Teridax tapped his power claws against the braze and black throne, the tapping echoing through the bridge of his flagship, "Imperial Lament". The walls before the viewports were filled with the frozen, screaming faces. The command bridge was filled with various cultists carrying out the orders of the Chaos Lord, while his various Champions stood on the bridge with him, Bolters and other weapons either sheaved or held closely, as their fleet prepared for the jump.

"We have our new hunting grounds. The world of Tvola," Teridax declared. "There, the Dark Gods have promised us a bounty of fresh victims and souls. The bounty will reap will propel us to Daemonhood!"

The fleet around Imperial Lament was a powerhouse among traitor fleets. The Lament was a strong Desolator, refurbished and refined by many trips to the Dark Mechanicum cults, and paid for by bounty after bounty of slaves. With it came an escort of three Executor-classes, four Acheron-classes, and countless other ships gathered and marked with the profane imagery of Chaos and its Gods' favor. Teridax and his Brotherhood had worked hard to earn their place in the eyes of the Gods, and his fleet reflected that. Carefully coordinated and built for heavy hitting strikes and fast raids, Teridax was eager to join in the assault on Tvola.

The Warp around them distorted and twisted about before them, before splitting upon itself, and the fleet rushing through. Given they were in the Warp already, it was only a matter of bending it with his Sorcerers and slaved witches, to bring them to where they had to go. The scream of the warp, of countless souls and of the slave-witches of the Brotherhood of Damnation sounded and echoed across the bridge, space and time distorting and twisting around them, before ripping through the Warp and into real space.

As they did, three other Chaotic fleets surged forth into realspace, coming from the Warp and their own weapons profane and blasphemous as well. One fleet bore sickly growths, living pustules and worm-like tendrils, any metal part of the ship rusted and corroded green. The four Chaotic Fleets lingered for a moment, the world of Tvola right before them, as if they did not know how to proceed. Finally, the leader of one fleet hailed them, and he Vox networks opened up and connected.

"I am Warlord Genobaude, Chaos Lord of The Bloodsworn, what are the rest of you doing here?" The warrior demanded. He was dressed in brass armor, lined with black, and sigil of Khorne embossed into his chest, his mouth colored red, while the area around his eyes painted black.

"I am Lord Teridax of the Brotherhood of Damnation. We were sent by the Dark Gods to raid Tvola, and attract enemies here to be crushed by a Titan force lead by Vashtor." Teridax stated.

"Clearly, our mission is the same. We should be converging upon that world and leveling," A Lord, obviously dedicated to Nurgle spoke. His face was visible, pallid and filled with inhuman veins, most of his teeth gone, and tubes leading into his open stomach and chest. Parts of the shoulder and chest armor looked less like armor and more like raw, rotting meat.

"Yes, you will support me, and my Warband will be the one to claim victory this day." Genobaud declared.

The Plague Lord sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance, before speaking. "Fine. Let us go."

The four fleet were made up of a variety of ships and vessels, but all of them were more then a match for the patrol fleet. One Armageddon-class, 3 Dominator-classes and several Endeavor-class Light Cruisers, woefully inadequate for the battle ahead.

The Admiral was stunned for a moment, before turning to his officers. "Send out a warning to Ultramar! Priority alert! We have Four Chaos Fleets incoming!"

He did not have time to even wonder where they had come from, before the Chaotic forces got within range, and began firing Lance and missile batteries at his ships. Crimson beams, like spilled blood, screamed through the voice, impacting the shields of the Imperial ships, as Bloodsworn closed first. Teridax watched the exchange, the Loyalist lapdogs attacking with everything they had, the Bloodsworn's fleet tearing into them, before the two other fleets engaged. The Imperial Fleet put up a good fight, but fire came from every direction, their Void shields failing under the relentless assault, while Teridax guided his fleet past the body of the fight, and towards the orbital space stations.

"Cripple the defenses, I do not want anything getting in our way." Teridax ordered coldly.

Macro canons and Lance batteries roared, cursed, screaming torpedoes fired as the orbital defenses feebly tried to fight back, his fighters and bombers rampaging through the squadrons of Imperial defenders like they were nothing. In but a few minutes, the united Chaos Fleet had completely destroyed everything in their path and left nothing but burning ruins and splintered ships gone to the void. With no resistance left to speak of, the Chaos Fleets moved into position, and began to send down their gunships and drop pods.

In the major cities of Tvola, PDF Regiments mobilized, Leman Russ and Rogal Dorn Tanks prepared, Platoons armed and dressed into their Flak Armor. They bore the standard armor of Tvola, Dark Blue and gray. Local and Officio Commissars armed themselves and joined their forces, prepared to fight alongside them, while Priests and Bishops of the Emperor's Faith gave fiery speeches and extolling their soldiers to fight with all the fury they could muster for the Emperor.

Brotherhood of Damnation landed alongside the Bloodsworn, their Brass and Black armor gleaming, their helmets shaped like snarling Demons and ogres over their faces, hordes of blood-mad Cultists following beside them, various sword, cudgels, maces and other combat tools in hand, these maddened figures nearly naked and daubed in red and black paint, bearing the markings of Khorne and Chaos. Meanwhile, the Plague Marines and their servants landed beside them. Those without helmets bore half-masks over their mouths and noses, tubes running into the sides of them. Alongside them were lumbering hordes of mutants, Possessed Marines, Plague Ogyrns and beastmen.

The last force, the most mysterious, were dark blue with black scale markings across their arms, shoulders and chest. A Five-headed serpent adorned their shoulder, while the mark of Tzeentch decorated the left. They hide their faces with helmets and skull-like masks, Sergeants and Aspiring Champions shaved bald, the top of their head bearing a single serpent's head.

Tvola Defense Troops moved into position, bunkers and defensive trenches, tanks in position. It did not take long for the battle to begin. Bloodsworn Hellbrutes and Brotherhood tanks and artillery began their assault, followed closely by Chaos Marines and Cultists. Lasguns and heavy weapons spat their munitions, Lascanon and heavy munitions hitting vehicles, while smaller Las rounds struck across the bodies of the Chaos infantry, Cultists cut down in a few volleys, while the Chaos forces closed and engaged. Chainaxes and Swords roared as they slashed and cut down PDF troopers, tearing through flak armor like paper. Cultists and Mutants threw themselves at the Bayonets of the Troopers, many falling to point-blank Lasgun fire or bayonets to the gut and neck, only for the next wave to overwhelm them. The Tvola Defense Forces gave an ordered, fighting retreat, but every square mile of defenses that fell, brought them closer and closer to the main cities. Their only hope was that they could buy enough time for Macragge to receive their Astropathic warnings and cries for help, and arrive.

Tvola was East of Macragge, south of the Scourge Stars, and largely like any other settled world. Its cities were neither large enough to count as a hive city, nor small enough to be completely forgotten. Its industrial abilities were average for a world its size. Whether they warranted any attention from the Ultramarines, or would be forced to fend for themselves against the raids of the Chaos forces.

Upon a hill, just before they hit a truly massive forest, the four Lords of the gathered Warbands stood, watching the encroaching forces lay siege to the main city from every direction. It was the most heavily defended, and had the greatest concentration of Chaotic forces laying siege, Sorcerers and Witches of Astartes and Cultist origin conducting their rituals, and Warp Holes tearing open, and allowing Daemons of all kinds to pour through and join the battle.

"I guess we should introduce ourselves." The Plague Lord remarked, before indicating Teridax and Genobaude with his Scythe. "Though you two already got to that business."

Genobaude grinned. "Everyone should know my glorious name and deeds."

Teridax rolled his eyes, groaning slightly. "Ego and pride like that, it's a wonder Slaanesh didn't Mark you instead."

Genobaude shot him an angered look, before the Nurglite Chaos Lord spoke up, wanting to avoid any infighting. "I am Gangrothus, my warriors are part of the Leprotic Legion."

The last lord spoke. It was hard to tell he was a Chaos Lord. Other then the Mark Tzeentch on one shoulder pad, and the spikes adorning his back shoulders, he looked very much like the other forces under his command. "I am Sheshanaga Khaneed, Alpharian Speaker of the Larna Shadowband."

"These Defense Force grunts are nothing more then an obstacle in our way," Gangrothus stated, stepping away to indicate the city and pillars of fire further out with his scythe. "The real fight, will be when the Ultramarines and whatever allies they have, come to reclaim this world."

"Likewise, why would the Gods give Vashtor four Titan Maniples to strike at this world at all?" Sheshanaga commented, shaking his head. "This is just one of many little industrial/farming worlds of the Corpse-lovers. What makes it so important."

Teridax furrowed his brow for a moment, wondering if they had not been told what to expect here. "Something else is being lured here, apparently. That's all the Herald of Tzeentch told me."

Gangrothus looked at him, narrowing his eyes slightly, but didn't say anything. He seemed to not believe it, thinking Teridax was hiding something, before simply shrugging it. "The Gods have their plan. Let us hope our survival is a part of that."

Khaneed also seemed to pick up on something from him, but kept it to himself. He merely marched off away from the others to lead his forces into battle. The others followed suit, each having their own plan in play for how to break the city.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Roboute Guilliman sat back heavily, his brow set deeply. The alert from the Astropathic Choir of Tvola had been dire indeed. Four entire Chaos Space Marine Warbands and their accompanying fleets. The business of reestablishing the territories of Old Ultramar, and watching for any movements from his traitor brother and his Legion within the Scourge Stars was a threat he could not ignore. Just because those plague-ridden, hellish worlds were silent and on watch now, did not mean they would remain as such.

Within the gilded hall of his throne and office, among the great white pillars and statues of Ultramar and its past rulers, the leaders of the Ultramarines, the Tetrarchs, and the attendants and Logothetes of Ultramar's Bureaucracy all stood ready for his word. They hinged on every second of his glance and word, ready for whatever he ordered. Given his position, it was of the utmost importance to the Imperium. Every world that forces were committed to would mean potentially others left undefended. In seconds, the mind of the Primarch had worked through the logistics and importance of the world, on a spiritual level to the Imperium's Fawning priests, as well as the costs. Letting Tvola fall meant potentially signaling to the Death Guard and their rotted forces, that the sons of Ultramar were growing complacent, too afraid to move and protective of their home territories of the 500.

He rose, each step shaking the room of his attendants and warrior-sons. "Captain Cato, call the Master of the Fleet, and inform Captain Ventris we set a course for Tvola at once."

"Yes, my lord!" Captain Sicarius stated loudly, turning and marching off.

The Primarch turned to the bureaucrats and other Marine leaders. "Send alerts and requests to every nearby system to send any Imperial Naval taskforce, Guard regiment, Astartes Chapter and anyone else to send reinforcements here. Tell them scale, so we are not too undefended elsewhere."

It was a heavy-handed approach. But the attack by four separate Chaos Warbands and their forces on a world so close to Ultramar could inspire others. Roboute would not allow even this to go without a response. It seemed too large to be a random traitor Chapter or the like, but the fact it was so close to Macragge and its realm ate at him. Was this a trap? Was it some trick by Fulgrim or Mortarion, hoping for a second go? Or was there someone else playing their games here? He had not seen Lorgar yet, and if any Traitor Primarch had a reason to try and murder him, Lorgar had more then enough reason.

'I hope he feels safe in the Warp. I will not rest until he pays for Calth. Of all my brothers, he's lost any hope for mercy.' He thought to himself, almost hoping Lorgar was making some kind of move to taunt Guilliman.

He took a deep breath through his nose, lumbering through the halls of Macragge and heading towards the flagship of the Ultramarine's Chapter. Whatever the treacherous bastards had cooked up now for their own Warp-dwelling Parasite-Gods, he would face it with the stoicism taught to him all those years ago in his youth. In war, it was a matter of mathematics and science applied as you would building construction or vehicle engineering. And it was the Sons of Ultramar that understood this science more then any of these brain-melted degenerates of the Warp.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Private Garik Letarsion had not lead a quiet life. Few in the Imperium ever did. His regiment had been part of a defensive operation for the world during the Plague Wars, and again against the Orks of Skull-Stompa. He was not some greenhorn recruit. So when the alert went out for the PDF to mobilize and take up arms for Tvola, he could only give a resigned sigh, and prepare for the bloodbath. They were close enough to Ultramar and the Imperial Regent, Chaos certainly wouldn't be stupid enough to launch an invasion now? His squad took cover in one of the ruined buildings, near-completely leveled by artillery strikes from Defiler and Basilisk fire.

