Screaming oaths of hatred, the SS Sturmtroopers stormed across the slick icy fields of Russia, sub machine guns pinning Soviet soldiers into cover behind entrenchments formed of ice and snow. German artillery rained from the sky as of a tropical storm, relentlessly pounding and unearthing vast systems of entrenchments, torn bodies ripped from the earth and cast into the air in a cataclism of screams and pain. Tracers rounds glowed brightly through the dawn's haze, disappearing into the unknown or absording into flesh, as if bodies were black holes in the center of a vast universe of burning planteoids, hungerly consuming all matter. Burning tanks cast bright beacons of harsh light, unwittingly the focal points of seething battles as men homed unto the light as might insects seeking shelter from bitter cold.
Roaring forward, bodies scattering and joining corpses splayed along the earth, the German soldiers ran with the desperation of demented animals, desperate for a last fleetingly view of freedom. Completely surrounded on all sides by a relentless enemy dedicated to the singular destruction of all opposing life, a desire superseceding all others overcame the soldiers, packing their bodies full of natural stimulants and lending their tortured souls the courage to form a suicidial charge aimed at smashing from their cage of human flesh and bone. Images passed through all minds in a blur, the earth, bodies, tanks, weapons, and blood all blinding into a single maddening vista of war, a beautiful sight should one have viewed it from a dispassionate distance in relative comfort.
Hand grenades soared through the air, their trajectories angled and inexorably falling into trenchs and skidding over the armour of tanks. Detonations resounded, highlighting human figures writhing in agony, wreathed in the flames of harsh retribution. All other sights, sounds, and distractions were momentarily cast aside as the beautiful blossoms of light grew among the Soviet ranks. The moment was suddenly past, fleeting away in the voracious wind and disappearing into the minds of the many parties involved, to be stored away and recalled only after sleep had overtaken, twisting into nightmares that jarred the soul and forced the body to awake, shivering in the cold of memories.
All coherence of discipline and rational thought disappeared as Russian met German in the art of single combat, as fists, elbows, rifle butts, submachine barrels and helmets all became impromptu tools of close quarter engagment, each man losing all recognition of his surroudings as he focused his entire will in the act of overcoming his solitary counterpart. The fighting was often swift and brutal, one or another succumbing into the cold embrace of death, the conquer screaming and casting the vanquished into oblivion. In the expanse of fifteen heart beats the Russia entrenchments were overcome, all thoughts of fellowship cast aside as each man dashed forward across the gore stained fields, desperate for the taste of freedom.
Several hundred yards behind the assault wave rose a second, streaming toward the breach punched into the Soviets lines, the actions of the first waveguaranteeing a brief window of opportunity toesacpe. Rising up in a dark mass, boots sank deep into snow as hundreds dashed for freedom. Salvos of lead poured into soft flesh, hammering many figures into the numbing earth, but for all that fell, hundreds more took their place, streaming through the gap and sprinting to freedom. As the Soviets struggled to reseal the breach, thousands of Germans continued to pour in waves, escaping encirclement and destruction. Red officers roared in anger, recollecting the early months of the war as millions had been killed or captured by German thrusts, and all were desperate to exact vengence onto the enemy.
If any had tempted fate in a moment of inattention and glanced up into the sky, the faint outline of an enormous, sleek aircraft may have graced their sight as if flew over the action surrounding the German rear gaurd, cataloging tactics and equipment of the two forces bitterly engaged in the raging conflict below. A futuristic design, compiled with ultradense metal alloys yet to be discovered in an early time period as such, blazed in a lazy circle over the epicenter of the battle. Emblazoned in bold lettering, hymnals and praises to the Emperor of Mankind proclaimed from all corners of the aircraft of the indefatigible might of the Imperium and the undisputed clarity of faith toward the conquest of the Universe for the glory of Mankind. Heavy weapons bristled threatening, capable of dealing fatal damage at all angles of a approach, were tracking and computing range and ordinance required to destroy any hostile targets. The antiquity and majesty of such a craft would shame any modern pilot into an aweful silence.
Seated on the bare floor in the interior of the aircraft, a massive armoured form sat with its hooded helm tranfixed onto the floor directly at its feet. Writhing in awe, the figure seemed to have come under the grip of a fatal seizure, trembling as if in a limbo, trapped within a disaster confined within its own thoughts and feelings. Psychic power of epic porportions crackled around the figure's helm, white light dancing rythmatically and crackling in undisguised power. With a dexterity seemingly impossible to have acheived of such a massive body, two legs swiveled and pistoned into the air, propelling two hundred kilograms in a leap of pure exhiliration as the emotions pouring through his frame momentarily swept his rational mind away.
Opening clenched eye lids, the Blood Angels librarian roared in pain, a blast ofincrediblypure light ripping through theair and bathing all in a glorious halo of purity, and fell unconscious before the feet of a second warrior. Blown through the air in the face of an incredibly powerful shock wave, the librarian's counterpart quickly regained its balance and ran to his librarian. The marine craddled the librarian's head in a knee, exclaiming softly at the latent power wreathing the librarians body. Never had such power flowed with such clarity through the librarians body. Supernatural, almost to be compared to that of god.
Spittle frothed from the librarian's mouth,tinged with blood and raining onto the metalfloor of the psychic atrium sequesteredwithin the Ultramarine'sthunderhawk. Shallow breathes issued from the marine's mouth,the psychic exertion having temporarily overloaded the marine's limitations and casting him onto the brink of death. Minutes passed and theLibrarian began to breathe more easily. The concerned visage of his acolyte escaped into the haze of the Librarians consciousness, jolting him awake from the black recesses of his inner mind.
Coughing blood, the Blood Angels Librarian stood shakily to his feet, waving off the offered assistance from his protege. Moments passed, and the Librarian's eyes focused onto his surroundings, the wave of psychic purity that had momentarily slashed through his soul having ripped his strength from his body. A repentance of a lifetime of unworthiness had been cleasned in a single shock of power.
"Mathius", the librarian addressed his apprentice, his voicetrembling withemotion and awe, "We stand upon the brink of salvation...the Imperium will experience a new birth..."
The Librarian paused to collect his thoughts. "Mathius, I have opened my mind into the soul of this beleagured planet"
Mathius had stood in silence, but curiosity demanded, "I do not understand, Librarian"
A long paused followed, the Librarian seeming to have ignored Mathius's query, "A backlash of psychic purity subsequently followed and utterly destroyed the meticulous defenses shielding my mind. A-a being of such...purity should not exist in this universe...unless".
Mathius leaned forward, straining to hear his next words.
"...Unless...unless the Emperor of Mankind is among us"
Silence permeated the room, both men awed into silence. The Emperor. The single guiding beacon of faith for a population of trillions. A mythical creature, so to speak. A god incarnate. And from the the Librarian had stated, upon the year of 1942, on holy Terra, the Emperor walked among humans. Minutes passed, and the silence was finally broken.
"For the Emperor," Mathius exclaimed, the complex emotions seething within his breast permitting nothing other than a shocked exclamation.
"For the Emperor," the librarian nodded as a single tear ran down his cheek.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Please comment on my work. As one may have guessed, Space Marines had arrived in the past during the peak of World War II to find the Emperor of Mankind walking upon the earth. Subsequent chapters will go into more detail above the arrival of the Marines and their actions regarding their discovery.