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A daemon cohort of Khorne was usually the easiest to contain. Composed of eight packs of frenzied berserkers, led by a Herald of Khorne, one of the Lord of Skulls' chosen, their warrior madness frequently allowed for them to be routed into traps, split up or gunned down from afar. They typically employed little combat strategy, had almost no ranged units to speak of and were adamantly refused the power of the psychic arts. They were easy picking, relatively speaking.

Or so they would be for an entire Shield-Company. As it was, a Guardsman and a Contemptor-Achillus Dreadnought on their lonesome had the odds looking grim for them. Kronos was certainly not yet ready to die however, and he had the sneaking suspicion that Damocles felt the same.

"Any plans?" he asked as the horde grew closer, their approach heralded by their pledge to the Blood God and the Skull Throne that grew ever more frenzied throughout the ranks the closer they got to the fresh blood. Kronos revved up his Guardian Spear, while Damocles was doing similarly, his Bolters whirring to life once more as well while he reloaded them.

"I'll thin them out with cover fire. You deal the final blows up close. Do not lose awareness of your environment for even a moment. They are not above back shots."

"You're asking me to engage them in close quarters?" Kronos asked, aghast at the Dreadnought's strategy. "Are you not far more suited to such a role?"

"If I or my weapons are damaged or destroyed, our perimeter is gone. My job is to be the hammer, but I need you to be the scalpel," Damocles began charging his Las-Pulser once more as the horde was nearly upon them. "Our teamwork must be perfect. Reinforcements are not coming in time, and we are all that stands between them and countless laborers of the Mechanicum. We both know we cannot afford to waste even a moment more than necessary in this place before it is closed off."

Kronos found himself with wiggle room to argue, but their time was up, as Damocles signaled the start of the blood bath with his massive Las-Pulser discharging, releasing a crack that pulverized several daemons immediately, while his wrist Bolters littered several tens of them with Bolt holes.

"Engaging!" Kronos yelled at last, entering into the fray among the compromised ranks while making sure to avoid the general area where the Dreadnought was currently serving the Emperor's wrath. Swinging his Spear in a circular motion, two Bloodletters were decapitated while a third was bisected all in one fell swoop...which unfortunately gained the attention of six or seven more of the wretched Warp spawn.

First among them to strike was a larger, slightly brawnier one, who charged the Custodian with all of his might, locking his massive dual-wielded Hellbalde with Kronos' own Guardian Spear, pushing the Guardian back three or four meters before his advancement ground to a halt.

Kronos was not particularly amused at the tactic, though he did commend how the Bloodletter stood his ground, breaking their "stalemate" and going in for a swing. He decided to repay the creature's bravery by parrying the uncoordinated attack and shoving his spear into it's abdomen, driving it upwards and splitting the creature in two, spilling boiling daemon blood everywhere.

Not ones to appreciate a good kill, ironically enough, two more of the Bloodletters charged the Custodian. Jumping tens of meters into the air, the first seemed to be attempting an aerial beheading. It was summarily cut into a collection of limbs, guts and blood by impossibly quick swings from the Guardian Spear, dealing the Custodian's armor a fresh new coat of red paint atop his already stained gold. He was glad daemon blood tended to quickly burst into harmless Warp fire.

The other beast took a more traditional approach by simply aiming to dice the Custodian by swinging it's mighty blade at him. Unfortunately for it, Kronos was simply too fast, as he stopped the assault easily by a combination of his superior speed and strength, before pinning the blade to the floor with his Spear. The thing was such an enraged monster it could not even think to let go of the blade to free itself, instead opting to continue it's maddened screeching and struggle uselessly against the Custodian. It would have been almost sad, if Kronos hadn't had most of his potential for sympathy ripped from him the moment he became one of the Golden Legion. Using his free hand, he caught the creature by the throat, unsurprisingly finding that it began to gnaw on his armored forearm. Deciding to reward the valiant effort and his chipped armor, the Custodian pulled his hand upwards with barely any effort, tearing bone, sinew and flesh to itty pieces, ripping the thing's head off along with portion of spine and sending it flying as a gory firework, with it's launching sparkles being a rain of crimson showering the battlefield further.