Garik looked to one of the newbies, a fresh-faced Guardsmen who was clutching his lasrifle tightly, close to his body. His eyes wide, almost like saucers within his pale, shivering head. The others looked around, the sounds of explosions and guns sounding off in the distance. The squad's relative calm would not last forever.

He looked to the newer recruit, giving a slight smile to calm him down. "First time, eh?"

The recruit, Jannik, nervously nodded, but said nothing. Garik nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I was part of the defense of this world a few times under the Imperial Regent."

Jannik looked at him, almost disbelieving. "Really?"

"Yeah, a lot of us were. Tvola avoided the worst of the fighting, but we had plenty of heretics and Greenskin barbarians 'round here." Another Trooper commented. "Just follow orders, stay on your feet, and pay attention, and you'll make it through, right as rain."

As if on cue, rain began to pour heavily upon them, raging over the entire city. An entire torrential downpour came, over miles and miles around the city and beyond the sights of the Guardsmen platoons and squads in the City of Tvola.

Garik chuckled to himself, indicating the skies. "I Think the Emperor's listening, lads."

The Troopers all nodded and grinned, preparing their weapons and equipment. Whatever came for them, would find them ready and rearing to face them, no doubts in their minds now. And that eagerness was needed. The sound of a horn reverberated through the air, freezing all of them right where they stood. It was a strange sound, not like anything they had ever heard. The squad took up firing positions, ready for whatever came next. From the street that would lead into the building they had crawled into, was a charging herd of Pestigors. The beastmen bore twisted horns, some portions fallen off, their fur matted and pustules and sores visible, covered in ramshackle armor, and tattered putrid green cloth over their faces except their mouths, all of them bearing heavy guts. They all carried two-handed axes or two cleavers in their hands, all of them rusted and dripping with poison and acid.

The Pestigor herd charged, roaring and braying, Garik grabbing a frag grenade and throwing it at the oncoming horde. An explosion tore through the Beastmen, spraying green gas and muck along with gore and limbs, the Beastmen roaring in shock and horror, as the Trooper squad got into position, and began to pour fire down upon the charging beasts. Las rounds surged through the air, frying flesh and slicing open their intestines. Even as their guts hung open and their pus and blood flowed through their wounds, the Pestigor ignored every attack, surging towards the Squad. Plasma bolts melted through them and vaporized flesh and blood on contact, while a Heavy Stubber blared to life.

Gunnery Sergeant Vodun, carrying the large gun all his own, was an impossibly large man. Bearing a thick mustache and wild, barbaric hair, many had joked the man was part Ogryn, thanks to his size and power. Vodun opened fire, the Stub Gun roaring, as bullets sang through the air and tore into the ranks of Chaotic Beastmen, bullets ripping through flesh, while lasgun fire continued. Another PDF trooper threw a grenade, scattering the Beastmen again in the explosion.

The fire fight had only lasted 15 minutes, but to the troopers it felt like an hour. They stood from their positions, looking over the defeated Chaotic thralls, the random crawling and mewling on the ground, struggling to still close with them and try and cut them down, even as their forms were eviscerated and sliced to ribbons, those that weren't blown up. Garik looked at them with some disgust, shaking his head slightly, as he put in a fresh Las pack into his rifle, and looked around once more.

"Outta all the twists in the Imperium, why the Emperor didn't kill off these hoofed freaks is beyond me."

The sergeant spoke, making sure his Meltagun was cooling off, as he spoke. "Apparently a lot of them jumped at the chance to serve in the old Imperial Army. Read that a whole lot of em were eager to prove their devotion to Him."

"Yeah, real devote." Garik remarked, rolling his eyes.

Sergeant Kolm merely shrugged. "Probably the Priests getting lax. Beastmen I hear aren't very bright. If the Priests and Missionaries did their job, maybe they wouldn't be turning to Chaos."

Maybe that was true. Garik couldn't say. He was just one of trillions of soldiers, and doing what he had to to survive. Whether the enemy was in powered armor, had hooves or was green, he didn't much care. They deserved hatred, a hot las-shot and a cold steel bayonet for their trouble.

Vodun clicked on the Heavy Stubber's mechanisms and belt-feed, making sure the gun was ready to go, before stopping and listening carefully. He held a hand up to the rest of the squad, before speaking. "Something else is coming."

They prepared their weapons and took up firing positions again, preparing themselves for what was to come. The first thing to surprise them was the smell, the PDF squad recoiling in disgust. The stench of rot and mold, and a thousand other terrible, foul scents filled the air, practically creating a thick miasma, as the lumbering forms came closer and closer. Squads of Plague Marines and Chaos Marines of the Brotherhood and Shadowband, bolters, plasma guns and Heavy guns gripped and readied, held tight and close to the marines.

Smoke and gas rose form the packs of the Plague Marines, their guts hanging out and loose from their corpulent forms, many wearing either the typical spiked helmet, or a specialized mask over the lower half of their faces. They stepped forward, armored boots crushing what was left of the torn apart and shredded bodies of the Beastmen herds even as they brayed and called out to kill and fight on. The Heretic Astartes simply crushed them under foot, not caring in the slightest over their Mutant rabble, simply focused on the PDF squad, leveling their Bolters for a clear shot.

Garik turned to the others, as Kolm took out a grenade. "We need to get back with the rest of the platoon!"

The squad ran towards the back of the building, as Kolm threw the grenade at the Marines, their Bolters and other guns roaring as they PDF troops made their escape. A few of the Marines fell from the explosion, while the other pursued, the Guardsmen turning to return fire, lasgun rounds flashing and striking against the surface of the armor, hardly even burning the surface of the armor, before a hail Chaos rounds were shot out in response. Garik almost wanted to laugh. They were in the exact opposite position Guardsmen should be. Instead of a thousand to one, it was around nine troopers against 30 or more Chaos Marines.

'Looks like the Emperor prefers we not draw attention to his work.' Garik thought, a boot slamming into a puddle, as they continued in a dead run. The Chaos Marines had somehow closed the distance quicker then expected.

Vodun turned, and unleashed a hail of stubber rounds, striking the against their armor, while Kolm fired of a burst of energy from his Melta gun. The bullets pushed back two of the Chaos Space Marines, and as a third aimed his glowing red Plasma Gun, was struck in the head with the Melta Beam, and exploded, headless body falling to its knees and falling over, the Plasma going off a few times, before the gun overheated, and exploded, knocking the two other Marines off their feet, and into nearby walls, as others ran up to cut down the fleeing Guardsmen. This time, Garik turned, firing off a few Lasrifle rounds, and doing nothing but annoying the oncoming Chaos marines.

One of the Bolter rounds struck a nearby soldier, turning him to tattered flak armor and meat, spraying the left side of Garik. He had no time to care, simply concentrating on running. His legs felt like they were on fire, and the Chaos Space Marines still seemed hot and their tail, and the Plague Marines not far behind them. He had seen Marines in action, saw them tear through infantry like his squad like nothing, and outrun the Guardsmen, even in their bulky, seemingly cumbersome armor. So, why weren't they catching up yet?

'These Chaos Marines are all psychos,' He thought, unpinning a grenade as he ran, and holding it to his side. 'Probably more excited to kill then to complete objectives.'

The grenade exploded, knocking three of them back and away, as more followed after them, firing at their backs, and downing two more Guardsmen. The squad continued in a deadset run, never stopping or hesitating, too focused to get out of there. As the squad jumped onto the broken, shattered streets, and ran for their lives. As they did, Garik spotted a number of red lights dancing across the tops of the buildings, before dots traced over their forms, Garik having a brief moment of terror, before the marker lights turned away. His eyes went to the street level, where, in the rubble and ruins, a few heavy weapons teams, armed with Lascanons, Heavy Bolters and an AutoCanon, glinted briefly in the dark, hidden in the shadows of the ruins.

The crew manning them were Imperial, same flak armor as him, the aquila on the side of their chest and center of their helmet, as Garik breathed a sigh of relief, before a Bolter shell whizzed past his head. Garik nearly fell over his feet, before continuing in a dead-set run. The Chaos Space Marines nearly closed, before a Sniper Las round slammed into the side of the head of one. The Marine stumbled, looking startled and confused, before a second round struck his eye, smashing through the lens, and shearing his brain apart, the Marine falling onto his back. As the other Heretic Marines looked on in surprise, a loud, dry click sounded, as the Heavy weapons teams turned their weapons on, and from the cover of the ruins, opened fire, Heavy Auto and Bolter rounds roaring through the air, as they struck. The rounds struck into the armor, the first ranks of Chaos wretches staggering and roaring in pain, firing their weapons blindly, before the barrage slammed and smashed through armor, and pulverized the tender flesh beneath. The Chaos Marines looked on in shock, before beating a quick retreat away form the fight.

Private Jannik breathed hard, wheezing and staggering as he shuddered in terror. "Running? Ain't Marines, like, fearless?"

"Fearless. Not stupid." Kolm stated bluntly, getting up from off his knees, and waving to the Sniper and Heavy weapons teams. "Thanks lads!"

He signaled for the squad to follow. "Come on, we have to meet up with the rest of the platoon, and get ready to fight them."

Garik nodded to Jannik, before the squad gathered their weapons and ammo, and made their way further into the city. There was no use in hanging around, there was only preparing for the next fire fight, and hoping you lived to see the end.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Teridax oversaw the sight from afar, watching as his artillery opened fire, crashing into the main city, and plums of smoke and fire rose from the city, before another, further boom sounded, and Imperial mortars and artillery fired into the skies, before crashing down on and near the Chaos ranks.

As he watched, Sheshanaga and a squad of his Marines marched up, carrying various scanning gear and equipment. It was a strange sight, Marines using such equipment and gear. That sort of thing was left for Loyalist Scouts and Stormtroopers, Marines were merely there to shatter their foes and utterly decimate them.

'Alpha Legion,' He thought disdainfully. 'Always doing something strange and out of sorts. Crazy bunch.'

"The PDF here are dug in, and have taken down a many waves of Cultists and mutant beasts," Sheshanaga reported. "They are unusually strong-willed and resistant to our advance."

From further away, Gangrothus lumbered into the 'camp' Teridax was keeping, Cultists stepping back and away to keep a distance from the Chaos Lord.

"According to the Daemons of Nurgle, this place was a warzone for the Death Guard and Ultramarines, but were driven off in short order." He explained, circling his free hand in front of him twice. "The populace is ready for war."

Teridax gave an eager grin, clicking the Power Claws on his right hand together. "Oh? Then is there a weakness among these lowly mortals?"

"They are a PDF regiment. They've put up a good fight, but our forces have pushed them into the cities of Tvola." Sheshanaga pipped up.

Gangrothus nodded, taking a deep wheezing breath in, before speaking. "The old fashion way then. A bit of grit, iron, shell, laser, and the power of the Warp."

Teridax looked at the other Chaos Lord with some disdain and disbelief. They were too close to Ultramar and Macragge to just throw some bodies and munitions at the situation. This needed to be handled intelligently and with some forethought put into the situation.

"My artillery will continue to bombard them." Teridax stated, grinding his teeth slightly. "I won't let them rest, not for a second."

Gangrothus shook his head, annoyed with the other Lord's headstrong behavior. Weren't those that followed Tzeentch supposed to be intelligent and thoughtful about their actions? He expected this brute force approach from the Khornate Lord. Never the less, he took his leave and headed out to join his forces in a battle. Weakling mortals or not, every scrap of soul sent to the Garden improved his station, little by little.

Teridax, however, knew why they were here, and wasn't going to go waste his troops in front assaults on the Tvola's fortified positions. He would simply grind them down, wait it out, and when the creature appeared, focus his fire power upon it and help claim its soul for the Dark Gods. The wait was almost too excitable to ignore, but focusing now on the enemies in front of him gave him something to focus his mind upon.

