"Do you know why we fight, Aradiel?" A ghostly voice spoke to him.

He stood with another Brother of the Chapter, standing at a balcony that oversaw the bow of a frigate, The Pain of Torment. The balcony had windows that reached up to the heavens, with arches that wrapped around it as if it was intrinsically linked. The arches themselves were a masterwork, images of angels and cherubs gracing every stroke of the arch, before coming to a point of a sword. The architecture featured plenty of bone white colours, with smidges of greys and blacks, with golds dissecting and separating them into their own little worlds.

The view that these windows enshrouded was the entire spine, from the quarterdeck to the bow of the ship. It spanned on until the architecture at the bow of the ship was mere pinpricks of light, as if the ship itself was a crawling city of a civilisation that was in its golden age. In the distant starlight, the ship's gun muzzles glowed with a menacing black tinge, while the missile silos slumbered until they were needed again.

From below, a deep thrum resonated in the superstructure of the frigate from the engines propelling the craft through space, creating a near imperceptible vibration in the floor. The ostentatious architecture spanned across the whole ship, and the command structure featured a spiked structure, much like a turret of a castle.

There was the ever present burning of incense. Aradiel took a deep breath, a mental signal ordering his helmet to open the filters, and was flooded with a cornucopia of smells. Cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and a tinge of lavender, all assaulted his sense while he felt his muscles began to loosen from the smell.

It reminded him of home somewhat, there was always cinnamon on the breeze from the stalks of the plant that would span thousands of kilometres, as they roasted in the hot sun. His mind then took a darker turn, to see those stalks blazing for all he could see. That smell turning into a choking feeling that clawed at his lungs.

"-diel? Aradiel, are you okay?" He jerked, turning to the source of the voice.

The Brother-Chaplain himself stood to his left. His armour was did not show any signs of battle, the pauldron that represents his Chapter's Sigil glinted in the dull light, his powerpack's exhausts humming at a different frequency to the ship, his Crozius hanging loosely from his hip while candles burnt like incense on the top of his powerpack.

"Yes I am quite alright, Brother-Chaplain. I was just reminiscing…" Aradiel muttered more to himself than to the Chaplain, who stared at him slightly before turning his attention back to the window.

"I asked you, do you know why we fight?" He spoke again, his

He pondered in thought, closing his eyes. "We fight for a multitude, Brother-Chaplain. I know we as a Chapter fight for the innocent humans who make up the Imperium, but as a Chapter to the Imperium, we also fight to ensure the continuation of the Imperium."

"I see you've thought about this in depth." The voice causing him to open his eyes, to see into that deathly smiling skull that made up the Chaplain's helmet.

"Why shouldn't I? It is the reason why I exist, am I not allowed to think for or of the things that I am fighting for?"

"Of course not, it is just for some, the reason for fighting can be as simple as serving the Emperor's will. For other's they need a more intrinsic reason to continue fighting… So tell me Aradiel… What do you fight for?"

"I…" He stopped, a sudden burden on his mind. "I do not know." He finally said, looking to that skull-faced visage. "Is that what you are here for? To find out if I'm worthy to continue serving as a Lamenter?"

He was met with a bark of laughter. "Oh by the Emperor no! But I can see where that might come from… But no. I am talking to you, so that you know what you know, and what you need to know. We all need a reason to fight, Aradiel, and it's not wrong to find another reason than just fighting for the Emperor."

Aradiel stayed silent for a moment. "And what do you fight for, Brother-Chaplain?"

"I… I fight for my home planet, where I came from before I became one of his Angels. I do not know if misfortune has befallen upon it. So I fight for either it's memory, or its continuation." He finished, stepping to his left and looking up the hallway, a loud thudding echoing in the halls.

Aradiel also turned towards the sound and looked down that same hallway. Their curiosity was rewarded as a large robotic shape moved towards them. It went at a walking pace, but both Astartes knew that the metallic beast could break into a thunderous lope at any second.

It stopped just behind them and peered down, looking from one to the other. "Brothers, what is the meaning of this?" It rumbled, but its tone was friendly.