As Damocles had said however, the daemons were not interested in playing in fairness. Blood was blood, skulls were skulls, and their patron was not picky how and why these offerings were extracted, as long as it was done forcefully. So Kronos found himself beset on all sides from the four remaining Bloodletters. As the daemons descended before him, the Custodian engaged in a deadly dance that required much of his unrivaled skill and reflexes, as his Guardian Spear's Bolt Caster finally shone to life.

Meanwhile, Damocles' blockade was working. Any daemon that managed to miraculously escape his barrage either through sheer luck or inhuman determination quickly found itself cut apart by his Dreadspear or simply ground to bloody dust by underneath his feet. However, something was still amiss. Among the sea of daemons that were dropping easily enough, there was no Herald. That worried Damocles. He knew a leading figure of some sort had to be heading the cohort. They simply did not operate like this without one.

His worry was not compounded when at last, the leader did make himself known.

The legions of daemons were mighty adversaries indeed, but to an average Custodian the Lesser ones were only slightly more than simple fodder on their lonesome. Hordes such as this could challenge even Dreadnoughts, but ultimately, with enough firepower they could be cut down fairly easily. And then there were the Heralds. Far from being any ordinary Bloodletter, these ravenous warriors had been handpicked by Khorne and put through innumerable trials throughout thousands of years of warfare. They were the living saints of the Blood God, and the mightiest among them could even outmaneuver a Custodian.

And as his lenses zoomed in on the newly arrived beast, he knew such a Herald had graced them with it's foul presence. Powerfully built, towering over it's fellows and wielding a massive burning claymore, it's Blade of Blood made a terrifying customization to better invoke it's wrath. No doubt a Sacred Executioner, the mightiest of Khorne's Heralds, made in the flesh. Exactly what Damocles had feared.

"Kronos, the leading Herald has arrived. Leave the horde to me, your priority is taking him down. Without directive, the daemons will fall into disarray." Damocles was too busy issuing the order to notice that the presence of the Herald had already drove the Bloodletters' rage into a fever pitch. More daemons were making it through his wall of fire, lost limbs and full body lacerations merely pain fueling their rage, speeding their advance even further. Eventually, enough made it through the blockade to dogpile on the massive Dreadnought, tipping him over and using any possible part of their body to inflict some sort of harm. "Grrr!"

Kronos raised his spear, short in breath, the bodies of ten more Bloodletters at his feet for merely a moment, a moment ended when they burst back into the psychic cacophony they had been birthed of. "Damocles? Damocles, respond!"

"I'm fine! I can handle myself. I just need you to take care of the Herald," more and more thumping noises littered the Vox-comm, inhuman screeches and sickening crunches accompanying them. "It's the best way you can help me right no-Ghhh..."

Kronos wanted to help him, but he knew that he was right. He also knew the only reason the Warp spawn had even managed to make it through the unending stream of hellfire the Dreadnought could provide was because of the Herald. Fortunately for him, it was moving exactly his way. Tall, lean and looking more than ready to rip anything that stood in it's way apart, the daemon struck a commanding presence among his lower-ranking brethren, Bloodletters scuttling away from him in fear of being flayed alive.

"AT LAST, ANOTHER CUSTODIAN. ONE AT THE PEAK OF HIS POWER. THIS...SHOULD BE QUITE INTERESTING"

"And what do they call you, wretch?"

"THE NAME CANNOT QUITE BE SPOKEN IN YOUR TONGUE, MATERIAL. BUT YOU MAY CALL ME NGRYNTHIS, EATER OF SOULS. AND SUNDERER OF YOUR FLESH."

