Disclaimer: I do not own any grey knights (and it would be scary if I did), the Emperor does, and the Emperor is owned by Games Workshop. The baseline is that I don't own anything in this story, GW does. And don't sue me, because as so many other authors out there, I don't have anything worth taking.

Angel Wrath

The weather was still. The sky was, however, red. A deep red as of the red which would be most likened to blood. It seemed to flow, constantly in motion, although it was in fact very still. Then suddenly lightning struck from the sky, disrupting the otherwise peaceful battlefield.

And it had been very peaceful; it had actually been as peaceful as the grave itself. For the battlefield was scattered with the dead, freshly slain corpses littered the battlefield.

No mortal man had survived the battle. Each and every one was dead.

The charnel smell of human flesh beginning to roast slowly began to fill the air as the fire, which the lightning had started, spread among the dead. The smell mingled with the smell of blood, earth and slaughter that already had a powerful presence.

A single figure viewed the carnage, which the deaths of 10000 men had resulted in.

Because among the ruins of tanks and the corpses of men, there sat an old man.

He was wizened and gnarled, his old age clearly marked upon him. His grey- white hair hung loosely down his back. He was clad in a brown robe, nothing more. He carried no weapons, nothing, not even a staff to support his fragile old shell.

Suddenly the peace was again disturbed. The smell of ozone filled the air, and the old man felt as if his eardrums would burst. Then there was a great flash of light and he was momentarily blinded.

When vision returned, he was surrounded. All in all ten warriors stood in a circle about him.

But these were no ordinary warriors. They stood, six feet tall, clad in silver armour. Each suit of armour was unique. The detail was extraordinary; there was not a spot upon the armour that was not engraved with words of protection and litanies of faith. The engravings were however so small that it was impossible to see, more less, decipher. On the right wrist of each warrior, a twin-barrelled gun was armed. In the other hand a giant halberd, again engraved ornamentally. These weapons were psychically charged and energy enveloped the blade of the weapon. Upon each warrior were numerous pennants and scriptures, on which flowing letters praised the light and defied the dark. Upon the breastplate of each warrior, his personal copy of the Liber Daemonica had been placed.

Only three of the warriors differed. One did not have a halberd, but instead wielded a sword, which crackled with barely contained energy that outshined even that of the other weapons. The two other figures had no halberd and no wrist mounted gun, instead they both carried huge weapons, known as Psycannons, heavy machine guns that fired shells that were the antimatter of daemons.

All the ten warriors shinned like the sun itself. They were mankind's best, defenders of the good and pure, nemesis of the corrupt and evil. They were the chosen of the Emperor of Man, the greatest warriors out of a whole galaxy.

They were Grey Knights.

"If you're here for the battle, you are too late." The old man stated, his voice unafraid and ancient.

"Speak not onto me!" Said the leading Grey Knight, his voice clear and loud, amplified to painful heights by his aegis power armour. Amongst the silence of the battlefield, it rolled like a clear thunder.

"Now, now let us not be to hasty" said the old man, " Why don't we get to know each other before we shout like that?" The old man started to get up from his sitting position.

"Brothers, What form does the daemon take?" Sounded the question from the Justicar of the Grey Knights.

"All and every!" Answered the squad of Grey Knights in unison.

" Come now, let us talk, let us laugh and dance together." The old man suggested pleadingly, " Take of your armour and throw down your weapons, those are things of an age in which we do not exist, come now, why should we not be merry?"

The old man looked kind and giving, generous even. Any man would have given in to such proposals immediately. The Grey Knights however, were not ordinary men. They didn't even give thought to such useless suggestion.

"By What Shall We Know The Daemon?" The Justicar said.

"By Knowing Each And Every Form It Can Take!" The Knights replied.

The Grey Knights levelled their weapons and took aim.

"What Must Become Of The Daemon?" The Justicar spoke.

"It Must Be Banished And Sent Back To The Realm That Spawned It!" The Knights said.

The Grey Knights started advancing.

"With What Shall We Slay And Banish It?" The Justicar challenged.

"With Shell, With Bolt, With Holy Water, With Consecrated Fire, But Above All, With Faith!" The Grey Knights answered in perfect unison.

