frontline, and now only defence against the massive Ork Waaagh heading towards the city. The Emporer forsaken city that had already been evacuated. But as Commissar Valden had said: "The city is a mark of Imperial prowess and pride, we must not let a few beasts destroy and ransack it!"
And when Private Minn had refused to man the trenches, the Commissar blew his face off with a laspistol. Not suprisingly none of the other men voiced any objections. And even more unsuprisingly Commissar Valden isnt present in the trenches now. Figures. Id look on the brightside, but I cant find one, other than the fact that when im being ripped to shreds by an Ork that one of my grenades might detonate, putting me out of my misery if im still alive, and killing the scumbag who was responsible for it. Not realy a brightside to it then. They must have been getting close now. I could hear theire battlecry. Couldnt see em' though. The air was thick with smoke from a few previous raids. I could see a few burnt out tanks a few meters infront of me but nothing beyond them. Still geting closer. I looked down and adjusted my flak armour. Then I saw a massive patch of red on my chest plate. My eyes widened and I clutched my hand to my chest. I brought the hand back infront of my face and looked closer at the red substance. Just rust. I let out a nervous laugh, and a few of my fellow guardsmen looked at me. They saw the massive spot of rust on my chest and started laughing too. Why? I dont know. But we were either going to laugh at nothing, or cry about our impending deaths. So we laughed. And we kept on laughing. When we could make out a few hundred green shapes in the distance. When bolts were flying over our heads. And even when those bastards were so close we could smell the putrid stink of death flowing off of them...
Commissar Valden strode across the once chalk white concrete of the city. Now it was a dirty burnt black. Every single building had been destroyed, or at the very least ransacked. He walked on until he came to the city limits, where the burnt concrete met brown muddy earth. Running straight down the middle of the earth was long winding trench. Only one part of it had been occupied. That part and all the land in the immediate area of it was splattered with crimson. Upon looking inside the trench, the Commissar was greeted by the sight of about thirty bodies, all clad in green flak armour and murky brown under clothes. "Not a single shot was fired of Commissar. It would seem your men simply gave up." Inquisitor Malen pushed Valden to his knees infront of the trench. He was a descrace to the Imperium. Not only did he abandon his duty, he had lost the Empire a city full of valuble equipment and holy scriptures. "Alexal Valden, you are a traitor to the Imperuim of man. A Heretic." The Inquisitor scowled at the mention of the word. "Thus according to the laws and customs of the Imperium, you have been sentenced to death, and eternal damnation for neglegting your Emporer given duties. May the Emporer have mercy on your soul."
A single shot rang out, and Alexal Valden fell into the trench in which his men had dies. At his command.