Genobaude, meanwhile, was leading the forward charge, down in the streets of the capital city of Jovor, twin Chainswords roaring as he and his Berzerkers, and those of the Brotherhood, got to their bloody work. Gore smeared the streets and the teeth of their blades, Genobaude laughing like a mad man as he cut through flak armor and flesh like they were not even there. He grinned madly, fire and bloodshed all around him

Other Chaos Marines brought up their weapons, firing away, but he did not care about their support. To him, this was all a distraction from the greater game at play here. To gather as many skulls as possible, and reap as much blood as possible. The Champion Sarthul and his gun-totting weaklings were effective only at cutting down cowards that he and his Berzerkers were unable to reach. Otherwise, there was only the rush of further slaughter. He swung his swords about, slashing and cutting down soldier after soldier, Jakhals jumping onto others, slamming their blades and other weapons into the flesh of their victims, over and over, lacking the brutal strength of the Chaos Marines, but no less mad and psychotic for blood. As the Chaos forces poured through the streets, Daemon, Cultist and others charging through the streets and buildings, heedless of the enemy fire thrown at them. Lasgun shots sliced through flesh and the naked forms of the Jakhals and other Chaos Cultists thrown at them, while Heavy Bolter rounds shattered against bone and armor. Leman Russes and Predator Tanks clashed, buildings and streets shattered and broken from the force of their attacks and explosions.

Artillery shells fell around them, exploding in showers of dirt and fire. Genobaude grinned through, slamming his sword through a Guardsmen sergeant, smashing through his chest, before reeving up the blades and shredding through the soldier's bone and organs, before tearing the blade free. The PDF troops began to retreat, Tanks covering them with retreating fire, as everything seemed to go silent. Genobaude for once felt the rush and exhilaration of battle fall from his mind, an eerie silence falling over he and his Berzerkers. Something was off. Something in the Warp had changed.

Above the planet, thousands of ships shot out from the warp, lead by Macragge's Honor, and joined by ships from the Ultramarines, Genesis Chapter, Black Templars and Emperor's Shadows. Thousands of other vessels flew with them, the Imperial Navy swelling the Chapters' fleet sizes. Onboard these vessels were regiments of Imperial Guard. The Blue-armored, red helmeted Minthay Select Infantry, the Crimson-coated Praetorian Guard, Green-armored Cadians, Brown flak-wearing Brimlock Dragoons, and, most important, the Kauravan Conservators in the black and green. Skitarii and Soroitas forces joined them.

The Force assembled was an impressive display of strength from the Imperium, and one made as a clear signal to the Chaos forces. Even before the warning went out from the fleet, the Chaos Lords and their Warp-touched servants froze for a moment, recognizing what had just occurred. They could feel the ships coming from the Warp, the tear in reality opened by so many battleships, battle barges and Ark Mechanicus vessels. And most of all, the intense fury of the Primarch. Guilliman's anger alone burned like a flare in the Warp, a warning to all Chaotic filth to retreat, or, the world they desired to sack and raid so badly, would become their tomb.

Teridax, turned to the skies, his entourage of Cultist leaders and Chosen following his lead. Genobaude and Gangrothus stood before their dead and dying enemies, Scythe and Chainswords thick with blood, realization washing over all of them what this had meant now. Their acting as the lure was not just for that beast, Teridax decided. The Ultramarines, and so many Chapters loyal to the Emperor, were now here. He turned to his Champions and warriors, flexing his Power Claws.

"Prepare yourselves, this is the true test of a Servant of the Dark Gods." He declared, before he began issuing orders to his forces in earnest.

Genobaude turned to the rest of the Bloodsworn, grinning like mad. "Now, the hunt for skulls truly begins!"

The Khorne worshipers gave a wild cheer, raising their axes and swords above their heads and roaring with excitement and approval. Gangrothus was not so sure this would be something to celebrate. Yes, it would be a massive battle, but if he was correct, there was a Primarch with them. All the power of the Warp didn't mean much. Even Daemon Princes and Greater Daemons struggled against such might.

He turned to one of his Plague Sorcerers. "Gather some of our captives, and prepare an offering. The Greater Daemon of Nurgle should give us the strength we need to face a Primarch."

Guilliman sat within his command throne, and jammed his armored finger in the direction of the Chaos Fleet. It was massive, almost evenly matched with his own, as he gave the command to the united Imperial Fleet.

"All Ships, move forward, and concentrate your strength into the central ranks of the Traitor Filth. We will split their fleet in two, and open a path onto Tvola." He declared, as the fleets' engines roared and the ships pushed forward, Battleships, Frigates and various other marks and models ready. "Fire on my mark!"

The Honor of Macragge took the forefront, Chaos Battleships and Cruisers moving into position to unload Lance fire and torpedo barrages. The Imperial Vessels shook and rumbled with every strike, void shields flickering and flashing from every hit, Chaos unable to penetrate the larger vessels, while the smaller ones kept close to the larger ones and out of sight, so they could get within range of the Chaos fleet without being swatted aside. The fleet remained all-ahead full, not even releasing their fighters, as the Chaos forces took pot shots and fired off a few rounds, but maintained their position.

The one placed in charge of the Fleet, Zaaras, sat on his throne, fingers drumming across the end of his Maul's handle, glaring at the Loyalist fleet, before signaling to the other ships. "Let them come, and open up to let them through. Our battle is on the surface. The fleet is merely a distraction."

The Chaos Armada began to part, anticipating Guilliman's maneuver, as Zaaras sent a hail to the Fleet. One of the Ultramar officers looked on in shock, before turning to the Primarch.

"Lord Regent, the Chaos Lord at the head of the fleet is sending a hail to us." He reported, voice shaky and uncertain.

Guilliman looked surprised, his brow furrowing, as he tried to come up with a reason to explain why the Chaos forces would do such a thing in the middle of the battle. Finally, he simply nodded to the Astropath and Officers. "Put them through."

Zaaras' booming, mighty voice echoed through the flagship, even as the two fleets exchanged Lance fire, and fighters poured out of both fleets' hangars, Roboute's face remaining stoic and stern in the face of it. "Ah, hail to you, Primarch of the 13th Legion, and Master of your dearest realm. I am Lord Zaaras, one of the Tributary Lords of the Brotherhood of Darkness."

"Your courtesy and manners do you credit. I will return such politeness, Zaaras, and kill you cleanly." Roboute replied coldly, his own voice far more powerful, and far more booming without any effort.

Zaaras seemed shaken for a moment, swallowing audibly, before chuckling lightly. "Aye, I am sure you could, but my dear Lord, your fight isn't here. My master, Lord Teridax, and the others, wish for you to make it planetside with your forces."

"Do you think I am a fool? That I lived through the Crusade and the wars beyond by falling for such an obvious trap?" Guilliman responded.

Zaaras chuckled, shrugging within the command bridge. "Our masters' goal is not simply to kill you Primarch. There are far greater things at play. The things I have seen on Tharnis Prime would make even you not believe it were real."

"What do you ramble about now, traitor?"

"Head on down, and see for yourself." Zaaras taunted, before closing communications.

Communications closed, and Guilliman did not waste a second, nodding to the Astropath to give the order to the rest of the fleet, who soon responded to the attacks and strikes from Chaos, with a full salvo of their weapons. Lance broadsides, torpedo barrages, and Nova Canon strikes tore and ripped through space, striking and tearing through Void shields, then armor. It seemed Chaos had been hopeful he would take the bait, and send his forces down. Guilliman intended, of course, but he wasn't going to liberate Tvola, until the Chaos Fleet felt his tender mercies.

The battle continued, the Chaotic wretches not completely caught unawares, and returning fire with as much fury and zeal as their loyalist brethren. Boarding Torpedoes were fired, crazed Berzerkers and Possessed Marines sent into the hulls of their foes, tearing apart Imperial Voidsmen with all the glee and satisfaction of an eager child in a toy store, eager to have more then what they could possibly need. In turn, the Imperial Fleet launched their own, brave Imperial Voidsmen strike teams and many, many zealous and mad Black Templars tearing into the ship, and disgorging within to take the fight within the maddening interiors of the Chaos Fleet.

Once the space above was littered with the twisted, burning wreckage of Chaos fleets, Roboute gave a cold, satisfied nod, rose from his command throne, and spoke once more. "The path is clear. Let us accept the invitation our dear Chaotic kin gave to us, and meet them at Tvola."

He turned to Ventris. "Captain, you have command of the Flagship. Ensure our fury is directed and coordinated well."

Uriel nodded, giving an eager grin. "It'll be my honor, my lord."

Personally, he had partially wished to be with the Primarch, planetside, and face whatever threat was down there alongside him, but Ventris was a Proud Song of Ultramar. He would not rush off with sword or hammer in hand and bash whatever got in his way repeatedly until it stopped moving. And, more personally, he hated the arrogant tone of that Chaos Lord in charge. Above all, he couldn't wait to send the wretch into the void.

The battle pushed onwards, Battleships and frigates breaking off in different sections, each lead by a certain Chapter fleet, the Emperor's Shadows and Black Templars leading one offense, the Genesis Chapter breaking off to the right to lead another attack against the Nurglite Fleet. Right down the middle, the Ultramarine Fleet continued its offensive, Nova Canons and other weapons leaving nothing but burning wreckage across the void. As they pushed on, fighter and bomber wings flew down to the surface, coordinated by the officers of the Imperial Fleet, and began strafing runs on Chaos positions, multiple tanks and vehicles shredding by Autocanon fire or the barrage of bombs dropped on them, Chaos forces running for cover as they were hit.

As the fighters cleared the area, they flew back up before anti-air could be brought to bear, as gunships from the Imperial fleets flew down, countless fresh Guardsmen, Space Marines, Skitarii Vanguard and Rangers, and Battle Sisters checking and preparing their weapons. The first wave of Guardsmen prepared their lasguns and other weapons, one making the sign of the Aquila with one hand, silently praying they'd make it through, as the battle raged outside, ship shaking and shuddering as Chaos aircraft roared into the skies to intercept. Imperial fighters provided cover and escort, Valkyries lighting up the stormy skies with fire.

Some of the gunships were hit with Warp fire and daemonic missiles, crashing and splintering to pieces and smashing into the city, while others made the ordeal and landed, the Vendettas slamming into the ground, as Sergeants and Commissars within shouted orders to their troops to hit the ground running and be prepared for anything. The doors opened, and the first few in the city were wiped out in an instant, malefic bolts of Sorcererous lightning surging out and vaporizing the first few Guardsmen, Chaos Sorcerers and Rogue Psykers bringing their horrific gifts to bear, before the next wave came up, Guardsmen of countless regiments charging and firing lasguns and other rounds into the first traitors to meet them, Cultists and Beastmen cut down, bodies shredded to a pulp by the concentrated las fire.

Thunderhawks swooped into, firing a barrage of shells and missiles into the Chaotic forces next, scattering them, as the doors opened, and Marines jumped out, smashing into the ground with their incredible weight and mass, bringing their weapons to bear, and firing at the Chaos Space Marines, who eagerly rushed to meet. Primaris and Firstborn alike rushed to face the foe, Black Templars drawing their massive Great Swords, met with the fury of the Khornate Berzerkers, sword and ax slashing and striking against each other with a fury few could match. The Berzerkers howled and roared their rage, met with the cold, bitter silence of the Black Templars, before more forces came to fight, Ultramarines in blue, the light red of the Genesis Marines, Black and Dark blue Emperor's Shadows bringing their Bolters to bear, their Powered Armor patterned off lacquered armor, their crimson sergeants, with helmets modeled after their homeworld's "Oni", lead the charge, thin and elegant Power Swords in hand.

The Chaos forces did not retreat or cower from the loyalists, answering Bolter fire with their own, Beastmen armed with Great Axes or twin cleavers charging heedless into battle, Bloodletters and Plague Bearers joining them in the great melee.

Dreadnoughts lumbered through, grinding anything they caught in their claws to paste, the ones with Plasma Canons and Auto Canons quickly shooting everything before them into nothing but pieces of meat, while Predators and Leman Russ Tanks clashed with the disgusting, befouled tanks of the Chaos forces, Daemon Engines roaring in a twisted, nauseating parody of living beasts.

Genobaude spotted the Marshal of these Black Templars, his surcoat partially red from dried blood, a Great Power Sword in hand, and charged, grinning madly. Among the Loyalists, there were none quite so fun to fight as those in the Black Templars.

'Such mad and broken wretches! All the better to take the skulls from!' He thought, running forward, a few of the Primaris Marine Swordsmen trying to stop him, before he quickly ducked and parried their blows, and slashed through them with his chainswords. "Weak newborns!"

