Just be quiet, just obey. Deliah had come to accept that the invaders were easier to deal with if they cooperated. She had to learn more than once the penance for resisting. Delilah couldn't fight back in a way that mattered, so she had to endure. Surely, Heaven is preparing to invade Hell again, after a clearer understanding of their enemy. Perhaps the seraphs are gathering their strength to lead a greater charge against hell than the Imperial focus can handle. But for now, keep it low. No need to start a fight one cannot win.
It was a wonderful way for them to march through the city so early. It was only yesterday that Hell was filled with these bastards. She was sure that even with their enlarged numbers and terrifyingness, they were going to win. But their unyielding devotion was for a lack of a better term, terrifying. Her extensive travel gave her plenty of room to reminisce on her first dive into combat. She could totally recall her surprise at their charge towards them. She could hear her fellow women falling to the barrage of energy bolts and enhanced firearms into the dirt. She could also recall the reaction of the "Sister of Battle" as they seem to call themselves. How Delilah felt the rush of glory swoop down into the belly of this barbarian, ready to carve her like a pig. But to her surprise, the Valkyrie did not scream and curl into a ball of pain. Rather, she pushed forward toward the attacker and ripped the arm off her opponent.
How Delilah could still feel the suffering of her limb being removed, as one of many golden puddles began to form on the cursed ground. And how she recalled being thrown to the ground by the sister's grip and gravity's pull. Not given adequate room to get back up, this warrior jumps onto her foes and holds a good grapple over Delilah's body. A headbutt allowed the angel time to move a few feet away only for her opponent to recover and grab onto her leg swiftly. A couple of kicks was all she could deliver in retaliation when the sinner began pulling off the left leg, then the right. How defiant, her scream was, with only one arm left to attempt to crawl away from this absolute monster. She could witness a smile on the woman's face. Why could she see this as anything worthy of revealing, Delilah could not decipher. But she could not care for its origins, only her survival. Reaching out for her spear embedded into the sister's chest, she pulled it out with all her might and with that same motion jammed it right into the sister's skull. The warrior is stopped in her tracks, but Delilah repeatedly punctures the brains to ensure this opponent can never get up again.
As she turns her attention to her surroundings, she notices the entire battle is covered in as much blood as she was. She could not make out any advanced tactics honed through centuries of exterminations. She could not observe the surgical removal of weak spots within the ranks of the sinners to strip them of their power. No, all that encircled her was death and madness. People of both factions blindly charged onto each other and thrashed violently against the nearest body to them. Tools designed for precision and repairs swung around without a care for any life but their own.
It was only a moment of distraction, but it was enough for a shovel to the skull to send Delilah back into the dirt. Deep down, she knew it wasn't anything she could call human. But her witnessing of human history could only describe the figure in front of her as a relic of the past, a soldier to fight in No Man's Land. A conflict that was no less than a hundred years ago, and one of their warriors was trying to kill her. Delilah couldn't stay on the ground, that's where all the corpses being trampled were. But then the german stepped onto Deliiah's stomach, forcing several organs upward. Her entire body was now covered in her divine innards, as the soldier is determined to make them her outtards. With both hands on the angel, Delilah could feel her mind blanking out as the warrior tried to finish his prey. Delilah weakly attempts to strike at this crusader, as she looks around to figure out how to stop him. The fighting of her fellow angels trying hard to clean this infestation, the sight of heavily armored paladins surprisingly tearing some of them in half. One of the upper halves holding their weapon landed next to Delilah. So she once again pushed herself to her limit and ripped the spear from her Ally's body to perforate his fucking neck!
Wait…he wasn't stopping?! HOW?! HIS ESOPHAGUS WAS RUPTURED! HOW COULD HE BE BREATHING?! Deliiah's confusion was interrupted by the soldier's hands breaking the spear in half, and stabbing that end into her chest. As they wrestle for control of their enemy's life, she wins a minor advantage and rolls herself over him. The tussle cracks his gas mask, revealing the eye of her foe. It was a man, and he was scared. Not for his life, this was not the eye of a desperate man. It looks like the eyes of the crusaders in humanity's dark ages. So filled with blood and carnage as their Lord wanted. This of the face of those dying in his name against a foe that bested them. For a second, Delilah could empathize with his struggles. In that second, she was already tearing through his throat, ensuring he could never hurt anyone again.
But none of it mattered. They won. Despite all their struggles, the exterminators have lost, now twice. But this time, they had to learn a lesson. A lesson that was hard for the stomach to bear. As they trudged through the streets of Pride City, the eyes of sinners stared at this power, almost cathartically accepting them as the dominant power. It was simply degrading the first time to be paraded around like they weren't a threat anymore. Now this time, it was simply reminding both their prisoners and the residents of their place.
And the reason they lost to some group of backward steampunk zealots was due to some magic summoning one of their own angels, apparently. She couldn't believe that for the second time in history, angels were bested by mortals. Delilah groaned, of course she knew this already. Who was she reporting this news to? This was literally yesterday. But what else was she supposed to focus on? The faces of those they previously kept in line before they were dominated? Or perhaps the sludge that barely resembles a proper meal and more of the garbage it came from. Though, there was a whispering voice behind her, like begging…wait, Delilah could recognize the words. Oh no.
"Our…father, who art…in heaven…hallowed be thy-'' It was Fern, a more recent addition to This was not good. If the Truth of Jesus is revealed to these barbarians, they are in for a whole lot more trouble than it's worth. The murmuring is stopped when an angel begins to make a loud coughing sound. The soldiers turn towards her, making it seem as if all the noises were from one alone. "Be quiet," commanded one of the Marines. "S-sorry, I guess I-I ate that stew too qui-." The angel was slapped for her defiance. "I said silence, scum." She complied, bowing her head in submission.