"Forgive me, Brother Amadius. We were just discussing private matters between us." Aradiel bowed his head in respect to the dreadnought. It was clear to see that this dreadnought was well respected, as multiple purity seals and gold filigree dotted his body and sarcophagi. For his left arm he had a monstrous claw that could crush anything that was unlucky enough to be in its grasp, and Aradiel could see a pilot light flaming softly underneath the fist.

For its right arm it had a massive gatling cannon that was the size of Aradiel himself. Inspecting the gun with some interest, he saw the slight tinge of oil and purity seals on the weapon. "Did you just come from the Techmarine, brother?"

"Why yes indeed, it is good for me to get ready for the battle ahead. I trust you two are aware of what will be happening within the hour, no?"

"Why yes of course Brother. Aradiel and I were having the conversation in preparation of the fight ahead. It is good to see the Chapter filled to strength again, it warms my hearts to realise that our legacy and that of our forefathers shall not be lost."

The machine bursts into laughter. "I will not allow such a thing to happen, do not worry Chaplain! Today we shall make many more legends. Oh how I wish to feel the weak blood of heretics run between by fist. Such filth wouldn't even put out the pilot light to my flamer. It will be a good battle indeed!"

The Chaplain turned to Aradiel. "Do you not have a battle to prepare for as well?" He asked, his head tilted slightly.

Aradiel shook himself out of his reverie and nodded. "Y-yes… I do. I must also make contact with my squad, as far as I'm concerned we're being dropped as a bolt rifle squad. But I didn't realise you were going to join in Amadius." He said, turning to the large beast.

"Mmm yes, it is rather peculiar. Command is concerned about greater demons on this deployment, so they're sending me as reassurance." The voice rumbled, the machine's powerpack hummed loudly, as if outwardly displaying the mood of its pilot.

"Then I must make haste and prepare… Brother Chaplain… Ancient Amadius." He bowed his head to both and turned and made his way to the barracks.

He trudged through the halls, watching the walls depicting battles won and lost. The Sisters crying over the Banner of Tears, Brother Chiron burning Xenos in his formidable dreadnought, the Marines Malevolent leaving the Lamenter's forefathers to a grizzly fate and many more. Every inch of the walls was adorned with similar artwork, ever so detailed that battle damage such as knicks and bullet holes were mere pin pricks on the canvas, but they were placed with such care and skill they were considered as important as the artwork as a whole.

The ship itself vibrated with life. There was always the ominous hum of the engines, and servitors droned past while servo-skulls hovered on their predetermined paths. Techpriests and other members of the Mechanicus would animatedly discuss in their Binaric Cant, the sound was like a grater against Aradiel's eardrums.

The hallways would be constantly lit with candles and other forms of lighting. Some candles had a use, such as purification wards that led down to armouries or were created to strengthen and clear the mind, which lead to the staging area.

Regular human servants would rush past him, but always gave a second to bow their head, as a god walked amongst them so casually. They were truly blessed, for the vast majority of the Imperium's citizen's do not know the existence of the Adeptus Astartes, they'd be considered a mere myth that would be whispered as reverently as the God Emperor himself.

The lighting had tinge itself with red, and a dull klaxon rang. "Adeptus Astartes of the Frigate, The Pain of Torment, prepare for combat drop. I repeat, prepare for orbital drop."

Aradiel began running in a lope that ate metres within seconds, candles and servitors going past in a blur, people would scream and exclaim in horror and surprise while he sped past them, all but a yellow blur to their mortal reflexes. He ran for a few minutes before coming to a massive blast door, the tops reaching up high into the ceiling, multiple candles and waxed seals covered every inch of the door, incense burnt a haze in the hallway. He waited for a few seconds before it opened up to reveal a hangar that defied understanding, so great was its size. The ceiling disappeared into darkness, and a Knight was seen in the corner, powered and fully operational.

He took his attention away from the god-machine, to see thousands and thousands of servitors, servants, menials and everything in between, run between squads of Space Marines, giving them their arms and armour, rubbing sanctified oil in their joints while the Marines themselves spoke their battle prayers and burnt incense over their weapons, hoping to appease their machine spirits.