He swung both blades, the Marshal blocking the strike with his blade, the chains clanking hard against his wrist armor. He was a bald man, a slight, white beard across his chin, stern glare, a scar over his left eye and check, and a smaller one across his opposite check. He glared down the raving brute with nothing but quiet disgust and a slight shake of the head, more like a parent disappointed in his child for throwing a tantrum then a foe facing his enemy.

"I am Lord Genobaude! I have spilled the blood of a thousand warriors like you!" He snarled, snapping his teeth at him as if to bite.

"Marshal Holden Cross. You're spitting like a dog." He replied simply, before twisting the blade about and shoving the man aside.

He went for another strike, Genobaude deflecting with one blade, as he went for the throat with his other. Holden wretched his blade free calmly took two steps back and avoided the blade, as the Khornate Lord pushed his attack, swinging his blades. There was a tempo to them, not quite the mad hewing of most Berzerkers of the Pagan Blood God, Holden carefully measuring every strike and parrying from the other, attacking and striking when he could. His Templars and other Marines met the Lord's entourage of killers and Khornate marines in battle, Swords and axes clashing and cutting against each other.

Genobaude could practically hear the praises of Khorne for his bloody tally and the deaths going on int the city. The ground grew slick with splayed organs, mixed with blood and mud, many of the Guardsmen and Cultists slipping and struggling to keep their footing, not caring for the macabre, merely on surviving and providing the needed support to the Space Marines. Viscera sprayed from Loyalists, Cultists were torn open, Chaos Marines were gutted and ripped open, violence all about.

Holden remained stoic, even as blood and sweat was smeared and dripping over his face. Whatever happened around him was merely a distraction. There was only the battle here and now, between him and this screaming cur that had dared spit in his face. It wasn't like he expected manners or cordial behavior on a battlefield, but some basic decorum would be nice. They weren't Orks after all. As he parried and deflected another series of swings and strikes from Genobaude, and as he stepped forward to swing for his leg, only to spot another Berzerker charging at his left, two Chainaxes in hand.

Holden easily stepped and side-stepped the raving beast in Marine armor, before swinging his great sword about and slamming through the back of the creature, breaching his powered armor, and penetrating through the chest. He tore out the great sword, and charged again. Two Beastmen, armed with their rusted, dripping axes, charged, braying and barking at him, before Holden slashed one into three pieces with a few slices, before swinging the back of his armored fist into the Beastman's face, smashing its face to bloodied gore, and snapping its neck in an instant, continuing his charge at Genobaude.

"Impressive, Marshal! Impressive! Give me more!" Genobaude roared. "I hope Khorne lets me keep your skull as a favored trophy!"

"I will torture your body, so your soul maybe made humble." Holden replied bluntly, chains rattling against his wrist as he brought his mighty sword up again.

Genobaude gave an animalistic roar, charging again, as Holden prepared himself. The rain pounded around them, artillery and gunfire still going off as Holden kept his stance, waiting for the Berzerker to close. Time seem to slow around them, Holden merely focused on what was coming at him, ignoring the chaos of battle. Genobaude grinned madly, the blacks of his eyes widening til they seemed to take up the entirety of his orbs, gripping both blades tightly, as he closed to engage. Both swords swung downwards at him, as Holden swung his Great Sword and caught them, the teeth groaning and pushing against his blade.

The two stood for a moment, locked in battle, before pushing each other away, and swinging in a blind fury of blows and strikes, each countering and parrying the other in a blur that the human eye would struggle to follow. As they attacked and defended, drop pods fell throughout the city, bringing yet more Marines into the battle. The ground shuddered and shook as the pods smashed into the streets and buildings, Marines of all Chapters charging out and firing without hesitation. Genobaude did not care much, continuing his strikes against Holden, until another drop slammed into the ground, almost throwing the two into the air, as the Khornate lord turned.

The doors opened, as the tower frame of Roboute Guilliman came charging out, his wrist mounted bolter roaring like rocket fire. Genobaude looked upon a figure that made him look like a mortal, and grinned, charging with both sword, before a Warp portal opened, Teridax's talon appearing in front of him, grabbing him and yanking him in, before it closed behind both. Genobaude stumbled onto the plains outside the city, where other Chaos Marines and Cultists were coming out of portals, and glared up at Teridax in absolute rage.

"What the shit fuck?!" He roared like a wounded animal.

"Idiot! That is Roboute Guilliman. A damn Primarch of all things!" Teridax snarled, as Gangrothus shook his head in dismay.

"So? Big head means bigger rewards from Khorne." Genobaude retorted.

"Are you stupid?" Gangrothus grumbled, shaking his head, before taking a wheezing breath. "A mere Chaos Lord is not killing a Primarch."

"He's old, probably out of practice." Genobaude responded with a shrug.

Gangrothus and Teridax both looked at him in disbelief, turning to the other as if to confirm what they had just heard. "You...you know Guilliman has been in stasis for about 10 millennia. He hasn't aged a day."

Genobaude furrowed his brow, looking at the both as if they were pulling a silly prank. "Seriously? The Imperium can do that?"

"Ridiculous. Why the Chaos Gods don't keep you with the Brayherds and other animals is beyond me," Gangrothus growled, his voice an acidic wheeze. "Do you Khornate-touch think only of killing, maiming, and making thrones out of skulls?"

The Plague Lord began to turn and walk away, as Genobaude slammed his foot down. "Bigot! I'm a Chaos Lord of Khorne! We use skulls for everything, what other use do they have when they're cut off and de-fleshed?"

Teridax followed behind Gangrothus, leaving Genobaude to fume to himself, the two making their way through the ad-hoc supply base and forward command post they had set up, near the center of it, a massive alter, of course lined with barbed spikes, flayed and disemboweled corpses and Cultists of both the Brotherhood and Leprotic Legion. They were pilling up the captured civilians and soldiers of Tvola, splitting open their bodies and throwing them on the pile, flies buzzing about the pile, as Gangrothus watched. There, for whatever reason, was the Tzeentchian Herald, Vffarith'Fyrm.

"Is this the work towards a Greater Daemon?" Teridax asked quietly, observing the ritual from a respectful distance.

"Aye. The creature I'm summoning has had a long history as Grandfather Nurgle's plague-spreader," Gangrothus explained to the other Lord. "For example, he was summoned by the Chaos Witch, She whose Power Sparkles in the Twilight, to spread cancerous growths to an entire Hive-city."

"Sparkles in Twilight?" Teridax sputtered. "Ridiculous name. Sounds like a child's toy."

Vffarith'fyrm chuckled to himself, as the Lord of the Brotherhood turned to him in annoyance. "What is it Daemon?"

"Nothing, nothing, Lord Teridax." The Herald of Tzeentch chuckled.

Gangrothus rolled his milky-white eyes, sighing to himself. "We are almost ready to summon it. You might want to leave, Herald."

"We are all here to oversee a great plan for all four, the Great Game's on hold." Vffarith'fyrm responded with a shrug, tapping his staff into the ground. "Though you have Vashtorr and four Chaos Titan strike forces incoming. Why summon one more Greater Daemon?"

"It spoke to me from one of my Sorcerers. Insisted on being allowed to assist in this battle. Why, I do not know." Gangrothus explained. "I presume it is part of Nurgle's plan."

'Nurgle does not plan. The old, stodgy fool of a God's brain is too rotted." Vffarith thought with a dismissive shake of the head.

One of the plague Champions, another bloated, half-rotted warrior, his jaws tattered and diseased, tubes running into his mouth and throat, with one eye gone, and the other a sickly yellow, stepped forward. Gangrothus reached to his side, pulling out an ancient book, bound in the tanned leather of human skin, its page old and yellowed. He opened it, implanting his scythe into the ground, before paging through it, and finding the passage he needed.

He chanted in ancient Chaos tongue, a low, rhythmic chanting, the air growing thicker and the stench of death and disease becoming stronger and stronger with every word spoken. A sickly green fog began to envelop the area, Teridax grunting in slight discomfort at the smell hitting his nose. He was not new to the rituals of the Nurglites. Despite his allegiances to the Changer of Ways, his Warband was by all account Undivided. It didn't mean, however, he enjoyed the scent of rot and disease. The chanting continued on, the fog enveloping the Champion further and further, gathering around him like a shroud. He was lifted up, the swirling masses of flies, miasma and disease carrying upwards, the Champion releasing a groan of satisfaction.

"Finally!" Were his last words, before an explosion of gore and rotted organs was thrown to the ground, the Cultists and gathered Chaos Marines stepping back and shielding themselves, as the Great Unclean One slammed into the ground, cranking it apart on impact.

Teridax had parlayed and made pacts with many Daemons in his time. You do not rise to become a Chaos Lord of his rank and caliber without binding some to your will, and tricking others. But this one was quite different from the other Great Unclean Ones he had deal with. For one, it was mostly thin, body more elongated. Its arms were long and wiry, and instead of a Plague Sword, it carried a great, massive, square-shaped Ax on its shoulder, its small arms somehow hefting it one handed. It had a pot belly, and molded green skin, resembling keloid scars, with long, reptilian snout, long, matted yellow hair and twisted, rotted antlers from his head.

"Who summons me from the Warp?" The Daemon rasped, yellow eyes looking around, before focusing on Gangrothus.

"Great Daemon, Aruiteriu Yurei, I, Gangrothus, Chaos Lord of Nurgle, have brought you here with a great sacrifice to you and Grandfather Nurgle." The Lord said, ripping his Man Reaper free and bowing, as did the other Chaos worshippers.

Aruiteriu nodded slowly, seemingly satisfied. "Good. The time of reaping has come. It has been a long time since my Masakiri cleaved through succulent flesh. My dearest family has forgotten about me, but I will remind them."

The Daemon disappeared, opening a rift into the Warp and teleporting elsewhere, as Teridax looked to Gangrothus for answers. "What did that mean?"

The Chaos Lord of Nurgle shrugged again. "I do not question a Daemon, I just do as they ask, and read the fine print, so to speak, when making deals."

"Probably wise, all things considered." Teridax remarked, before turning back to the base, watching as most of their forces had gathered again. "Guilliman is here, as are a massive force of Imperial forces lead by the Ultramarines. What exactly is Vashtorr waiting for?"

The two Lords turned to Vffarith'Fyrm, but the Daemon had no answers. "Don't look at me. I am merely a servant of Tzeentch that helped the servants and armies of Chaos come together. Vashtorr does his own machinations, without the Gods' interference."

Teridax sighed in annoyance to himself. This was the problem with dealing with Chaos Daemons you did not have contract or binding for. The chances they would actually help you and not sabotage your assaults and plans to further their own path to glory, or simply because their mercurial whims felt like destroying a mortal servant at the time. Gangrothus' diseased eyes held the same look of tired weariness.

"We are not separated now, we can concentrate our forces and hit the Corpse-Emperor's followers at our leisure." Gangrothus offered, trying to make the best of an uncertain situation.

"I will direct my Traitor Guard and Defiler artillery to strike as much of the city as I can," Teridax reported. "We can soften up the targets well enough before we hit them."

He activated the microbead in his ear. "Amelia, report at once."

"Yes lord." She replied quickly.

"Is your strike team still in the city?" He asked, voice terse and controlled.

"Yes, lord." She repeated quietly.

"Feed information and positions to me on Imperial locations, and remain out of sight." He ordered.

Some would find it odd to rely on Cultists for that information, but Teridax knew Chaos Space marines well enough to know they would not have the patience for such delicate work, nor the ability to infiltrate into important territories. She and her people had at least shown some aptitude in subversion and terrorist strategies. It was time to see if they could make it work.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Roboute Guilliman stood in the aftermath of the battle, the bodies of Loyalist and Traitor Marines and soldiers all around him. He looked over the deployment of troops, Sentinels moving quickly through the streets, followed by platoon after platoon of various Guardsmen. The last traitors, Beastmen, Cultists and Marines, too injured to get away through the Warp by their Sorcerers, were lined up, Emperor's Shadows Marines putting a bolt in each one's head, one at a time, before dumping them into a pit filled with promethium.

He took a heavy breath in, and sighed to himself, as Cato and Holden marched beside him. "Do you two think this was a poorly planned invasion on their part?"

"I presumed it was supposed to be a quick raid, hoping the Ultramarines would be exhausted by the Plague Wars." Holden stated, leaning heavily on his Great Sword. "Clearly, they overestimated themselves."