It was not even a minute when the voices started again. "Thy kingdom come, they will be done" One of the fellow prisoners try to get her attention, but her head was sunk down in prayer so low, she could not make out the silent cues. Fern really needs to learn social cues. Thankfully, the living saint Juneline was in the front of the march, so she couldn't overhear the prayer to a foreign deity. Same with that traitor We couldn't tell her to stop without alerting the guards to where it was coming from. Though, it may be too late. The chapter champion, Volgath Hureaki of the Salamanders turned towards their cattle. Oh no. This will not end well.
"Whomever is speaking out of line, step forward! Or watch your harpy allies suffer for your rebellion." To a degree, it was a fair demand. It was a show of power to those who would attempt to defy them, in a way that the perpetrator will learn from. Though, none were going to speak up with this demand on them. Delilah was both disappointed and understanding. This situation strains the moral compass they have prided themselves on for so long. Who would willingly subject themselves to another torture session by the Mechanicus? It's pretty much their own Human Centipede at this point.
"Well then, since no one has been speaking, there's no need for any of you for these." The sheer strength in this soldier's arm was still impressive, even to the angels that beared witness to them assembling small buildings just yesterday. He grabbed up a random angel by the jaw, Delilah thought it was Kale he picked up. And with a slow grip closing, she could feel her bones about to break from the pressure. The horror! She had to be saved! "I DID IT! IT WAS ME!" The group gasped at one of their own submitting themself for a slaughter. But what else could Deliah do? Allow another of her closest friends to endure the suffering she had to endure? No. She's survived one of their carvings. And their absolute abominable actions upon Hagar need not be delivered to anyone else. They know of an angel's limit, and so did she. They won't kill unless they deem it necessary. And she wouldn't let them bleed if she had any power over it. She marched in front of the champion and opened her arms, ready to be pulled apart limb from limb. "You don't need to hurt anyone else."
The way Volgath stared into her was frightening. Delilah could not tell if he was searching to see if she was speaking the unaltered truth, or if he was debating where best to carve her to maximize the pain. Both possibilities scarred Delilah. She tried very hard to look at him with some sense of bravery in her eyes, mentally begging him to not look further than what was right in front of him. So when Volgath spoke in a calm voice, it rang like a church bell in her ears. "You are brave, Harpy. But you are not the perpetrator." It was as if she was frozen stone cold as the champion walked past her as if she was little more than a nuisance to him.
As the champion moved through the chained suspects, Volgath began to narrow it down even further. Once by dissipation of noise, then by location. Finally, he narrowed it down to seven possibilities. Names were unimportant. All the harpies looked the same to him. If he can beat the heresy out of one of these scum, the rest will fall in line. And so, he would rest for their loyalty. "Who is God?" Almost immediately, the group gave a scattered "the Emperor" in response. Though, it was not all of them. Repeating himself to cut through the deception, the question "Who is God?" would tear off any cover the xenos may have. Again, the harpies answered "the Emperor" but this time, one of them shouted "Yahweh!" Volgath was silent for but moment, stunned by the sheer devotion behind her voice. It was this moment that allowed her to continue. "I am a child of God, my God of this universe! Through him, I am saved and none of you Philistines can do a thing about it!" A backhand knocks the blasphemer off her feet. None will reject his glory in front of his sons.
"This Yahweh is not the Emperor." The sheer venom in his words was quite toxic to consume. The audacity that any god could possibly be above He who sits upon the golden throne. He knew all of this, based on the reactions of all the other prisoners. Yet this Harpy does not relent. With the strength summoned to lift herself, she stared into Volgath's eyes even through the visor of his helm. "No. He is the Lord!" The Salamander's fist found itself logged into this alien's chest, a fatal wound for any other creature. Pulling it from her body, he watched as this loyalist choked on her own blood. "Take her back to camp! The Techpriests can test the work of this Yahweh." Seeing the flailing pain this Fern was in, Volgath knew the faces of submission. The fires of resistance, perished under the smothering of one yet to ignite a spark. Good, the interruption ended. Now, they must rejoin the rest.
…
The voyage was long, and deep down Juneline felt it to be a trap. A transmission of a long lost embargo ship amount of men with these specific coordinates. Just as their one and only psyched was searching for a way out. How convenient. Still, the forces of the Black Templar have one of these Overlords on the run, and the Mechanicus are enforcing their current location with the Kriegsmann. So in her mind, all possibilities were accounted for. So what was she afraid of? The unknown. What she can't predict. They were at the heart of the warp, in its very center, trying to bless it with the Emperor's glory. Well, perhaps not a heart. To compare the Warp to a living being would be to apply sentience to an ocean. No, if anything, the stomach would be a more accurate term. Where its prey is consumed, feeding the monsters inside.
Her train of thought was interrupted by the sight of some familiar buildings, as was expected in the architecture of this city. But as she neared the coordinates, she noticed the structures were…even more familiar. The remains of the hull of a Dauntless ship were used for these. She can make out the metal that was so strangely comforting in this place. Or at least what it should be. The metal wasn't pure enough, based on the fractures due to apparent age. As their march came to an end, she came across a tower with the image of a…golden man with a burning greatsword. It looked like the Emperor…but the One True Armor was larger in scale. Most likely before the Siege of Terra.
As she and her imperial loyalists held the marvels before them, the doors to the tower opened. And what came out was…strange. It was humanoid, but on its shoulders was a flat surface with a peculiar face. But its suit was that of a…commissar? She had little time to process everything as he spoke his greetings. "Ble- less the Emperor! Yo-You'Ve made IT!"
