Kion slumped to one knee, the damaged servos in his armour grinding as they strained to support him. Blood leaked from a wound in his side, staining the bone-white armour plates bright red. He wrenched the helm from his head and cast it aside, the crest atop it was blackened and the faceplate cracked. Kion felt as if the shattered lenses were staring at him, judging him for his failure.
The crack and rattle of bolter fire echoed through the corridors of the fortress monastery, a sign that some of his brothers still fought on. Smoke curled around the banners which hung from the walls of the basilica, all depicting heroic battles and mighty victories against the enemies of the Imperium, those deeds now lay in ruins.
A figure entered the basilica, his armoured form shrouded by smoke billowing through the doorway. Kion looked towards the figure, recognising the Mk.X plating and the squad markings on his right shoulder pad.
"Captain. It is over. Order your brothers to lay down their weapons and stand down." The figure spoke as he approached. Kion spat blood onto the marble floor, grimacing before he replied.
"Astanos, your treachery will be put down, you and the abominations you call brothers will be destroyed. Guilliman will not stand idle against you."
The primaris astartes laughed, a harsh grating sound through his helmet grill.
"Treachery?! Ha! Ours is no treachery, Captain. The Imperium is shattered, the Primarch fights wars for his own broken empire as the Traitor Legions assail the very heart of humanity. Terra had its chance to command the galaxy and failed, now we, the sons of Mars, must take up the mantle of leadership and secure mankind's future."
Captain Kion looked on in horror, shocked by the madness that had taken the mind of the primaris marine, as Astanos drew his sidearm.
"Give the order, Captain, and those who surrender will be spared."
Kion sank forward, strings of bloody saliva leaking from his mouth.
"Never." he whispered, closing his eyes as he heard a bolt pistol being racked.