"The Lord in charge of their flagship said he had surprise for us," Sicarius remarked, looking around the city wearily. "Given what we have faced before, I wish one of those Xeno Witches had journeyed with us."

"Focus, we are the Imperium's finest. We need no witch-sight or prophecy, when our natural skills and abilities can overcome." Guilliman commanded sternly. "Place your faith in our abilities, and we will always have victory."

Cato nodded, feeling as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes. "So long as we have faith in the Emperor, victory is certain."

Roboute touched his ear, activating the Microbead. "General Garvis Locke, are you reporting?"

"Yes, my lord." Locke responded.

"I am honored to have Kauravans serving with my Ultramarines," Guilliman stated in a admiring tone. "The way you avenged the Blood Ravens against the Orks was quite impressive."

"The words of praise from a direct son of the Emperor fill me with pride sir," Locke replied, trying to sound cordial and controlled, in spite of his wheeling pride. "Tell me, where you need us Guardsmen."

"Gather the officers, and I will allow all of you to serve the Emperor." The Primarch stated.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The ranks of Imperial Guard and Space Marines. The Praetorians removed their pith helmets and pushed their hair back, shaking their heads slightly, while the Minthay brushed off their blue, brigandine, what looked like small parts of steel over the their red-clothed arms. Their red helmets bore a strange yellow rune embossed into the centered of their helmets.

One of the Praetorians looked up, pulling out a package of corpse starch, as the Minthay did the same, all in syncopated movement. "So, what's with the letter on the helmet?"

One of the Minthay soldiers briefly touched the helmet, as if to remove it, before nodding slightly. "Oh, it means 'brave', back home on Minthay."

"Oh, so are you gents brave?" The Praetorian asked with a slight grin.

"Ha! No. Only when Space Marines are nearby, or a Commissar breathing down our necks." The Select Trooper chuckled, shacking his head.

"Ah, so we're the only regiment that deserves our special uniforms then." Another Praetorian laughed, taking a spoonful of starch and chewing it before swallowing. "None braver then us boys in red."

"Fine, you can keep the bravery, I wanna go home alive, if the Emperor so wishes." Another Minthay replied with a sideways grin.

The two platoons laughed, a few taunts and jokes exchanged in the rubble and trenches dug and prepared through the city. As they did, the squad of PDF troopers, Garik's squad, marched up, shoulders slumped and their faces smeared with mud, dirt and blood, before flopping down to sit with the two platoons. The Minthay looked to them with surprise, while the Praetorians looked more wearily at them.

"Tvolans, huh? Still standing with us?" One of the Minthay troopers remarked.

"Yeah, we're still here, somehow." Garik remarked.

"Surprised you lot haven't gone traitor." A Praetorian replied gruffly, glaring slightly at them.

Garik looked surprised for a moment, before another Praetorian spoke up. "We've had a few fights. The PDF either are useless fodder, or help the enemies of the Imperium."

"It's our homes on the line." Kolm replied in shock, not sure how any soldier of the Imperium could question their alignment and loyalty.

"Plenty of PDF have put their home ahead of Imperium, even if it means selling their souls," The Praetorian Trooper said, narrowing his eyes at them. "We'll see if you're any different by the end."

Garik stepped forward to give them a piece of his mind, before Vodun slammed his mighty arm into his chest and knocked him back a bit, knocking the breath out of him for a second, as he shook his head.

"We've served plenty of times under the Imperial Regent," Vodun stated firmly, never taking his eyes off either group. "Tvola still stands because we paid in blood here."

The Praetorians did not look like they believed it, but one of the Minthay signaled for them PDF to sit with them. The PDF squad all lumbered slowly, sitting numbly among the rumble with the Imperial Guard.

"Don't worry none. Most PDF we encounter fold like wet paper," The Minthay sergeant replied, a Power Sword sheathed at his side. "The fact your forces were able to stay alive speaks volumes."

Garik leaned back into the dirt of the trench, sighing slightly as he did. "I was serving in the Plague Wars under the Imperial Regent. Thought I'd at least go a few years without almost dying."

The sergeant laughed, pulling out a cask and uncorking it, before taking a sharp swig. "In this galaxy? No one lives to old age except the sackless Dafu."

"Dafu?" Kolm asked.

The sergeant, nodded, as if remembering he wasn't home anymore. "On Minthay, we're ruled by a lot of scholar-bureaucrats that help the adminstratium and all. The lowest rungs do the fighting for them."

"Lovely world." Kolm remarked

"You don't know the half of it," The sergeant remarked, handing over the flask to him. "Dynastic feuds, Ork barbarians. Can't get a decent week without some new Emperor-damned horror."

Kolm took a sip from it, grunting from the sharp taste and burning in his throat, before passing it to the rest of the squad. "So, how do you deal with it?"

"Us? We're the Select Infantry. We just bring heavy weapons," The Sergeant said with a wry grin. "Benefits of our Bureaucrats. No other regiment gets as many Heavy bolters, Lascanons, Autocanons and the rest as us. And hopefully, we'll live to use em!"

Garik took it next, shuddering a bit, as a Commissar attached to the Praetorians came by. "Alright, wrap up your food, and take up positions, it's time to take watch!"

The Sergeant of the Minthay nodded, as the Guardsmen sealed and put away their corpse starch and grabbed their Lasguns and weapons, and took up positions. The Praetorians and PDF of Tvola followed suite, Garik checking his Lasgun and taking up position. All across the boundaries and limits of Jovor, guns trained for any sign of the attacks. His squad felt out of place among the colorful troops of the Guard with him, but it felt damn good to not be outnumbered this time.

The Commissar brandished his Power Sword. "Stay the line troops, and hold position! We do that and the day is already half-way won!"

He hadn't heard the plan, Garik just going with his squad where they were told, and was told to simply hold the trenches and lines outside the city and keep the Chaos forces from entering for as long as possible. The troopers waited, Minthay prepping their Autocanons and Heavy Bolter teams, while Cadians and Kauravans prepared their tanks and artillery for what was to come. They waited at the trenches and defenses, aiming hard. Further in and around the city, were Space Marines of the various Chapters, prepared all around the city, and ready to deploy where the fighting was worse and crush the foes.

For several minutes, there was nothing, the Guard and remaining PDF troopers of Tvola standing rigid and stiff, their nerves on edge, prepared for whatever was to come. It seemed that nothing was going to happen, the troopers, platoon after platoon standing and kneeling, on edge and nervous. Garik didn't know what to think right now, his mind practically empty. What was there to think when you were about to be thrown into battle. There were no regrets, no worries. He was so utterly focused and intent on the horizon, there was nothing else for him to focus in on.

Then, over the horizon, a few forms were spotted. Bearing gasmasks and the tattered cloths and ramshackle armor, were the Chaos Cultists of the various Warbands, joined by the beastmen and mutants as well. They charged, heedless of the danger they were heading into. Their eyes were wide with a hunger for death and destruction, their minds frayed by the powers of the Warp. It was kill or be killed, and for the Cultists of Chaos, the latter was far more likely. They got within range, the heavy caliber bullets immediately opening fire and tearing through the fire few grunts in-sight.

As Weapon Teams opened fire, Chaos Tanks moved past them, grinding down any fallen comrades into meat, soaking the treads in blood and gore, before bringing their main battle canons about and firing. Guiliman spied the approaching tanks from a distance and brought his finger up to the microbead.

"General Garvis, bring the Basilisks to bear."

As the Kauravan and Cadian artillery worked the mechanisms, brought the great canons upwards, and began to input the coordinates to where their strikes would go. The shells were loaded and prepared, before the Chaos Lord Teridax contacted his own set of Chaos Basilisks and Defilers.

"I am sending you coordinates, bring your fire to bear." The Chaos Lord ordered coldly.

The Chaos Basilisks and Defilers brought their weapons to bear, and fired on the areas marked by Teridax and his Chosen for them to hit. Across the city, numerous explosions and pillars of smoke rose from the city, several of the Imperial Guard artillery pieces hit and exploding in a fireball infero that consumed portions of the city. Gangrothus watched the whole affair alongside Teridax, milk-like eyes widened in surprise, as he slowly looked to the other Chaos Lord.

"I once questioned why you gave your Cultist minions so much strength and equipment," The Plague Lord remarked in shock. "Now I can see why."

"Strong canon fodder is much more effective then weak fodder." Teridax explained, tapping his power claws together.

As the artillery was struck and blasted into ruins, Guilliman's eyes flared in shock and surprise, before turning to one of the Imperial Officer. "Activate the City-wide Void Shield!"

The Void Shield generator popped and fizzled, power surging through it, before bursting to life. Bursting through the skies and the edges of it slamming down, just ahead of the trenches. The first few Cultist mobs and Beastmen were beginning to close and jump into the enemy ranks, before the Void Shields sliced clean through them, the lucky ones losing an arm or foot, and thrown backwards, while others sliced perfectly in half, their front half and organs flopping on the inside of the shield, the back half left on the outside. Those who were inside the shield turned and looked in surprise, to see the city-wide Void shield, as the Guard took advantage, opening fire with las and plasma fire, and cutting them down in short order.

Chaos shells and las blasts hit the Void Shields, explosions and strikes making it distort and flicker from impact, but doing nothing to shatter it. Teridax's eyes widened, looking to Gangrothus for a moment, before looking back to the other Lord, then to the Shield, blinking several times as if in disbelief.

"The damn thing has a Void shield?!" He shouted in rage.

"If only we had the Titans with us." Gangrothus stated, more to himself then to the other lord.

Teridax clicked into the vox channels again, getting on the private frequencies. "Amelia! Answer at once!"

The channel buzzed and crackled for a moment, before she answered. "My lord, please, there are patrols all around city. We can't be loud."

"Whatever. Grab your weapons and equipment, and find the Void Shield generator." He stated. She was surprised for a moment, before he continued. "Find the generator, plant explosives, and level the damn thing, understand?"

"We'd have to find it, and it could be..." She began.

"I don't care. Do it and be done." He said, before cutting off the vox channels.

Stood within the top of a ruined apartment room, partially bombed out, her troops hidden in the various corners and areas of the apartment, watching for any sign of Imperial patrols that might be a threat to them. The elite troops of her Cult were not simple rabble, armed with pistols and whatever melee tools they could get their hands on. They Carapace armor, colored the same as the Brotherhood of Damnation's Space Marines, and bearing serrated spikes across the shoulders and wrists, with small chains bearing severed hands along their waists. They wore large black and silver masks, with tubes running up to the sides of them, and packs bearing all their specialized weapons and equipment needed for missions like this. In their capacity for war on Tharnis Prime, the Cult her forebearers and leaders had cultivated had gone through great effort to secure the training of better quality troops from PDF and Guard veterans loyal to their cause. These troops were one sign of that.

Amelia was dressed in similar Carapace Armor, but her and the Sergeant bore white face paint as well, though only partially visible under their masks and helmets. She turned to the Kill Team. "We have a Void Shield Generator to take down."

"Those tend to be in a secure location, usually further down from the city power generators, if they're anything like Tharnis Prime." The Sergeant stated. "Key will be finding where all the power generators and all are located."

"A member of the PDF will have it." Amelia said, holding up her Hot-Shot Pistol, as the rest of the squad packed up their weapons and equipment. "Find one of them, extract the information, and move on."

A voice sounded from the streets below, the Death Squad taking cover around the ruined habitation-apartment, and peaking around. A squad of Kauravans, most carrying Lasguns, two with Grenade Launchers, their eyes looking around for any sign of enemies within the city. The Death Brigade Commandos simply watched them, weapons primed and ready for a moment. The Kauravans marched past, one of them holding a hand to his microbead and speaking something into it to command. The Imperial Guard disappeared out of sight down the many spiraling streets.

Once the squad was sure they were gone, they moved away, and began speaking again. The sergeant spoke first to Amelia. "They'll be ammo depots and supply stations set up around the station. The PDF are either stationed there, or on the frontlines, when Imperial Guard show up, in case they got traitor."

"An ammo and supply depot should be easy to pick out." She replied simply.

Another Commando spoke up. "I saw Battle Sisters and Mechanicus Skitarii all over the city as well, so we have more then just Space Marines and Guard to fight."

"We'll move silently and in the shadows, and not let ourselves be seen," She stated, before looking over the dome of a shield over the city. "Though why the masters don't deploy the Titans yet, I have no idea. This city's shields are no where near that of actual hive cities."

