The rage was building again. It came, more and more as he cut down the Imperials. He felt something shoot through his veins. Corrin, stop, you're going too far… A voice muttered in his head. He gasped. The new Corrin ignored the warning and went on. A las shell blasted into his shoulder.
He groaned, but blasted on. Corrin, stop… He shook his head and rushed ahead. He felt more fire exploding onto his back. Something exploded beside him, throwing him aside. A bolt shell lay at his feet. A giant warrior stood before him. Corrin… He righted himself and charged the warrior.
He was forced to his knees in a scream of agony. No… The voice was silenced. He realized, too late, it was his own. He felt the heat draining itself from his body quickly. His muscles relaxed, but the pain remained. He had regained control, but he could not move.
The giant stood above him. More Imperials joined him. He began to thrash uncontrollably. He was as the hunted to the hunters, wounded and downed. He sat in the shadow of dozens of enemy soldiers. This was his end then.
The giant raised his bolter. "Wait!" Someone said hastily. "That's, that's Corrin Grant!" The speaker looked at the giant. "I'll call lord Riktus!" Corrin looked straight up. Riktus. Riktus was here, and he would meet him again, face to face. He looked up.
"Your lord cannot stop me, neither can you! You…" But he did not finish. The giant sent his fist lightly into Corrin's skull. It was black.
He was still in Promethius. He could tell by the distinct smell of industry and the stench of the death-smog. For the second time in his life, he found himself flanked by enormous super-men. He looked around at the huge Imperial Lightning Bolt banners. He spat. They had taken the City of Fire. He had sworn they would go no further, now they had. There was only one more city in their path: Glory, capital of Merica.
"Keep still and keep quiet." grunted one of the Astartes. Imperial soldiers bustled back and forth along the streets, to and from the buildings. Terrified Merican citizens stared at Corrin as he was marched by. Many of them had open mouths. Corrin Grant had been captured. He knew that was what they were thinking. They were thinking hope was lost.
But they were Merican. They held inside of them that spark of resistance and difference that had established the country in the first place so many millennia ago. He nodded at each of them and silently made the sign of Merican with his fingers. Some smiled; many shook their heads and turned away.
If they were to give up, he would not. He looked up at the Astartes. "Why do you fight for him? The Emperor, I mean." The warriors were silent. He saw one of them squint. "Why?"
"I said to keep silent." The Astartes said as he hit Corrin in the chest. He wheezed as the air was knocked out of him. More banners hung everywhere. He turned back in defiance.
"Why do you kill us? What have we done? Can we not coexist?" They were silent. "Are you made for war? Is there any human inside of you?" He felt the fist descend into his chest again. His lungs filled up then extinguished.
"You can't…beat me back…" Corrin smiled. "I'm better than that…" They turned away from him. They took a sharp turn. Before he could think, he was thrown through an open door. He fell to the cold steel below and winced. What he would have given for one of his rushes of adrenaline.
He looked up. A shadowy figure stood there. His face was completely concealed by his hood. His arms were unnaturally long and thin. He was of abnormal build. His body was sinewy and thin. It almost seemed brittle.
"Corrin Grant…" He said with a click. He removed his hood, showing a thin, grey skinned face. He smiled. "What are you, my friend? What are you?" Corrin stared at him in hatred, the same hatred that he shared with all Imperials. "Answer me…" The kind tone of the man descended into annoyance. He felt one of the Astartes hit him. He cringed and finally collapsed completely.
"So, Corrin, maybe you will answer this time? What are you?" Corrin shook his head. "You don't know? Oh yes you do! It doesn't matter anymore, Corrin. You've lost. We've got you!"
"Shut up." Corrin said with a grin.
"What?"
"Shut up. You don't know what the Frak you're talking about. Merica will never surrender to your Emperor." The Invincibles moved for him again, but the thin man raised his hand. "We have power you can't even comprehend."
The man smiled. "Yes, what kind of secrets does your great country hold."
"You won't get into me that easily." Corrin laughed. He felt something slam into the back of his knee. He wailed. His other knee went as well. Next his back went. "Frak! Stop!" As soon as they halted, he formed a smile.
"You underestimate me…"
"Sir," The thin man said curtly. "You will call me sir." Corrin chuckled.
"I'll call you what ever I want." The thin man nodded again. He heard the Astartes moving forwards once more. The man was persistent.
"Stop." Said a cold, evil voice. Corrin smiled again.
"I was waiting for you to intervene…" He said happily as he rolled over. A man towered over him, the same man he had met in Mason, the same man he would kill. "…Riktus."