Battle-Brothers. I have awoken from my sus-an membrane coma and bring onto you all a new chapter. Enjoy.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN WARHAMMER!
Ferrikos lip curled into a scowl. He gritted his teeth. The Iron Hand's body was shaking violently. aPartially from the power and vibrations of the weapon he was firing and the other half from the rage swelling up inside him. There was a fire burning inside his breast that could not be quelled.
They killed him.
They killed his lord and primarch. Slew his father in front of his very eyes. Killed the Gorgon.
He was helpless to watch as Fulgrim's spawn tore into his father's carcass like rabid dogs. They tore off pieces of his flesh and armour and paraded them around like war trophies...and he was powerless to stop it. Ferrikos had lost himself in his rage.
All of the Iron Hands that bore witness to it did. A burning flame had been killed in all of them. An ever growing heat that had started to replace the coldness of the iron.
When his father had died, he and his squad were besieged by the Emperor's Children. Pinned down and unable to advance. When they saw their father's plight they fought their hardest. They tried their best to make it for him.
Many of his men lost their lives in the initial push. Many Iron hand's gored by enemy blades and riddled to pieces by enemy fire in their desperate charge.
But it was too little..too late.
They had failed. By the time they...no he..Ferrikos had made it. The Gorgon was dead. His head parted from his body. His corpse being ravaged by the traitors. Ferrikos had lost his entire squad. Each death, a sacrifice meant to push him closer to saving their father. Vain.
"IT WAS ALL IN VAIN!"He roared in anger. Blood and spittle flying from his lips.
He had lost his equipment in the push. His most efficient weapons were lost. So, he had taken up weapons of the fallen to exert his vengeance on the traitors. His recently procured bolter was letting loose his fury on the traitors in front of him. He had chased them down.
All of them dared to flee with his father's remains and fought them alone. There may have been others that followed behind him but that mattered not. He desired blood. The blood of the traitors. The blood of their father. He desired Fulgrim.
An Emperor's Children's legionary charged him brandishing a chainsword. Ferrikos pumped his chest full of bolt rounds, multiple fist sized holes blown into his chest. Another had snuck up one him, swinging down a revved chainblade at him. He brought up his bolter, using it to block the blow. Spark from the meeting of the two metals fell onto his face.
His muscles and mechanical servos whined in agony from all the strain that had been placed upon them.
The Iron Hand, with a push of pure effort, forced the opposing Astartes back, and pushed him off him. The warrior lost his balance, stumbling back. Ferrikos shot forward, and smacked his helmless head with the ruins of his bolter.
He was certain he heard the man's skull crack form the force of the blow as he fell. However, Ferrikos did not stop there. He fell upon him with all his rage and fury, continuously beating upon him with the bolter.
Blood and gore splattered onto his armor. The maddened warrior did not stop until the man's head was reduced into a bloody paste. He stood, huffing, looking for his next target.
However, Ferrikos then felt a burning sting in his lower abdomen. It was followed by the smell of burnt flesh. The warrior looked down to see a burning hole in him, smoke still seeping from the wound. He then felt the same sensation in his left knee, causing him to drop down.
His ears picked up laughter coming from behind him. Then footsteps. Multiple footsteps.
"My..my..my..another machine has come to be dismantled~" cooed a voice.
"Yes brother...These Iron Hands sure have lost themselves since their father was slain. Quite entertaining to watch if I say so myself~" replied another.
Ferrikos Nial looked up, the voices now in front of him, to find three purple and gold armored legionaries standing in front of him.
The lead held a steaming volkite pistol in his hands. He maglocked the weapon to his hip, and drew an elaborate power sword from his waist. The warrior then held it above his head.
"Now shall we send the lone son off to meet his bastard father?" said the son of Fulgrim as he raised the blade above his head.
Ferrikos awaited death's embrace..yet it did not come. Instead he heard the whir and boom of a quad barrel cannon and felt warm blood splash onto his face. The Iron hand looked up to find the upper halves of his three assailants blown into fleshy giblets.
"Get up Ferrikos!" boomed a loud mechanical voice.
Ferrikos stumbled to his feet and turned in the direction of the voice. What he saw was the battered form of a venerable dreadnought of his legion. The resuscitated warrior's armored husk was four barreled cannons still seeped smoke, the tips of the barrels still glowing a bright orange from heat during firing.
The dreadnought, like himself,was on its last legs. The left arm was missing, seemingly blown off, and the sarcophagus that held the warrior within was exposed, revealing the withered and gored form of a fallen Iron Hand's warrior.
"Brother.." uttered the surprised Ferrikos.
The Iron Hand interred within this iron coffin was none other than his birth brother, Archon Niall. They were some of the oldest in the legion, conscripted during the Unity Wars. During the ending era of the unity wars, hsi brother was gravely injured and interred within a Dreadnought for further service,
The two had each other during the start of the battle when their Primarch led them into battle against the Fulgrim and his Emperor's Children. He thought him lost alongside his Primarch and much of the legion.
Archon wobbled to him, sparks jumping off his damaged form. His brother was on his last longs, the extended battle taking its toll on his form. Ferrikos limped to his brother.
"You live yet. I thought you lost...alongside our Primarch." said Ferrikos, whilst biting back more anger.
"Nay brother. The Iron endures. It keeps me alive for a few more moments but..you and many of our legion. Your iron has become brittle. Broken by the death of primarch. You all allow yourself to succumb to the weakness of the flesh. Throw yourself to the enemy hordes..To meaningless death." the dreadnought stated as it made its way past his brother.
"No matter how many of you die. How many of the enemy you bring down. Nothing will bring the Gorgon back. He is dead. We saw it. We all saw it. There is nothing to be done now. Wasting your life will not bring him back." As he spoke, the Archon's right leg gave out, dropping his large form to a knee.
"What more is there to us then brother?! What is a legion without its Primarch! A son without his father?! A cog without its machine?!" Ferrikos retorted.
A slow..mechanical chuckle came from the dreadnought, causing Ferrikos to furl his eyebrows in confusion. Why was he laughing?
"There it..is again..The weakness of the flesh. You are not being logical brother. All these may still function. A legion, without its head is still that. A legion, full of warriors to take the charge. A fatherless son is one who shall grow to take his place. A machineless cog is a cog that will eventually find its place once more. Each is that which can be reforged and strengthened in the fire less they be discarded..just as you all are doing your own lives." the warrior stated.
Ferrikos saw his brother's sole remaining organic eye look towards him.
"You still have purpose Ferrikos. Do not callously waste your life as you just were. Go on now. There are many others of our legion scattered about this wasteland. Find them. Gather them. I shall hold off any who pursue you here. I am too damaged to join you on this journey." He continued.
Ferrikos stood there taking in his brother's words, unmoving.
"GO!" yelled Archon.
Ferrikos cast one last look at his brother and then began to move away from him.
"The Iron endures.." he heard his brother speak as he left him behind.
Not too long after the boom of his cannon resounded throughout the wargrounds before it too..eventually fell silent. By then Ferrikos was now long gone. Deprived of both father..and brother.
"The Iron..endures.." muttered Ferrikos as he walked the land of betrayal and death.
i would first like to give a huge shoutout and thanks to Brianvrs for allowing me to use his ocs(our Iron Hands) in this story so big ups and thanks to him. Chapters will go back to being regularly posted next week so stay tuned my friends!