"Wasn't a part of the Alpha Legion supposed to be helping us?" Another Commando pipped up. "Where are they? Or are they in a loyalist mood?"

"As always, what they do is different then the other Space Marine masters," Amelia stated, before pointing on her mask and gear over her face. "Let's just do our part, and ensure the Dark Gods' victory."

They all nodded, and began to move through the ruined city. It was quick and silent, the Chaos Commandos not wasting any time to pause or dally about. They needed to move quickly. Every one of them knew without Titan weaponry, it would take hours of grinding attacks to wear down that shield, plenty of time for the defenders to strike at the attacking enemy and wear down their forces from safety.

It was clear to Amelia, quite well in fact, what her purpose here was. She may have lead the Tharnis Prime Cult, but a Chaos Marine Lord would not allow mere mortals to hold positions of power within his warband. Zaaras may have been adaptable to the needs of battle, but Teridax was the leader here.

Still, whatever Teridax had planned, all that mattered in the grand scheme of things, and the Great War, was that the Imperium was defeated. Her and the Chaos forces from Tharnis Prime were but a small price to pay to see the Corpse-Emperor's servants fall.

'After everything that Duke put us through. The corruption, the abuse. No more from this empire of lies.' She thought, biting her lip, trying to keep her anger contained.

She shook her head, taking a deep breath to calm herself. She couldn't afford to lose her head now, not in the midst of a combat situation. As the Cult had taught, Khorne's wrath was a source of strength, but to lose sight of the great battle plan and the strategies that accompanied was a shame to the Lord of Battle. She must keep her focus, attain victory for the Chaos God, channeling her fury into action, not simmering resentment.

The squadron moved quickly through the city, two Commandos ahead of the rest checking and ensuring there were no enemies up ahead and giving silent hand signals for them to move and change direction based on the flow of the city. As they bonded through the city, the one thing Amelia feared encountering was Skitarii. Their ability to instantly count with their Magos and command and rely information was the most dangerous feature of them. The two forward men signaled for them to move, the rest of the squad diving behind discarded vehicles and the ruins of buildings, and waiting for the targets to move.

The squad walking through were Mingthay Infantrymen, two armed with plasma guns, two with Grenade launchers, and the rest with the typical Lasgun. They moved quickly and efficiently, looking all around for any sign of enemies, before stopping, as their sergeant stopping to hit the Vox channel and speak to command.

"Yes sir, nothing to report sir." The Sergeant stated into the comms. "All hostiles have long been purged from the streets."

He waited, listening for several moments, before nodding into the vox bead. "Yes. Yes, of course sir, we'll continue searching."

He motioned to the Guardsmen, and the platoon continued on without much ado. As they left, the Commandos waited, further and further, until the sounds of their footsteps and chatter was long silent, and then began to make their way through the ruins of the city. Finally the two forward pointmen came to a stop, and signaled for Amelia and the Sergeant to come forward. The rest took up firing positions and concealed locations, the four knelt down behind a ruined building, to see a walled off area, with several boxes of supplies and munitions stored in one of the temporary ammo depots used by the Imperial Guard for siege warfare, quickly erected in a defensive fight.

The depot was surrounded by 4 soldiers of the Tvola Defense force, holding their lasguns tight. They looked around wearily, making sure nothing would ambush them on sentry duty. The Death Brigade members all looked to each other, silently nodding, knowing exactly what they needed to do. These Troopers were tougher then most PDF, but they weren't on the level professional, full-fledged Guardsmen. They would be easy lead away, and kill, as the Chaos Commandos so wished. The Sergeant gave out a variety of hand signals and commands, before the group separated into smaller teams, and set out to do their work.

While the Chaos Worshipers set about their plan, moving into position, the four Tvola soldiers were largely unaware, one even bored, smoking a cigarette while on sentry duty. "When does this fight wrap up? The Primarch's here, shouldn't chaos be running?"

"You think he can just snap his fingers and finish the fight?" One of the others asked in annoyance. "Were you even here during the Plague Wars?"

"Nah, too young to serve, and my town wasn't hit that bad," The Trooper admitted with a shrug. "But the stories said the Imperial Regent was unstoppable, holding back Chaos with limited forces and all."

"I'd hate to inform you, but even the Son of the Emperor isn't unstoppable." Another spoke up in annoyance. "A fight is a fight, regardless of whose leading the operation. It's gonna be some bloody shit before the night's over."

The first rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Part of the frustration came from guard duty. Being stuck back here, forced to guard some ammo supplies, when he and the rest of Tvola's fighting men and women should be out on the front, giving their blood for their world and giving Heretics what they deserved. Instead, they were sat back here, waiting for the fighting to end.

'Humiliating is what it is,' He thought, shaking his head in disgust. 'I want to earn my spot in the Emperor's favored.'

The sound of metal and rock being moved, and a voice of some kind muttering, snapped them all out of their break, snapping their lasguns up and pointing them in the direction of the noise. The voice continued, too low and too far away to hear distinct words, as one of the PDF soldiers gestured to the other two. The two slowly approached, heading towards one of the ruined buildings, trying to see anything out of the ordinary.

"Hey, anyone in there, come out now!" One of the PDF soldiers ordered. "If you're loyal to the Emperor, get out now so we don't shoot you."

They heard a rustle of someone moving in the ruins, but it was too darkened to see much of anything. The two looked to each other nervously, shifting their weight about, before slowly approaching. They stepped through the large, ruined doorway, the door itself blown off the hinges, sent further out into the city from whatever bomb or artillery had struck the building, the inside filled with rubble, and the ruins of the statues of past Imperial heroes, and shattered Aquilas. The two made their way in, the silence all encompassing, feeling as if they were being closed in. Both PDF Troopers could feel something watching them from the shadows. The two climbed through the rubble, the area darker and darker as they went, the suffocating silence growing worse by the minute.

They heard the shuffle of feet, turning around and about the room, scanning the room for the signs of anything living in the area. Perhaps it was just some rodents or some other scavenger that was scampering about. The two were about to relax, when two of the Chaos Commandos rushed out from behind them, grabbing both by the mouth, and in one quick, brutal strike, sliced open their throats with long knives, their flak armor completely coated in warm, red blood. The two dropped them to the ground, the two gagging and choking on their own blood, as it pooled out beneath them. The two looked to each other, nodded and slammed their boots down on their heads, before moving on. The two that remained, looked towards the broken, shattered building, looking to each other for a moment. As they watched the building, the Commando Sergeant and Amelia came up behind both, Amelia striking her pistol against the back of his head, the Commando Leader swinging his power sword, first striking off the PDF soldier's right arm at the elbow, before swinging up and stabbing him through the chest.

Amelia clicked her microbead on. "Site secure. Prepare the building for interrogation."

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The final PDF soldier awoke, groggy, eyes struggling open as he groaned, shaking his head. His vision was still blurry, the soldier rolling his shoulders slightly, before trying to move his hands to rub his forehead. He felt them restrained, unable to move, before he fully awoke, looking around himself to see he was bound to a chair, arms tied behind, his helmet and microbead removed, and the room was quiet, dingy place, the place completely darkened, obviously deeper underground compared to the bombed out building his peers had gone into. He breathed hard, looking for any sign of his captors, before footsteps echoed through the shadowy room. He turned in the direction, the steps getting closer and closer.

The four that came out resembled the descriptions he had read of Kaskrin and Stormtroopers that were part of the Imperial Guard, with heavy carapace armor and equipment on them, but colored red and black, and with spikes and blades along the wrists. Two of them held Hot-Shot Lasguns, marked with Chaos markings and iconography, while the third held a Hell-Pistol and Power Sword, activating it and causing a soft red glow to spread through the room. The leader was a woman, also dressed in the same armor, arms folded behind her as she approached the soldier.

"Chaos?! How did you heretics get into Jovor?!" He demanded in anger, spitting every word at them.

Amelia was unimpressed, simply shaking her head in disappointment. "This sort of pathetic patriotism doesn't matter. Your Emperor won't come down on a magic cloud to answer your prayers, the Reborn Primarch won't swoop in with his sycophants to kill us."

"What are you here for, huh? More Cultists sent to get yourselves killed? You're utterly disposable to them!" He taunted, grinning at them.

One of the Commandos clicked his teeth in disdain, moving to silence him with a knife, before Amelia's hand shot out. The others looked to her for a moment, frozen in the spot, before nodding and stepping back.

"Do you think your deaths will be remembered at all, by the Imperium? That it will have meaning?" Amelia asked, stepping up to him, looming over him, standing tall and commanding, her arms folded behind her. "My people slaved for years under an uncaring Duke, who worked those like me and you to the bone, and threw us in the incinerators when we were too old, too weak, too broken to be of use."

"Your world ain't mine," The PDF Trooper stated. "You're ruled by a Duke. Our governor's an elected Prime Minister."

Amelia was briefly surprised by such a revelation, but it only ignited the fires of rage in her deeper. What made Tvola so special that it deserved better leadership then hers? Without missing a beat, she continued, summoning all the passion and fury she had been taught to utilize with her speeches to potential recruits.

"What makes your world so special then? Mine gets subjected to a tyrant who rules because his father did, and his father did, and his father did. No choice, no freedom, just endless toil and slavery." She said, every word dripping with pure hatred.

"Every Planetary Governor rules with the Emperor's sanction!" He protested. "If he wanted our world to chose, and yours to not, there had to be reason!"

"Reason? What reason does he have? He died when Horus slew him, put into that False Throne to keep his useless essence tied to his dying Empire." She laughed, shaking her head at his naive assumptions.

"He ascended, that's how he's kept vigil over us, how the Imperial Regent returned to lead us out of darkness!" The Soldier continued. "You're all weak. You lost hope and faith at the worst hour in our history, but Guilliman will pull us our of it!"

"Oh really? When Four Chaos Warbands are rampaging through a system right next to his sanctified realm, right after Mortarion and his forces already fought the Ultramarines?" She questioned, sneering with disdain at him. "If he has such power, why is he hiding behind a shield, why isn't he smiting them with ease? How is he not even ready for the next phase in our plan?"

"Next Phase?" He asked, looking to the Chaos worshipers in disbelief.

Amelia laughed, the other Commandos joining her. "You don't realize it yet? This is just the prelude to a wider conflict. The Chaos Gods will bring Four Titan Maniples down on your world. Guilliman and whatever else opposes them will burn."

The Trooper was taken aback, looking at them in stunned silence, as Amelia continued. "You didn't know that? Isn't your Emperor all knowing, shouldn't his precious son know this attack is coming?"

He fell silent, blinking hard. Amelia turned away for a moment, smiling to herself. It was obvious doubts were now mounting within his mind. It was time to capitalize on them.

"He has Titans." He said, not sounding certain.

"Then why not deploy them?" She questioned, turning back around in an instant. "Think for yourself. The Titan Legions are a force multiplier, the answer to every problem humanity, both loyal or heretic, faces. Why would he not deploy them and sweep away my Lord's forces?"

"He has a plan..." He insisted, looking uncertain, before his eyes turned to steel. "No. I will not let you break me. The Imperial Regent himself is here. I will do Tvola proud, and not let you break me."

She leaned back, arms still folded behind her, her glare cold and wrathful, before she gave a defeated expression and a shrug. "Fine. Such a fine example of Imperial soldiery can't be broken so easily. I have no choice."

She turned to one of the Commandos. "Torture him. Long and hard."

The PDF soldier grinned, welcoming it. "Go ahead, I'll misdirect you then, on whatever you want. Whose to say I won't tell you something to end the pain?"

She turned, looking at him for a moment with a cold, indifferent expression, before speaking again. "Castrate him first."

The soldier's eyes widened, as did the other Commandos, turning to her in shock. The Sergeant spoke in shock. "What?"

"Someone once said, 'Many will sign for death, few will endure pain'," She explained coldly, her expression never changing, her eyes never blinking. "I want to test that theory, to the very limit, with this one."

"Now wait a second..." The soldier began to protest, eyes wide with fear.

"And feed them to him after you're done." She said, turning to one of the Commandos. "Slowly, inch by inch."

"Wait! Please!" The soldier practically screamed, Amelia's expression turning into a cold smile. "Whatever you want, I'll spill!"

