Chapter 2: The Reuniter of the Dread Legion
Tynerion stood from his throne, the horrific structure of fused bone and brass shifting where his armoured weight had caused it to bend. He took his helm frome a baroque table,the helm itself wasa horrific death-mask, embossed with the brutal iconography of the blood god painted with a strange intricacy (using nothing but the most pure blood of the innocent) that matched the rest of his armour. Its trims and strange antler-like protrusions were edged with brass and the eyepiece lenses were a haunting green. His suit of power-armour was a work of art in its own twisted way. Writhing runes and corrupt icons were lovingly carved into its surfaces the overlarge shoulder plates bearing the skull-rune of the blood god and the fanged maw feasting on a planet of his legion. Chains, riveted to his armour, were lined with trophies, skulls of prominent foes, one for each conquest, one for every world burnt to ashes, one for every enemy fleet smashed, one for every rival crushed. There were over two dozen skulls across the corrupt mockery of power armour.
His face itself was rough not unhandsome and short cropped black hair sat on the top of his head. His eyes were the most prominent features though, storm-cloud grey and shone with a baleful light, the haunting eyes echoed the years of misery that this man had suffered and caused across his life. Alongside the baleful light the eyes shone with a barely controlled rage, even though the face itself was without expression the eyes expressed his hate, his rage and his utter contempt to life.
In one of his ceramite gauntlets was an ornate chainaxe, the brutal blades razor sharp and deep crimson energy played across the axe heads surface. The engine itself continuously let out a low growl, constantly wishing to be set loose in a tide of bloodshed. Holstered on his belt lay a perfectly crafted bolt pistol, the sigil of Khorne proud on its casing.
Tynerion was a World Eater, a son of Angron, one of the favoured of Khorne. He was more than that though, he was the great uniter, he, by strength of will alone had reforged the World Eaters legion, gathering many of the warbands that had existed since the breakup on Skalathrax and forming them together once more. He now commanded one of the most dangerous forces in the galaxy, and was now making an attack on the false emperor's realms. It was planned out to perfection. He had divided his armies of traitor marines, renegade guard and traitor titan units into massed attack groups who would strike the Imperium in a dozen subsectors at once. Millions would die in the initial push as berserkers landed in cities and slaughtered their pathetic population centres to a man. The Imperium would muster troops and fleets, but that would take time, and the bodycount that Tynerions host would inflict would keep rising to staggering levels as more and more worlds felt the bloody touch of the World Eaters.
Screaming klaxons gained Tynerions attentions as his fleet broke warp, stalking over to a viewport he saw something that made his black-heart's jump with glee, what he saw was the bloodied system of Armageddon.