"Perhaps in your wildest dreams, abomination. But today you fall to the Emperor's might"

"OH, WE'VE FIRSTHAND EXPERIENCED HOW "EFFECTIVE" YOUR EMPEROR'S MIGHT WAS ONCE BEFORE THIS DAY ALONE. I TRULY DO HOPE YOU ARE ABLE TO ENTERTAIN ME BETTER THAN YOUR FELLOW. BUT BEFORE I TAKE YOUR SKULL, CARE TO SHARE YOUR NAME? IT WOULD MAKE FOR A BETTER TROPHY."

"The name is Kronos Praesul of the 41st Shield-Company of the Legio Custodes, foul daemon. And you may go ahead and test yourself against my Spear. But I warn you, you will break yourself upon me."

"WE SHALL SEE, KRONOS OF THE CUSTODIANS," the daemon lifted his claymore, releasing a short hushed screech, before swinging the weapon above his head and beginning his advance, building up his momentum into a full blown sprint, as an inhuman sound describable only as the sound of Hell bellowed forth from it's mouth.

The Custodian met his charge with not the slightest fear, himself bursting forward with speed impossible to grasp by normal human eyes. The two marauders meet in the middle of the slight open plain the complex crown of tunnels opened up to, their mighty weapons clashing with such intensity so as to cause a visible shockwave, dust and ash being catapulted hundreds of meters by their single blow. The Guardian and the daemon then engaged in complex dance of blocks and dodges, parries and deflections, moving with inhuman swiftness and coordination.

The Bloodletters around them seemed uninterested in helping their leader. If anything, Kronos could've sworn he saw the slightest tinge of fear upon their disgusting personas, perhaps them finally realizing through the haze of endless rage that the Custodian was a different warrior that what they had been accustomed to, matching their commander blow after blow. Or perhaps it was simply the fact that the Herald had marked the Custodian as his own, and any attempts on his life or in assisting Ngrynthis would result in a violent retaliation. However, their battle lust, as per always, was never satisfied, as the Bloodletters rushed towards the only other target in the general area: Damocles.

Now being dogpiled by several dozen of the crazed blood-hungry beasts, even he found himself barely able to move, their sheer mass and momentum keeping him down. The mighty Dreadspear lay several meters to his right, one of the few acts of wisdom he had ever seen the monsters partake in, as his Bolters had run out of ammo and were currently also being torn to shreds. He knew his armor would hold, it was made to shrug off stomps from Titans, but he was currently stuck. And sooner or later, they would find some way to disable him.

Meanwhile, Kronos wanted to assist Damocles with his predicament, but he was far too busy with a daemon of his own. The Herald was proving himself every bit as fierce of an opponent as his boisterous bragging had suggested, each sword strike calculated and efficient, meant to cripple the Custodian rather than kill him immediately. He found surprise that such an inhumane creature, especially one of Khorne's, could be capable of such strategic assault, especially in the thick of a fight.

Damocles on the other hand found himself with a completely different problem, one of quantity rather than quality, as his patience for the horde began to grow thinner. Thankfully, with a bit of stealthy maneuvering, elbow grease and good old luck, he managed to slip one of his artificial arms from the grasp of what he could only assume should've been a dozen or so Bloodletters, grabbing and crushing three of them immediately with his massive palm, while the another half a dozen were maimed by the energy field of his Power Fist. Now the stalemate had been broken, one of his limbs free working towards freeing the others, shattering bone and ripping flesh in the process.

Kronos' fighting with Ngrynthis had led them further away from the main branch of the Webway sector, into one of the tunnels located on the ground floor. He had found that he had to keep mobile in order to not fall prey to the daemon. He was swift, brutal and unrelenting in his assault, to the point where the Custodian could barely maintain an edge through sheer skill. A sword strike from the left blocked by the body of his Spear, as a clawed appendage nearly made it's way into his throat, stopped inches away by his armored forearm. Dodging the next blow by the mighty Blade of Blood, the Custodian jumped a good six meters, completely unimpeded by his armor coming in at hundreds of kilograms, and let the momentum of gravity deliver a bone shattering strike with the hilt of his Spear, which nonetheless was blocked by the daemon's dual wielded weapon...just as Kronos had wanted, as he swung in circular motion, bringing the monomolecular tip mere inches from the creature's abdomen, only for the thing to display it's mind-boggling speed once again by moving away at the last moment, establishing a tad of distance between the two as it's mouth opened and it spoke with the same infernal voice:

