"You pathetic piece of filth" Zenith spat as he crushed the guardsman's head with a sickening crunch, his warp-fuelled strength easily allowing him to punch through the chest of another guardsman. The warm blood felt good on his bare hands. He preferred fighting with bare hands, it gave him that much more satisfaction when he took the lives from the unworthy scum that comprised the galaxy. He felt a brief spark of pain as a lasbolt struck him in the arm. Turning to face his would be killer he felt the raging heat of an intense hatred well up within him and he stormed towards his next victim. The man knew this was his end but that didn't stop him from struggling for his life, he punched, kicked and scratched every inch of Zenith within his reach. Zenith walked away leaving another mangled corpse in his wake.
Across the desolate battlefield Zenith could see a small group of guardsmen defending their position successfully against his troops and this angered him further. A bloodthirsty cry was all that came out as he tried to call on his men to assault the position with him, but they understood full well what was being demanded of them and they set off towards the position. Within seconds the assaulting force was on top of the beleaguered defenders taking horrendous casualties in their attempt to take the position. They eventually managed to force a breach in the defence and with Zenith leading the way through, one small breach was all they needed. He visited a hellish slaughter upon the defenders which they were not prepared for and they broke and ran, being cut down in their retreat. Limbs were ripped from sockets, blood flowed like a river and Zenith smiled maniacally enjoying every death with great pleasure knowing that this scum would not stain his galaxy with their presence anymore.
His men moved on without him as he stood surveying the slaughter momentarily lost in thought. He wondered if he would ever, if he could ever lose interest in wiping the pitiful excuse for life from his galaxy. And it was his galaxy after all it was just that he had to bring this fact to the attention of its inhabitants. A task that would be easier if they didn't value their worthless lives so damned much. Zenith was pulled from his reverie by a sharp pain in his side, he turned to see what had happened and realised in his carelessness he had left one person alive. And this person was now attached to the sword that was stuck in his side causing whatever it was that he had for blood now to spill onto the floor. There were no words for the rage that Zenith felt at that moment, a noise emanated from his throat that would loosen the bowel of even the most battle hardened veteran.
"Please don't kill me, please don't kill me" the young guardsman repeated over and over, hoping that by some divine miracle he would be spared. Zenith placed a hand round his neck and lifted him off the ground with ease. He looked into the young mans fear-filled eyes and snarled "The only mercy I will show you is a quick death", he squeezed the young mans neck tighter and tighter until he had broken it. He then pummelled the young mans head into the ground over and over until his fury had abated somewhat. The bloody mess of what was once a head looked up at him and he remembered a time when he was as weak as this young man, when he was afraid of those who would harm him, of those who held the power.