"I gave you the chance to surrender, but you have thrown it away!" The old man said, the fragility vanishing in seconds, his facial features twisted into a mask of bestial wrath. Suddenly he started to grow, wings sprouted from his back, glittering like a thousand captured stars, still the grey knights did not falter.

"Imperator Divini Absoluto!" The Justicar roared " Open Fire!"

The roar of bolters being fired rang out across the field. Weapons, which had never faltered, kept up the trend and fired shell after shell into the daemonic beast, which was evolving in front of their very eyes.

Great gashes were ripped across the daemons body, as bolts blessed and purified scored hits upon the daemon.

It gave a roar of pain, and bloodlust came into its eyes as it developed into the full form of a Lord of Change, Greater Daemon of Tzeentch, Changer of Ways, The Great Corrupter. Terror made the bodies of the dead move and the mere presence of the daemonic made the dead flesh rot and the grass wilt. Yet not one Grey Knight faltered.

Psycannon fire shredded the wings of the creature. As a response, it pointed its finger towards one of the heavy weapon bearers and from the palm of its hand green, blue, red, no all colours flew and enveloped the Knight. He didn't so quickly that he didn't even realise it until his soul was with his Emperor.

Three more Grey Knights fell, including the last heavy weapon, as they steadily advanced towards the now towering bemoth, which bore no resemblance to the old man anymore.

Now they closed on the daemon.

"In The Name Of Him On Earth, Imperator We Adore Thee, Charge!" The Justicar called out before he charged the daemon.

His brethren followed in perfect unison, chanting the Imperial Hymen of Imperator We Adore Thee flawlessly. The Brother Justicar reached the Daemon first, and barely avoided getting chopped in two by the daemon's talon. Darting around its guard, the Justicar distracted the Daemon by hacking its left leg of with three well-placed strokes.

The daemon quickly turned its head and tried to swallow the Justicar whole. He was, however, already rolling sideways away from the daemon, and therefore survived. The other Grey Knights took this opportunity to attack the daemon, and with all their strength, three of the Grey Knights swung their Nemesis Force Halberds in deadly arcs, slicing through the flesh of the daemon and succeeding in ripping of it's right arm. The daemon turned its attention back to them and squatted them with a backhand stroke.

One of the two remaining Grey Knights hurtled himself upon the daemons exposed back and using his halberd as an anchor, imbedding it in the daemons spine, he started to fire his storm bolter in its back with unnerving accuracy.

The Daemon responed to this by suddenly growing spikes out of its back, impaling the Grey Knight his voice dying of in the middle of the hymn.

The Justicar charged the daemon again slashing wildly with his sword, cutting of the most of the daemons left arm. Then the daemon used its magic again, and the suit of armour started to glow as with an inner light, for a short while the daemon and the Grey Knight battled with their wills. The daemon won and the Justicar was hurled to the ground, his weapon flying useless form his grasp. As the daemon was about to consume its prey, the final Grey Knight launched his Halberd like a spear. Singing the last verses of Imperator We Adore Thee and praying that his aim might be true, both Grey Knights watched as the Daemon was skewered and fell helpless to the ground, its remaining limb flailing wildly.

With a final effort of will the Justicar rose from his feet and collected his sword. His Brother Marine had fallen to his knees, his heads bowed in respect for the dead, but his voice singing the last verse of the hymn.

Brother Justicar Volrick walked up to the dying daemons, his throat still singing, and channelling all his remaining anger, hate and faith he thrust the blessed sword through the daemons skull, extinguishing its life upon the mortal plain.

Across the battlefield where ten Knights of the Emperor had succeeded in what 10000 men could not these words rang out:

"Imperator We Adore Thee!"

"Imperator We Adore Thee!"

"Imperator We Adore Thee!"

Then silence.

Authors Notes:

I was inspired to do this after the new Codex: Demonhunters came out. Their feel of holiness and righteousness just seemed to good to let pass, so I sat myself down and created this. Hope you like it, reviews would be appreciated, as this is primarily an attempt to find out if my writing is any good. On forehand, thanks.