"QUITE IMPRESSIVE, CUSTODIAN. I HAVEN'T FELT SO AWFULLY DELIGHTED BY A BATTLE IN A LONG TIME. PERHAPS THE BLOOD GOD MAY EVEN ALLOW ME TO KEEP YOUR SKULL WHEN I AM DONE WITH YOU. IF IT IS SO, I PROMISE TO CHERISH IT FOR ALL TIME TO COME."

Kronos shrugged off it's attempts at intimidation, instead utilizing his brief break to go over his opponents weaknesses and strength, surveying his body for potential crippling shots and readying himself for the next assault. What he was not prepared to hear was the roaring thunder of what could only be described as hundreds of Warp spawn being ripped a new orifice. Huh, I suppose Damocles managed to free himself after all.

Ngrynthis on the other hand, seemed less worried about his companions and more intently focused on prying the Custodian's skull off, be it dead or alive. Kronos assumed the later was preferable however, as the Herald charged him once more. He was ready as well, parrying the first strike from the claymore, before avoiding the clawed hand arm swinging at his face. Surely the second of those would not have dealt significant damage, however Kronos was not ready to lose an optic lens and potentially an eyeball over a gamble, as he brought his Guardian Spear down once again upon the Warp spawn, only to miss again due to his target's supreme reaction time, as the daemon wasted no time in pulling it's own blade back and thrusting towards him. Kronos managed to dodge this one as well, but only just barely, receiving a superficial burning scrape to his armor oblique section, feeling the sheer heat of the Blade of Blood even through the thick layers of auramite-alloy.

Kronos knew he had to act decisively now or he would lose. While neither he nor his opponent had reached any sort of straining point of their stamina yet, he knew well enough to see that just as he was studying, learning from him, so too was the wretch doing the same. That last attack had cut it a bit too close for his comfort, and the moment to end it was right here and now. He needed a plan.

Unfortunately, Ngrynthis seemed entirely disinterested in leaving him even a moment of breath, as the daemon once again charged with renewed vigor. To think he needed to keep the thing busy for a little while, and so, for a second time his Bolt Caster roared to life as a stream of deadly projectiles ripped through the air towards their target. He found it unsurprising that none of them hit their mark, the majority being avoided by the daemon, while some outright being deflected thanks to his blade. Even a regular Astartes was capable of reacting and dodging hypersonic weapon fire, so a daemon on par with a Custodian would likely have zero issues emulating such sharp reactions. Thankfully for him, the daemon still had to actively preoccupy himself with said evasive maneuvers as he thought of the final blow to end their confrontation.

Ah, yes. He had his strategy now. His Bolter fire ceased at last. It would be risky, perhaps even suicidal, but at this point the Custodian was past such things. This Herald could absolutely not be allowed to live. He had already downed one Custodian, and much as Kronos hated to admit, was on the cusp of doing the same to him as well. With a final reassuring grip of his Guardian Spear, the Custodian at last charged at the daemon, ready to make his final stand. Ngrynthis in turn took his battle stance, ready to meet the assault head on, his resolve to disembowel the transhuman warrior with his own final blow solidified. He could not anticipate what came next.

The Custodian jumped into the air once more, doing a backflip roughly 10 meters above the Herald's head, his flawless acrobatics not impeded at all by his bulky armor. Landing and balancing precariously on a single arm, the Custodian found that he did not have to maintain the awkward position for long, as within a microsecond the daemon had adapted and seen through his strategy, turning around at breakneck speeds, fully intent on delivering a killing strike. Just as planned.

Kronos propelled himself a few feet into the air with his arm, the burning Blade of Blood just barely missing his head, the radiant heat detectable even through his reinforced helmet. In that instant, mustering all of his speed and strength, the Custodian turned his body 90°, now giving the daemon a literal sideways glance while still in mid-air, as the the creature retracted his sword once again for another swing, while the Custodian readied his spear.