"Truthfully? Because I won't kill you after we're done," She said, voice not rising above an octave. "I will keep you here, and if the information is wrong, I will fulfill my promise of feeding you your own...parts."

Tears began to well-up in his eyes, as he shook his head. "NO! Anything but that, please!"

"So you'll tell the truth? No deception?" She questioned, pulling out a combat knife in front of him.

"Anything you want to know!" He said, almost pleading.

She sheathed it, smiling coldly to him. "Good. Very Good. Where are this city's Void Shield Generators located at?"

"Sub-Level three, I can show you on a map!" He said desperately, eyeing the knife she had in terror.

She gestured to one of the commandos, who produced a physical model map of the city and its various levels. Another brought a work bench, laid it front of the man, before the first Commando put the map in front of him. The two stood over him, as Amelia looked over the levels, tracing her finger over the levels, before stopping at the under hives of the city, there being six underground levels. She kept her finger moving, as he guided her along.

"There, that area right there is where the Void Shield Generator." He said, Amelia tapping her finger twice, as he nodded. "Yes, that part, right there."

"Do you know the defenses?" Amelia asked, eyeing him wearily.

"A few squads of soldiers, but they might've changed, they're might be Skitarii or something else." He explained.

She nodded to one of the commandos, who circled the station area, the other three looking over the map, and trying to find a way into it from the various sub-levels below the city. The one with the map put away the map, before nodding to Amelia and the Sergeant. The four turned and left for the exit, as the soldier called out after them.

"What about me?" He asked desperately.

"We'll release you, after the job is done," Amelia explained over her shoulder. "Lie, and we die, and no one knows where you are. And if we do make it out, I make good on my promise."

He looked down at the table, shaking his head to himself, the shame evident. Amelia couldn't blame him, but given the magnitude of the threat she had given, she wasn't surprised the man had folded so quick. That was a level of violation and humiliation no one could endure.

'Except Slaanesh worshipers.' She thought disdainfully. She knew she had to honor all the Chaos Gods, but it seemed strange that a God of Excess, vanity and perfection only attracted sexual deviants almost exclusively.

As they made their way out of the basement, to join the rest of the platoon, one of the Commandos spoke up, in a quiet, whispered tone. "Ma'am, if I may, did you really intend for us to...do that?"

"Soldiers will resist torture, even use it to misdirect their captors, but there are certain deep seeded fears even they can't resist," She explained. "I merely used fear rather then pain to incite him to give what he knew."

The Commando noted that didn't exactly answer the question, but decided not to push it. Though Chaos Worshipers, they were not so far gone as to ignore basic common sense. That being, in this sort of galaxy, don't question a superior with a willingness to feed enemies their...body parts. Right now, the most important part was finding the Void Generator, and taking it out, so the assault proper could begin.

\\\\\\\\\\\\

Guilliman stood with his "war council" so to speak, the gathering of the Planetary governor of Tvola, Saba Izialla, Kenneth Barthul, the local Commissar attached to the PDF, an old and grizzled fighter with two cybernetic eyes, numerous scars and burn marks, and a heavy, wheezy breath, as well as the Colonels of the various regiments, answering to General Garvis, a large and wide man, powerfully built, pale-skinned and bald, with the Aquila tattooed upon his forehead. The rest were all manner of Space Marine Captains, administrative attaches, Priests and the rest, gathered in the corridor leading to the wider palace the Governor resided in.

"Anyway, our ammo depot in the Western quadrant, sub-sector B-786.95 was abandoned." Barthul explained in his harsh, almost hiss of a voice. "There are blood stains, so I believe this was an act of sabotage and murder, not desertion."

Guilliman nodded, tapping an armored finger on a nearby table. "Likely culprits?"

"The Heretic Astartes within the city have been active, but have been strangely difficult to catch." Marshall Holden explained. "I have, along with Captain Tachibana, designated Scout and Neophyte squads to hunting them down."

"These might be Alpha Legion, should I join the hunt for them?" Cato asked, eager as ever to impress the Primarch.

Guilliman lifted a hand, stopping him, as he slowly shook his head. "The important part is guarding the Void Shield Generator."

He turned to the one of the Tech-Priests. "As I understand, a Skitarii unit is there?"

"Yes, a squadron of Vanguards, ordered by Magos DeBarrik." The Priest replied, and was ready to give further details on the strength and composition of the Skitarii Cohort and its members, before Guilliman moved on.

"The issue comes with not knowing where the Alpha Legion are at this point," Guilliman stated, stroking his chin. "Moving any troops without an idea of our foes' movements could leave things undefended, and be at their discretion."

"Deceitful bastards." Holden grumbled, shaking his head in disgust. A frothing at the mouth maniac he may have been, but Holden preferred enemies like Genobaude, especially among enemy Astartes.

"I've had my fair share of encounters with the Alpha Legion, the true goal may..." Tachibana of the Emperor's Shadows began, before an explosion sounded in the distance.

Every officer and Marine stiffened at the sound, as Guilliman turned in direction of the noise, smoke rising from somewhere in the city, visible from one of the gilded windows in the hallway. General Garvis immediately clicked his microbead on.

"Report, what was hit? Did the enemy pierce our shields?"

"Negative sir!" An Officer reported, the sounds of Las and bolter fire sounding in the distance. "We have enemy contact, Heretic Astartes, sir! Attacking Basilisk Companies in the Eastern Section of Jovor!"

More explosions sounded, like booming drums echoing through the city. Guilliman knew the move in an instant, his mind not lost on the strategy. With the shields up, an artillery duel between them would useless for the Chaos Forces. Who better to handle that, then Alpha Legion? Destroy the basilisks, misdirect their attention, and make for the Void Shields. Guilliman would've been impressed that they still had the ability to make basic tactical decisions, and the Warp hadn't completely turned their brains to liquid soup.

"Deploy Assault Squads and other Fast Attack forces to intercept, and shore up the defenses on remaining Basilisk, Manticore and other artillery pieces," Guilliman ordered quickly. "Have Skitarii Rangers and Scouts patrol these areas around said artillery to pick-off advancing enemy strike teams."

Across Jovor, the Marines and Strike Teams of the Larna Shadowband hit their foes, Imperial Guard patrols finding themselves hit with Heavy Bolter and Grav Gun rounds and attacks, while sentinels were vaporized and smashed apart by rocket fire. And yet, with all their weapons and armor, every time the Imperial Guard returned fire, they only got a few shots off, before their foes disappeared into the shadows.

Not just the artillery was struck, Guilliman moving quickly to have his various Marines patrol and hunt the streets for any of the Shadowband Alpha Legion warriors. It seemed the Larna Astartes had learned to move quick, their strike teams appearing, then vanishing from sight. Again and again this played out, even as Marines of the Ultramarines and Black Templars entered the fray, their squads striking back at the Heretics, quick and strong enough to take down a few, before being dispersed with a grenade or cloaking technology.

Genesis Chapter Chainswords and Power Swords in the hands of the Emperor's Shadows, striking and slashing at the Larna Marines. They answered with point-blank Bolter shots and Power Swords of their own, throwing every trick and deception to counter their foes, and dodge and weave through their attacks and strikes.

Guilliman directed their every strike and move, and was about to move out, when a Genesis Librarian stepped forward, before stopping and freezing in place. He staggered for a moment, as the Primarch and Cato looked to him in surprise.

"Is something wrong, Librarian?" The Primarch asked, weary if something else the Chaos Marines had planned was coming to fruition.

The Librarian focused for a moment, as if not hearing the words, swallowing slightly, as he gripped his Force Sword tightly. He looked up, and shook his head. "Apologies, I thought I detected something in the Warp. I can't find it anymore. I was mistaken."

Guilliman did not believe that for a moment, knowing full well any disturbance or tremor in the Warp could herald anything, and it was usually something negative. The Primarch gripped the Emperor's Sword tightly, as he focused on the Librarian.

"Where did the disturbance originate from?"

The Librarian seemed taken aback by the question, feeling it not useful. "The oceans. To the east. Something came from the Warp."

Guilliman considered what that could mean, before hitting his ear piece. "General Garvis, send a tank Squadron. To the Eastern Port."

"What is in the East?" The General asked.

"Nothing good. Just tell them to be on stand-by for anything that might threaten the war plan." Guilliman commanded.

"Understood sir." Garvis replied. He had moved to take command of the forces once more, and while he hadn't had a Psyker nearby to give such a warning, was smart enough to follow the orders of a Primarch.

If Guilliman, a man who had spent 10 or more Millennia fighting wars, told Garvis something should be moved into a certain position, it was within his interests, and that of the Imperium, to see it done. A Squadron of Leman Russes, given Battle Canons, Plasma Annihilators and Lascanons, could pretty much ruin anything that crawled out of the oceans.

Outside of the shield, as Chaos continued to wail upon the Void Energy sheathed around it, Lakaeros and Teridax both turned in an instant. Other Sorcerers reacted as well, the Chaos Sorcerer Astartes stiffening and looking surprised for a moment, while the Corrupted Witches and Renegade Psykers screamed and clawed at their heads in pain. Teridax felt his mouth go dry, blinking a few times, as thick, black droplets began to fall from the skies, the clouds going dark, the sun covered up by the sudden storm.

"This is the same energy and Psychic immensity as before," Lakaeros stated, leaning against his staff for a moment, as he looked to his Lord. "That thing is drawing close again."

Vffarith'Fyrm chuckled, as he looked at the Sorcerer Lord with some amusement. "My, so much for your planning. Couldn't break the shield, and now both the Imperium, and Godzilla, will take you apart piece by piece."

"Silence, Daemon! There is still time," He insisted, before turning to him in anger. "If the plan is important, deploy the Titans now! They could break the shield right now."

"Vashtorr goes about this plan, 'fashioned at my whim and pace', as he put it," Vffarith'Fyrm explained. "You wish to have the Titans, earn them!"

Every tone from the Daemon was a mocking one. Every explanation felt like a taunt. Teridax hated dealing with the creature. He'd prefer the typical Tzeentch Daemons' habit of speaking in parable or riddle then this. At least they only come across about as half as smug. He walked away, before taping his Microbead again, almost piercing it with one of his Power Claws.

"Amelia, are you in or what?" He demanded.

"We are in the third level, heading for it, why?"

"Because your Lord commands!" He snarled. "Our time is running out. Destroy the generator, and do it quick!"

"So you are asking so nicely." Amelia responded dryly, shaking her head as she shut off the Microbead.

Teridax's nostrils flared as he stomped about, fuming in anger at this. This was supposed to be a moment of glorious triumph, and instead he was being side-lined by incompetent minions. Gangrothus marched along with four of his Plague Champions, their rotted, crusted and milk-white eyes looked to the city, to see plumes of smoke and explosions tearing through.

"It seems Sheshanaga is making himself busy." Gangrothus remarked, looking to the city for a moment, before turning to Teridax. "My Sorcerers complained of headaches and something massive coming form the Warp. Do you know what that is?"

"How do you assume it is I that knows?" Teridax stated, clicking his Power Claws against each other.

"You have been...rather stand offish...secretive in my view," The Plague Lord remarked, tapping the bottom of the Power Scythe into the ground, the air sizzling against the blade. "Whatever secrets you have, share it. So we can be ready for the threat to come."

Teridax glanced to Vffarith'fyrm, who merely shrugged with all his arms. "We never made a rule to be secretive, Sorcerer. You just wanted to hoard all your little secrets in your ego."

Gangrothus made a grunting grumble, pointing to the Sorcerer Lord. "Speak, now."

Teridax hesitated for a moment, eyeing the rival Lord for a moment, unsure of what to say, before clearing his throat. "The Chaos Gods gathered us here not to fight loyalists and Corpse-worshipers. There is a large creature they are after. They have prepared 4 Titan Maniples to hunt it down."

"Four Titan forces? For a large animal? What is this thing?" Gangrothus asked, looking more unbelieving then anything else. The other Champions near him look to each other in disbelief, with one looking more amused at the idea.

"Some radioactive abomination the Emperor forced off of Earth." Teridax stated, clenching his Power Claws before him. "We must gather the power of the Dark Gods here, and kill it."

Gangrothus shook his head slowly, not able to believe what he was hearing. This seemed like a fairy tale, like the ancient tales of Dragons and other monsters from Terra's ancient past, that were revived or reworked in the modern Imperium and beyond to explain things they could not understand, or to give names to Xenos and animals they had trouble fighting.