His reverie was broken by a dull-minded servitor approaching him with a large box, placing it on the ground and opening it. Inside revealed his personal armoury of choice. He looked at his choices, before grabbing a Bolt Rifle and loading it with the formidably large magazines that it came with. He then grabbed more ammunition, placing them in the pouches that adorned his armour. Once he was satisfied, he then took a sanctified plasma pistol, its blue hue broken up by slight tinges of green on the upper curves of the cooling coils, before he turned it off and mag clamped it to his thigh. Finally he took out a chainsword, the teeth glistening from sanctified oil and evidence of sharpening, chips and knicks and scratches to the paintwork on the faceguards revealed the dull silvery metal underneath. This, he slid it in its large scabbard, and hung that from his utility belt.

He looked at the rest of the equipment and felt a tinge of longing. He felt the compulsion to take one of the more powerful weapons, like a powersword or a power fist. But he new that he must outfit himself to the mission. 'Other opportunities to utilise such weaponry will come in the future.' He finally took a relic that was shaped like a box, and the inside contents rattled. He hung this also from his utility belt. This relic was an appeasement autoreliquary that would bless and sanctify any man-made weapon he would touch in combat. It saved him much time and effort in taking the time to connect with his weapon, as he wouldn't have to burn incense or to spend time to ensure that the weapon would work whenever he held it.

Once he was properly outfitted, the servitor took the armoury away, allowing him to approach his battle squad. Nine marines all stood in unison and looked at him with rapt attention.

"Greetings brothers. We have a mission ahead of us that will certainly test our mettle. We will deploy to the surface and eliminate the heretical threat that plagues the innocent people down below. We are going to be facing a force comprised mainly of cultists, but we have heard of reports of heretic Astartes."

Every man in the squad tensed up at the mention of their heretical brethren. They were all Primaris, and were not around for the Horus Heresy. Still, they felt the fury that Sanguinius fought with at Eternity Gate on that fateful day, they felt that fire course through their veins. They would have their vengeance.

"We will insert with an orbital drop pod, and Ancient Amadeus will be deployed with us to ensure that any greater daemon will be dispatched with ease."

He looked between every helmet of his space marines, and felt their stares bore into his. They awaited his command.

"Brothers! We will destroy the heretics and burn their remains until even memories of their existence is but dust to the cosmos! Let us seal their fate in the same way that we, The Lamenters, who have never back down from a challenge, have done so ever since the birth of our Chapter! For Humanity! For the Emperor! For Sanguinius!" He roared, holding his bolt rifle high in the air, his brothers matching his enthusiasm with vox enhanced roars.

"For those we cherish! We die in glory!"

"For those we cherish! We die in glory!"

Aradiel woke with a start, his hand drifted to his left thigh before calming down and taking in his surroundings. Chains rattled with his movement, causing him to stare up and see that he was strapped up like a marionette. He let out a disgusted growl.

"What have you done to me!? I am an Adeptus Astartes! I WILL NOT BE CHAINED!" He reached up and tore the chains off the ceiling, dropping a few feet to the floor with a loud thud. Immediately a security detail of heavily armed soldiers came out of a reinforced bulkhead and pointed their guns at him. His helmet already scanned their weapons, and seeing explosives in their ammunition, decided to not provoke any more movement. He stood up to his full height, almost reaching 11 foot, and stared down at the soldiers with his eye lenses radiating murderous energy.

His fists clenched to stop his arms from shaking, and he attempted to throttle down his powerpack despite the AI's warnings of necessary performance enhancement. He knew that he could kill at least half of them before a third of them could react, their necks would snap with a twitch of his wrist. Their heads would crush with but slight pressure from his fist.

"You are lucky I am not a Flesh Tearer, you wouldn't have even made it into this room." He spoke, venom laced in his tone.

"You are to stand down." The base commander came through the door, staring up at him with as much courage as one could muster in this situation.

"Blast your orders! I do not recognise your authority! Why did you have me chained up!?" While he spoke, he smelt the faint scent of ammonia and sulfur. A wicked grin pursed his lips behind his helmet. "Speak now, before I finish what I started."