Both weapons thrust at speeds incomprehensible to unaugmented visual receptors, but ultimately, Kronos was simply faster and his weapon's reach was longer. The Guardian Spear slammed into the daemon's body, all it's built-up energy impacting the Herald with the strength of a rampaging Titan, sending it flying tens of meters, splattering it's guts everywhere as it's body was torn to pieces by the sheer force of the attack, it's own blade perhaps almost tragically missing the Custodian by only inches once more, as said Guardian lamented on how many close calls he had had this day alone.

At last landing from his temporary levitation, the killing blow he had delivered, what would have looked as a blur lasting barely a fraction of second to an outside observer, had left him mentally exhausted, normally inconsequential timeframes having been morphed into agonizingly long moments of near-death by his enhanced senses. Yet the Custodian could not allow himself even a sliver of rest, as he had to examine the body. One never knew what to expect with daemons, especially one as impressive as what he had just faced.

He found it disemboweled into several chunks, some limbs, and the daemon's own head. All were slowly disintegrating into Warp fire. Good. The first uplifting news he had seen today. And by the sounds of it, or rather, lack of sounds, he'd imagined Damocles had managed to repel the daemonic horde. That, or they've already killed him and moved on to another outpost while I was distracted.

He shook his head. No, that could not be possible. Damocles was not so easily beaten. He had over three centuries as Dreadnought under his belt to prove as such. Yet, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease, one that was not helped by the fact that the daemon's face was yet alive, barely holding out against the fire consuming it, a look of resigned failure on it's face.

"QUITE SHAMEFUL OF ME TO NOT SEE THROUGH THAT ROUSE. I SUPPOSE I DID BITE MORE THAN I COULD CHEW HOWEVER," was that...melancholy he could detect in it's voice? "ALAS, IT SEEMS IT WILL HAVE TO BE ANOTHER, MORE WORTHY ONE THAT CLAIMS YOU TODAY. I LOOK FORWARD TO THAT CHAMPION RETURNING TO THE BRASS CITADEL."

The statement hit like a Terminator Power Fist to the gut. "What? What are you saying daemon? What do you mean by "more worthy one" and "today"?"

"DID YOU TRULY THINK OUR ATTACK WOULD COMPRISE ONLY A SINGLE COHORT? RIGHT AT THIS INSTANT, SEVEN MORE COMPRISING A FULL LEGION OF BLOOD ARE HEADING HERE, CUSTODIAN," the thing was nearly entirely consumed by Warp fire, only the mouth barely remaining. How the thing managed to still converse was something beyond the Custodian. "I ONLY TELL YOU THIS BECAUSE YOU PROVIDED ME AN EXHILARATING FIGHT. I HOPE YOU MAY BATTLE TO YOUR DYING BREATH. NO OTHER FATE WOULD BE FITTING."

The last remnants of his body burned away into the hell it had come from, but Kronos was far too busy to notice. Legion of Blood. Eight cohorts. Based on the one already encountered, around 88 daemons per cohort. Cohort leaders: Heralds of Khorne. All likely equal or superior in skill to the one already encountered. Plus a Bloodthrister, a Greater Daemon not to be engaged without a full Shield-Company under any circumstance.

The logical part of his brain was saying these statements, it was examining the facts in cold, calculating fact, but the rest of his mind was geared into overdrive. The sudden realization that all that he and Damocles had fought for this day was for naught. That they would die, overrun by the coming horde and at best able to inform their already tired and depleted Company, who would likely be unable to receive reinforcements.

And yet again, by some inconceivable tzeentchian lottery, Kronos suddenly heard IT. The sound of the depths of warrior Hell itself, unleashed as physical strength across the the numerous tunnels of the Webway. It had to be IT. There was no other explanation.

Kronos steadied himself, tightening his grip on his Spear. I am going to die here. It was acceptable. He had been trained for this moment, to face death with dignity and battle until his last bone was broken, his last organ punctured, his last artery cut. He never expected it would be this day, off all days that would result in him giving his final service to the Emperor.

