Valia groggily opened her eyes in the dead of night, still lying on the couch in the living room where Randy had put her. Her bare feet were tickled by the cold wind, and her toes had become so stiff they resisted any effort she made to move them. On the bright side, her ankle wasn't hurting anymore, thanks to what the Catachan did earlier. With a heavy sigh, Valia picked up her stinky old socks nearby and reluctantly put them on. She hated them with a passion, but unfortunately for her; passion could not burn in this freezing weather.

Looking around, Valia saw the building had retained much of its elegance design and layout despite the war, most likely because the invaders were worshipers of Slaanesh and deemed this place worthy in their image. The walls were lined with oil paintings of magnificent scenery Valia was certain could not be found anywhere on Cadia, for 14 Black Crusades had put a permanent end to that. The furniture, including the couch she was on, were of fine material and texture, excellently woven, unlike any clothes she had got her hands on all her life. There was also a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, though it was dark and Valia could hardly discern what it looked like.

Something was not right, Valia had a rude awakening. Where was everyone?

The room was empty, devoid of any human presence apart from her own. Valia searched for any indication that her comrades had been here, a weapon, an ammo box, cigarette litter, anything. To her surprise and horror, she found none, as though they had never been there and she had just accidentally come across this forsaken place. The door to the main hall of the building was cracking eerily, swinging to and fro under the strong wind.

Valia got to her feet, glad that she could walk again. Making a mental note to herself to thank Randy later, she walked to the door and opened in once and for all. The next room was like the first, dull and stark with luxurious items displayed all over the place. Valia's heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of a figure standing at the corner, face hidden in the shadow. The Cadian girl wished she had a lasgun right now, for a Guard of the Imperium was as good as pig ready for slaughter without his/her weapon. Grabbing a candle base for some reassurance no matter how useless it was plus the fact it was made of gold and she hated breaking expensive items (the one time she screwed up the Commissar's fake silver medal, she got flogged badly), Valia advanced towards the figure cautiously.

It was patently a human, and as Valia got nearer to it, she saw the Cadian Imperial Guard flak armour on it. Valia was hoping to meet up with another lost comrade when the figure turned to face her. What she saw shocked her so much her body was completely taken by paralysis and the candle base dropped from her numb hands. It was Evalan, from the same regiment as Valia was. She could not possibly be here, not in a million lifetimes, because…

"You are dead," stammered Valia without much thinking. Evalan was Valia's best friend since joining the Guards. The two were in the same squad, fighting together, sharing lunch, chatting about things the Emperor would be embarrassed if He could hear. Evalan was killed by the Orks on Daiji V, an axe chopping off half of her neck and leaving her bleeding to death without any cure. The blow was meant for Valia, thanks to her stupidity when she popped out her head from a dug hole. The reason she survived was that Evalan was conveniently there, and Valia took her chance to exploit her friend one final time. Evalan was bad at cooking meat, but she sure made a good meat shield right there.

"Yes I am," Evalan replied smiling sinisterly. She cringed her head, revealing the conspicuous wound on her neck where blood overflowed an endless stream as though it had come from Khaine's hands themselves. "And you are the one who killed me."

Overtaken by terror, Valia stepped back. This was not supposed to be. Dead people don't come back to life.

"I…I had no other choice…I was…." Valia began. Not letting her friend explain herself, the ghost of Evalan pounced forward and pinned Valia down, both hands choking on her throat. Valia struggled, but her body was just melting from some ethereal power.

"I died because of you, bitch!" Evalan screeched madly like a banshee. "I died because you did not give me a choice which I fucking deserve. Now you are going to the Warp with me. No Emperor will protect sinners of your kind."

"Noooooo!" Valia screamed as loud as her lung could.

The next thing she knew, she was on the couch, in the living room, still alive, still barefooted but her feet weren't cold anymore because a blanket had been kindly put on her. Everything had been but a nightmare, and just like dreams, all nightmares must come to an end.