"We saw that you fell into sort of coma, we couldn't risk having you hurt yourself or to forget where you were. So we had the doctor check you out as much as they could and transferred you here, where if you did fall into a state of psychosis, the damage would be limited."

"When did I fall unconscious?" Aradiel demanded, jabbing a finger at the woman.

"It was briefly after the base had been secured… The doctor deduced that your body went into a form of hibernation to allow it to fight the wound you received. We placed you in this room so that you may be undisturbed, we could not remove the armour so we couldn't place you in our medical tanks, so this is the best we could do."

"Hanging me from chains in an isolated room? Do forgive me if I don't believe such nonsense. Where are my weapons?" Aradiel demanded.

"They are kept safe in the Armoury behind a safe door."

"I am leaving." He said with finality, pushing past the Commander and ducked underneath the doorframe, already heading towards the Armoury. The marines attempted to stop him, but they were leaves to his bulk and form.

His thudding footsteps rang in the hallways, people staring at the demigod in yellow armour, his demeanour draining the colour in their faces.

A familiar figure came out of a door and turned around looking up at him. "Aradiel, what are you doing? What happened?" Marlow asked, her brow creased in trouble while Aradiel just walked past her.

Not to be dissuaded however, she began running to catch up, walking quickly at elbow height. "Aradiel, please talk to me, what happened?"

"When were you going to tell me that you imprisoned those that help you?" He said, continuing to walk. Only fools stop to talk.

"What do you mean? What happened?" She asked again, her face perturbed.

"I was chained up like an animal, disarmed like a criminal and when I woke up I had to tear myself free and was immediately treated like a threat, you sad humans pointing your weapons at me as if I hadn't sacrificed for your safety." His gruff voiced reverberated from his helmet.

She felt his growling in her chest and made her mind jolt in fear. Was he angry? Was he fuming? Was he outraged? How close was he to letting loose with his anger? "I-I do apologise for that Aradiel, I don't know what to say, I've never known the Base Commander to be so… short-sighted with her decisions."

"Yes well that hardly matters right now, does it? I'm leaving, I can find my way home without you sad humans fighting over scraps." Aradiel thundered while he approached the armoury. A guard stepped ahead and held his hand up.

"I am sorry but I cannot allow you to enter."

"On whose authority? You realise that you are withholding the property of the Adeptus Astartes, the technology of the Adeptus Mechanicus and the weapons owned by the Lamentors!?"

The guard blanched and went deathly pale as the Marine's wrath was directed solely upon him, causing Marlow stepped forward. "Just let him have his weapons, if he was going to hurt us he would've done it already."

The guard worked his mouth without making a noise, before clearing his throat. "U-Uhhh I do apologise Lieutenant, but we are under direct orders to allow no one to enter the Armoury to retrieve his weapons, by order of Base Commander."

"That's right." The high authoritarian voice came from behind, causing both Marlow and Aradiel to turn and face it. "I have locked your weapons for the time being."

"So you would prevent me from leaving?" Aradiel suggested to her, taking half a step forward, his fist clenching tightly.

The Base Commander held up her hand in an attempt to ease him. "I need your help one last time, after this I will not prevent you from doing what you need to do, on that you have my word."

Aradiel stared at the woman, his eyelenses a vicious red. He stood there in silence, half contemplating and half staying silent.

"Please Gray-."

"Commander Gray, lieutenant Marlow. You are still on duty."

"Commander Gray… Please do treat him with the respect he deserves. He is still human, isn't he? Shouldn't we at least give him basic human decency?"

"He is a weapon Lieutenant, a weapon that has caused us grief and anguish. The sooner he gets out of my face the better, but I will not allow him to do whatever he wishes in my base."

Silence fell on the group again, Aradiel still staring at the base commander with lethal intent. "Fine." He spoke.

"I'm sorry?" The base commander asked, perplexed by his short sentence.

"I will complete your final task. What is it?"

"It's rather simple really. I need you to go out and find one out of scouting parties who have not been in contact with us in the past 48 hours. Normally this isn't something that we're worried about however with the recent events going on and with how bold the enemy has become, we feel that its necessary to act now."