Then again, when was one ever ready for their own death? he realized pondering any further upon the subject served him in absolutely no way. The horde was growing closer, he could hear it. But, as he aimed his Spear at the incoming storm, ready to charge into battle one final time, he remembered a critical detail about the very area he was dying to defend:

It was unstable. Extremely unstable.

Reinvigorated by a sudden idea, the Custodian broke off into an inhuman sprint, the first and last time he had ever ran away from a confrontation. Covering hundreds of meters in only a few seconds, he found himself back at the large opening he had been stationed at. There, thankfully, Damocles stood tall and proud, albeit looking worse for wear, numerous scratches and dents upon his mighty frame, his Bolters ruined, but ultimately still alive. The remains of the daemonic horde he had slaughtered had likely already disintegrated. But on his right was the true object of his interest, his mighty Dreadspear, still not reclaimed. Kronos rushed to it, not even bothering to check in on Damocles despite his calls to him, instead focusing on the gargantuan weapon's Las-Pulser, tearing it's power core out with his bare hands. Damocles, now alarmed by his companion, yelled at him with full force of his Vox-casters:

"Kronos, what on Terra are you doing?"

Kronos raised his head from his work, his quick modification of the power cell finished. As he stared the Dreadnought in the eyes, a flurry of emotions hit him. Guilt, anger, resolve, sadness, all fought a brutal battle in his mind, but ultimately, one reigned above the others: acceptance. He allowed himself a small smile as he replied:

"My duty, Damocles."

With that, the Custodian charged at full speed once again, leaving a baffled Dreadnought in his wake, too dumbstruck to even pursue him. He descended upon the tunnel where the noise could be heard at it's strongest. Hoping that his makeshift explosive would be enough. Hoping the tunnel would be unstable enough. Hoping he would be enough.

There, turning a corner, he came face-to-face with the largest collection of daemons he had ever had the displeasure of witnessing. Bloodletters, Flesh Hounds and of course, the Heralds of Khorne themselves. All in front of a massive daemon coated in armor of brass, at least 15 meters tall, it's four gargantuan arms each brandishing a burning instrument of pain.

But Kronos had no fear. His fate was already sealed, and if could take all of these wretched beasts into the Warp with him, then so be it. In but the last moment of detonating his device, Kronos considered the option of the blast extending far more outward than he could imagine. So, in preparation for his final sacrifice, he opened the Vox-caster to Damocles' frequency and uttered one simple word.

"Run."

As he immediately turned it back off again, his land upon the makeshift trigger switch, the legions of Chaos nearly upon him, he hoped that Damocles had heard him. He hoped that he would listen. He hoped that blast wouldn't be as great as his worst estimates. Really, hope was but the last thing one would think to harbor in such a situation. But as he engaged the switch and threw the compromise bomb onto the daemon horde a mere dozen meters before him, hope was all that Kronos could think of.

Author's Notes: I'm totally not gearing up towards making cliffhangers a regular thing in writing this. Nope, not at all.

In all seriousness, Chapter 2 is finally done and I couldn't be happier about it, because Chapter 3 is going to be where things get...weird. And very, very surreal. And I love writing that shit.

Again, as I've mentioned, I do my fair share of research on these chapters, but I am NOT an expert, so if I fuck anything up, be sure to correct me in the R̶e̶v̶i̶e̶w̶s Comments below (let's be honest, that's basically what they are).

Side note: As pointed out by some R̶e̶v̶i̶e̶w̶e̶r̶s (you get the joke), yes, the chapters are going to come out with a fair bit of grammar mistakes. I simply like to work with the brunt of the work first and then fine tune it later because it's easier for me. So, for all of those worried, the mistakes of the previous chapter have likely all been ironed out by now, as will the potential mistakes of this chapter be ironed out by the time the third one rolls around.

Otherwise, rate, comment, subscribe, like, donate to my obligatory money giving website FF won't let me write for some reason and give me all your Robux. This is your resident bonedome signing off.