"You are not sleeping well?" asked Leitdorf. Valia gazed around and saw all her comrades were in the same room, slumbering soundly. Gutsman the Ogryn was snoring like a truck's engine. He was in the far corner, everyone else a good distance from him. For some reasons, people from Mordia did not sleep at night. The fixated position of their planet with the sun making one-half covered in molten lava and the other in eternal darkness might have something to do with that.

"Yeah," Valia nodded.

"Rest well, you are going to need it," the Mordian said, patting on Valia's head which made her blushed. "Enjoy while you can. We are deep in enemy territory, and they are coming in force, there is no telling if we can have a quiet night like this again."

Without further words, the Cadian girl went back to sleep, wondering if Evalan would haunt her dreams again.


The next day started with a bang. A very big bang, in fact: so big, the apartment three blocks away collapsed within seconds. Everyone was shot up, startled. The Ogryn was still sucking his thumb and murmuring about lollipop, unsurprisingly.

The artillery bombardment had begun. The city was large and without any active spotters, the Imperium were firing blind and would be only hitting cockroaches with howitzers. If anything, they might give the Chaos lunatics a headache which might slower their taking control of the city, though the lack of any unit on the defence would make sure that would be a very rare occurrence.

Alastor, or Grenadier R40592, suggested fortifying the building and turning it into a stronghold where the group could hold up the enemy until reinforcement arrived. He had adopted the name Alastor from Leitdorf, a natural development in their relationship. Besides, Grenadier R40952 sounded terrible, and no one could speak that with a straight face, all except the Krieg of course, and the Ogryn who pronounced it Grenadia Argh-40442 (he could only count up to 4). After some debate which Valia, being a lowly trooper, played no part of they had decided against the proposal. As much as this house seemed likely to hold up a large number of enemies with the right type of decoration, especially those nasty Catachan booby traps like the ones used against the Tyranids, there was much risk that the Chaos force had Space Marines with them. Reports mentioned the sightings of the Flawless Host, a traitor Warband almost decimated by Kharn the Betrayal a few years back, on several battlefields. Chances were, without anything else to fight in the city, they would be drawn to the static defence.

Having packed all that they needed, including some dry food from the kitchen shelves, and gone to the bathroom except the Ogryn who was sent to a more discrete place, they moved out. Gutsman carried Alastor's autocannon with six belts of ammo as effortlessly as a man lifting his arm. The M42 Horophane Pattern proved much less unwieldy compared to previous models and could be managed by a single person, thus allowing greater speed and flexibility. Valia felt a bit jealous seeing everyone else was using new shiny kits while she was stuck with a lasgun that had been around for probably a few millennia (at least the crappy model design had not changed).

The destination was out of this city which was falling rapidly to the hand of Chaos. Mkeller displayed a map and according to it, the fastest escape route was through Barkellay Street which would lead directly to the highway.

"If luck is on our side, we can get our asses to the Red Ridge Highway before sunset," said the Tanith.

"And if it is not?" asked Randy.

Mkeller shrugged. "Then we are feth."

"What does feth mean?" asked Valia, perplexed.

"I am sure that feth is a slang term originate from Tanith," said Alastor. "It's meaning, well, although I cannot put my finger on it, it should be something bad, something awful."

"You really don't need to know a lot about the mystic language of the wood-loving people," said Randy to Valia, chuckling. The Catachan had quite a sense of humour, compared to the stiffness of the others. His presence made Valia feel more reassuring. Her foot was feeling much better now thanks to him, though the oversized boots still proved to be a nuisance.

The six Imperial Guards moved their way through mountains of debris and wreckages, occasionally coming across cadavers that had been unceremoniously disposed of by rats and insects. Given the nefarious nature of the enemy, it was best that they were so; otherwise, the Inquisition might get fused up about. The group stopped, not because they had reached where they wanted, far from it, but because there was a massive wall in front of them.

A massive wall made from materials of the Warp had literally surrounded the whole city. How the Chaos force had constructed it overnight was unbelievable, even by their fickle standard.

