Bloodshed; he had never seen it like this. Astartes careened through Merican lines like a battering ram. Blood spewed from disemboweled corpses, waterfalls of death and gore. Screams and cries of agony drifted across the thin, dust-filled air slowly. They were drawn out, providing more sorrow to the listener.
Corrin stood above Jonas' body. It was put in perspective now; the entire war. He slumped down, holding himself up by his knees. His mouth fell open as his head lolled to the side. Vision blurred, he became sick. Brown liquid burst forth from his lips, burning his throat. His head drifted up, looking ahead. Another blank faced Merican looked back at him, blood splattering his face. The soldier's head was open, revealing a dark, empty interior; blasted apart by a killing bolt.
He looked away, closing his eyes. He caught sight of a second man, rolling about on the ground, enveloped in flame. There was a bloodcurdling cry from behind him. He spun, the reflexes of his rage still effective. It was too late. The Astartes' chainsword was already upon him. There was a blast, and the man was gone. All that was left was vaporized matter.
Grange bounded forward and pulled Corrin from the ground. "Stay on guard, Corrin! You can't just lie down and let this fight go on." He roared. "Remember, these are your people! What would your president think?" The President…Corrin thought. What would the President think? His thoughts were broken by a new alarm call.
Tactical Code: Mass. Prepare for wave++
The Mericans all understood. The enemy was advancing with a human shield, wave after wave. That meant the Mericans had been making some ground, at least. The Imperials had resorted to the worst tactic imaginable.
Corrin turned to examine the victims of the Imperial warmachine: Mericans. Lost Souls, all of them, they wore basic Merican fashion style clothes and Merican crests. The commander of the Imperials had tied mass-genocide, fear tactics, and human shield strategy into a single, devastating combination.
That was when it hit Corrin; who was the enemy commander? With Riktus dead and the Emperor in Jerminy, who had been chosen to take the important position of warlord? Surely the Emperor's warriors would not stay pious long without a supporting, and driving, hand!
"Corrin, Grange!" Jasper bellowed, his voice barely audible above the horrific combat. Corrin had learned to recognize it, however, as he had Grange's voice. The Marine stumbled out of a mass of firing Mericans. The three men stood, looking over the approaching horde of mindless things. They would not even fight; they were of less use to the Imperials than Treacherous Souls. Thus, they would be used as sacrifice.
"We…" Jasper began. Soon, he froze at the words uttered out of the loud speaker++
High alert. High alert. Western Sector Breached++
"Do you know what this means?" cried Jasper. The other two stared at him, bewildered. "The Capital Building is in the Western Sector. They're going for President O'Connor!"
Corrin did not speak another word. The two Mericans shared a bond; a common knowledge. They had to save their leader. Not waiting for the Martian, the two soldiers blasted off. It seemed more were joining them, as the sound of louder footfalls emerged, growing more and more noticeable.
They would save him. They would.
Artillery ravaged the area around them, but Corrin would stop for nothing and no one. Along with the others, he plunged into the fire. The Capital lay before them, its shields failing and at the breaking point. By the time they arrived, the place would be swarming with Imperial vermin.
"They are coming!" an Imperial called in Gothic.
"Ambush!" Corrin warned, still driving forward. If the other Mericans wanted to hide, then he would tell them of the danger. He was ready to die to save O'Connor. The shields broke at that moment, as he left the street and stepped upon the Capital's grassy lawn. Shots fired from all around ricocheting off of the buildings behind him and kicking up dirt. Fire burned the grass in a line, reducing the beauty to a cinder.
He rolled across the blackened remains of flora, firing into the shadowy silhouette attackers. More and more of his countrymen flooded after him, undeterred by the constant attack. Eventually, the shots died out. All the ambushers were dead.
By this time, Corrin had arrived. The lawn broke into a beautiful cobblestone patio, destroyed and ruined by war. "Into the capital!" the others screamed, in unison. "Push them back!" Someone shouted. They would. They had to.
As Corrin rounded a sharp corner, intuition kicked in. His body swung around and faced what lay beyond. Without thinking, he fired upon what he saw. Two Imperials fell to the ground where they stood, guarding the exits.
"Corrin, hold up!" Grange called. "We aren't all tireless!" He realized this was true, and stopping, faced the Adept. Jasper was right beside him, face set in anger. They jogged up, sweaty and fatigued.
"We don't have time to rest…" Corrin spat. "Come on, through this door. We'll head all the way up into the Offician Room."
"Wait, Corrin." Jasper said, thoughtfully. "There is a faster way." He drifted off. "A passage…" They followed him as he made his way around the building. The fight had gone inside, and only the far off fire of artillery reminded them of the war.
Finally, they reached the front door. For the first time, Corrin examined the Capital in full. Bunker Rectum was nice, but it was nothing to this magnificent structure. Beautiful, white marble assembled together in perfect design created a sense of power and great perfection that shone throughout the entire city. Lavishly designed columns were placed every few yards, dominating the mortals around it with shadow.
"Corrin!" Jasper woke him from his trance. "In here." Before Corrin's very eyes, a passageway had been opened. Grange and Corrin stared at the Marine in awe. "Just…defense training. We all learned the nooks and crannies of this place…its really…"
"Let's go!" Corrin urged, not wanting to get lost in deep explanation. And they did. As one, they descended into the small passage in the wall, crawling as a man could not fit through. As they did, something struck Corrin; something he could not understand. Something awaited him in the Capital Building that would change his life forever.