"What in the name of God Emperor is this?" Leitdorf gapped.

"This is the doing of sorcery, no doubt," said Randy. "They are setting up some sort of barrier, probably to protect themselves from out attack, well, our comrades' attack. It looks like we are feth after all."

"What's the plan now?" asked Alastor. "I told you we should have barricaded ourselves in that building. At least we would last longer and inflict more losses on them." Valia felt her heart racing. If there were going to be a last stand, she would not tolerate. She did not want to die, but more than that, she did not want to die with the knowledge she would inevitably so. Troops sent to their death in hundreds had one thing last standers did not have – the slim hope of beating the odds and surviving yet another day, only to repeat the process onto the next.

"Damn it," Leitdorf groaned. "There has to be another way. That they have sorcery on their side is more reason for us to get…." He was cut off by a las round whizzing through the air between him and Mkeller.

"Sharpshooter, down!" Randy cried. Instinctively, the five Guards took cover while the Ogryn just stood out in the open dumbly. Another shot, more accurate than the first, scored a hit on his chest and put a hole on his shirt. The giant abhuman did not even feel that, though he cringed his nose at the smoke coming from the burned fabric.

Mkeller popped out his long-las, took aim and fired. The enemy sniper was sixty meters away, hidden and camouflaged in a five-level apartment. Hit, the headless Chaos soldier fell out of the window. All these motions happened in three heartbeats. Valia was astonished at the Tanith's marksmen skill. If only there were more like that on Cadia, then fatality from friendly-fire would be reduced significantly.

"More are coming," said Leitdorf as other groups of cultists rushed from all direction. There were as many as thirty of them dressed in garish costumes like a crowd participating in a parody that made Leitdorf look like the grimmest being ever. Some were holding weapons confiscated from dead Guards and Khornate Warrior while others brandishing makeshift weapons ranging from baseball bat with nails to banana. "Alastor, set up and mow them down. Gutsman,…just do whatever you find necessary to stay alive. Let's show these heretics the wrath of the Emperor, men."

"By the Emperor's will, it shall be done," replied Alastor, placing the heavy weapon on a tripod.

"Me follow orda!" the Ogryn shouted before charging headlong into the largest concentration of cultists. The massive brute scattered all around him, stamping mercilessly with his size 20 feet on those unfortunate enough not to get out of the way in time.

Valia and Mkeller fired their las weapon, knocking a few heretics off their feet. The autocannon opened up on the enemy and slaughtered them in droves. Still, the Chaos lunatics came, heedless of their life and that of their comrades. Event those wounded on the ground were crawling while laughing in pained ecstasy. Leitdorf shot one in the face and sliced the cord of the second with his power sword. Randy melted a heretic with his melta pistol. Another came at him, swinging his banana. The Catachan blocked it with his mouth, biting a huge chunk of the fruit including the peel and swallowed it whole. Like an imbecile, the cultist looked at what had become of his weapon, a second before two large hands grasped his head and twisted it 180 degree with the ease of spinning a top.

The wave of Chaos fanatics did not seem to stop. No matter how many were cut down, more took their place. For their credits, the Imperials held their ground valiantly and showed no sign of giving in either. This was exactly what they were born and trained for. When the time came, not a single one of them wanted to be found wanting. Even Valia would play to its tune till the very end, her spirit galvanized by the uplifting aura from her comrades.

It was a very good day to die.

"For old Tanith! For Verghast! And for the fury of Belladon!"

"In the name of beloved Fatherland Mordia!"

"Catachan approves this one!"

"Eternal glory to Cadia!"

"In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement."

"WAAAAARGH!"


Author's note: I hope that you will know which warcry belongs to whom. I try out something new about the Guards here, not only using mulitiple regiments rather than one but also develop a main character who is a coward, not a heroic coward like Ciaphas Cain, just an ordinary girl who did not want to die horribly in the grimdark future.