"I don't know what that thing is, but it will be slain by the end of the day." Gangrothus replied, turning and walking away with a shake of his head.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Amelia and the Sergeant's Hellgun weapons fired again, multiple red-hot beams striking and searing into the armor of one of the Vanguards, as he aimed, and in an instant, locked on and fired his Radium Carbine. The two dove for cover in the red-rusted fences and walls around the lower levels. Steam hissed from machines, around, as one of the Commandos threw a grenade, and exploding, completely leaving only scattered, burnt meat and shattered metal. Another Commando fired at the one of the Vanguard, before one with the Plasma Caliver, blue bolts of plasma tearing through the Carapace Armor and melting flesh and bone.

The hum of the Void generator sounded over all of it, the four pillars sparking and fizzling with energy, while the gears at their base turned slowly, rhythmically. Even as they fired off round after round at each other, nothing could over come the sounds of the Void Generator. Hellgun and Meltagun blasts hit and struck Skitarii and parts of the Void Shield Generator. The surface of the machinery were scorched and damaged, but it seemed the machine was hardly effected by the strikes. Radium and Plasma rounds fired off at lightning speed, leaving melted flesh and irradiated, half-fried bodies in their wake.

The Skitarii kept up their relentless fire, every attack aimed and calculated for maximum damage, heedless of the danger and damage to their own cybernetic frames. Even limbs were blown off, their chest cavities caved in and melted through, the Skitarii kept firing, not caring in the slightest if they were struck down or any injuries acquired. All that mattered was the Omnissiah's will, and they were the instruments of the Deus Mechanicus and his desires upon the world.

Amelia broke from cover, firing both Hellfire Pistols at one of the Skitarii, multiple, heavy beams of laser energy slamming into his armored body again and again and again, the Vanguard ignoring everything, and firing another round of Radium rounds at her. Amelia dove behind more heavy, lead-lined loading crates, the bulkheads and loading boxes buckling and groaning form the fusillade, as the fire fight continued around her. Another grenade flew out, exploding and throwing the Skitarii into the air and their parts around, as the last few fired off at Amelia, the Sergeant and a few other Commandos, while other members of the squad fired off more rounds at them, and as the Skitarii turned to the other members of the squad, Amelia, the Sergeant and two other Commandos broke from cover and fired off again, shredding one Skitarii with concentrated fire, another's faceplate and armor melting from the heat. A Melta beam struck another, melting through its arm and chest, and causing it to fall to the ground.

The last of the Skitarii, the Oversee of the squad, had fallen, its legs melted and shot off below the knee, its right arm and the Taser Goad within blown off, its Radium Pistol jammed somehow, unable to fire even as the Skitarius continued to try to fire. The Commandos gathered back together, gathering the ammo, supplies and equipment from their fallen comrades.

"Half the squad is done, Magus Amelia." The Sergeant reported, looking over the bloody battlefield tiredly. "And with all the Radium rounds, I'm pretty sure all of us are more radioactive then the big beast that lumbered outta Tharnis Prime's oceans."

"Such vulgarity to oppose the Omnissiah's will." The Overseer declared, his disdain evident even in his monotone, unfeeling voice. "Does lashing out in your hysterical, emotional state make you feel better for disrupting the Machine God's work?"

"Just like you, tin head, we were slaves and puppets of the False Emperor," The Sergeant said with disdain. "Unlike you, we're smart enough to cut the strings."

"Cutting yourselves from the Omnissiah's will only invites destruction," He responded in a cold tone, slowly shaking his head, the glowing eye flickering. "You are still slaves, but now to those not driven by a love for the quest of knowledge and humanity's betterment. With whatever emotions I have left, I draw on them to pity you as much as hate you."

Amelia gestured to the other Commandos, who quickly made their way to the Void Generator, and, after carefully climbing over the bodies and machinery of the Generator, began to fix explosive charges to its surface.

"We don't need your pity. We will have victory." She declared, holstering both Hell-Pistols to her side. "And we enjoy your hatred. It is rooted in jealousy for those that embrace the future and freedom the Warp Gods bring."

A metallic hum was heard from the Skitarius, as he spoke in reply. "Such Gods you worship, in primitive superstition, require you sacrifice each other for power. You reject humanity's social engineering under the Deus Mechanicus, that requires us all to work as one as one machine, to fulfill short term desires."

"Your 'One Machine' ideal lead my world to be enslaved by a Duke who only wanted to enrich himself and the rest of the inbred bastards who ruled us," She snarled. "Thousands of others endure the same fate."

"Do you feel free, now?" The Overseer asked simply.

Amelia's lip curled in disgust, as she took out one of her pistols and marched over to the Skitarius. "Do you?"

"Avoiding the inquiry..." He began, before she fired a shot through his head.

The Commandos worked quickly, running the wires across the generator, setting the charges, ensuring the radio detention was active and engage, and all lights were in the green, before one of them signaled to Amelia. "Ma'am, charge is set."

She signaled for them all to get clear, the squad grouping back together, and making their way up through the metallic floors, scaffolding and stairways to get to a higher vantage point. Once the generator went up in smoke, it could most of the floor down with it. This wasn't supposed to be a suicide mission, despite what Teridax believed of those like her and the rest of their Cult. Once they were at a high point, Amelia took out the control device, and hit the button.

"Make my day." She muttered.

A second later, one of the charges blew, then another, followed in quick succession. The Death Brigade Commandos ran up, as faster as their ammo and equipment would allow, the explosions shaking the foundations of the sub level, and threatening to deafen all of them as they raced upwards. The explosion of fire and void energies tore through the immediate area, leaving none of the dead Skitarii and Commandos, or the pieces left of them, in tact. The entire floor around it began to collapse, as the energy released swallowed up everything in a destruction maelstrom.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

As the Imperial Forces were skirmishing with the Larna Shadowband across the city, the explosion of the Void Shield Generator shook the entire city. Everyone looked around, confused and shocked, before the shield collapsed in on itself and vanished in a flash. Cato Sicarius stumbled back in shock from the explosion tearing through the lower levels of city, as he turned to Guilliman.

"The Skitarii were only facing some Lost and the Damned! How did they take out the shield by themselves, without Chaos Marines?" He demanded in shock, before shaking it off. "Next move sir?"

Guilliman hit his ear piece. "Get back-up generators operational at once! We can't afford...!"

Suddenly, across the city, numerous Warp portals opened, as the black rain fell on every soldier. Plaguebearers lumbered out, rusted Plague Swords clutched firmly in their rotted, grimy hands, while Bloodletters charged out, roaring their demands for blood. Lords of Change flew out, bombarding whole city blocks in Warp Fire, as Marine and Guardsmen jumped into action, fighting off the horrors before them. 5 Bloodthirsters burst from the Warp, Axes, whips, massive swords and fists ready as they charged Guilliman, Cato and the Ultramarine Honor Guard without hesitation, the Primarch and his Warrior-Sons reacting immediately, a whirl of blades and violence surrounding the area.

As he fired off Heavy Bolter rounds and struck with the Emperor's very own Blade, Guilliman was already planning ahead for the battle to come, but one thing did nag at the back of his mind. Where had this black rain come from?

'This is usually Nuclear fallout, and yet thermonuclear weapons haven't been deployed,' He thought, parrying a Bloodthirster's attack without effort, and impaling him through the neck. 'Perhaps it is merely Warp trickery.'

The frontlines collapsed into chaos, as the troops in the trenches faced assault by Horrors and further Bloodletters, the Chaos Forces outside surging forward and closing the gap. Genobaude lead his troops, a bloody, fang-filled smile all along, as Guardmen and PDF tried in vein to hold him back, the few not under attack, snapping off Lasgun and Auto rounds at him. He and his warriors closed the gap, quickly joining in the slaughter, the brackish mud now soaked with the intestines and gore of the dead and dying on both sides, Genobaude laughing all along as he swung and struck.

"Let us not stop! Khorne's favor awaits!"

As the last Bloodthirster was given a True Death by the Primarch, he attempted to regain control. "Has Chaos reached out defenses?"

"Sir, the Trenches are getting slaughtered!" General Garvis reported quickly.

"Order a retreat, and take up secondary defensive positions, I will move all Astartes that I can to back them up!"

"Already on it!" Garvis reported.

Good. He had taken the initiative. Guilliman just hoped there were enough to preserve a fighting force in the city. As he and the Ultramarines marched through the city, a massive Warp portal opened, several yards away, several city blocks down. Several Rogal Dorn tanks were in positions, when the ground shook. To his shock and horror, a massive, brass-laden foot, metallic and gore-covered, slammed into the ground in front of the tanks. Steps shock the earth, building crumbling and shattering from the sheer force along, as the first Warmonger-class Titan stepped out of the Warp, and into the city. Its body was crimson, like spilled blood, with the inner machinery, joints and edges of its arm bronze-brass. One hand was dominated by a Gatling Blaster, while the other bore a mighty Hellstorm Canon. Its face was a snarling, hateful Daemonic glare, dim red eyes glowing within the metallic sockets, while its top was dominated by many smaller weapon slots. The top structure was a profane temple of some sort, the central structure dominated by the Rune of Khorne facing forward, with the smaller structures sporting the eight pointed star mounted on the top. Near the central structure's temple 'door', were two large, obsidian black statues of Bloodthristers, as if guardian the entrance, permanently snarling down at those below the great machine. All around the top, were skulls piled high.

The Rogal Dorn Tanks fired, shells and Lascanons helplessly pounding the Void shields of the Titan, as it lumbered forward, every booming, powerful step shaking the very foundations of the city, as other Titans followed in beside the fell beast. 3 Ravager Titans, the same red color as their leader, marched forward, keeping up a slightly faster pace. All three bore Power Claws in one hand, and a missile launcher on the top of each's carapace. One had a Laser Canon, while the other two, a Gatling Blaster. Following them were 4 Feral Scout Titans.

Guilliman watched in shock, as the Ravagers and Ferals unleashed their weaponry, plasma, melta and numerous weapons unleashed and making short work of the Guard Tank Squadron. He turned to Cato, and pointed a Power Fist's finger at him.

"Warn every Imperial commander and Chapter of this..." He began, before Garvis' voice called over the Vox.

"Sir! Chaos Maniples have appeared in the Northern section of city. I am deploying a Baneblade and as many Tanks as I can to slow it down!"

"This is Marshall Holden, we have Chaos Titans pushing in from the West! Any lines remaining are overrun!" He shouted, before grunting, the sound of sword hitting through Power Armor and flesh resounding. "I am leading my Templars in an ordered retreat, we will cover any remaining Guardsmen retreat as best we can."

"Primarch, sir, this is Captain Tachibana, we have Chaos Titans of Nurgle in the South-East of the city, advancing without difficulty."

Guilliman yelled over the Vox channels, practically deafening the mortal officers and soldiers. "Everyone retreat to final redoubt at once! What type of Titans do we have?"

"Corrupted Imperator and 4 Reavers." Holden reported.

"Imperator and 2 Reavers, 6 Ferals." Garvis stated.

"Imperator and 3 Reavers." Tachibana stated.

Cato drew up in surprise, as the Chaos Titans began to lay waste to the city, weapons firing, as the Ultramarines began to pull back and retreat. "4 Corrupted Imperators?! What possessed the Chaos wretches to send their most valuable assault units here of all places?"

"Most likely answer is me. Taking me out would decapitate Imperial leadership and my efforts to rebuild the Emperor's Imperium," Guilliman said gruffly, shaking his head, as he looked back at the Imperator, whose own artificial, unfeeling eyes seemed to glare back at him. "But even for my tactical, political and symbolic importance, this is overkill."

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The Imperial Forces had made it to the last defensive position, a series of bunkers, automated Guard and Marine turrets, and lined with Basilisks, Manticores, and 10 Deathstrike launchers. It was the most densely defended, occupied military zone in the City of Jovor, and was chosen by Guilliman the moment he arrived to act as a final area of defense. He had never expected to actually use it. He thought the Chaos Forces had been such that only a large assortment of basic Imperial ground troops from the various Adepta and armed forces would be needed.

"Arch-Magos Kyornstein, can we deploy Titan maniples from the Arc Mechanicus vessels?" Guilliman inquired through the vox.

"I apologize father, but we are under renewed Chaos Assault here as well," Ventris reported, sounding like he was breathing hard. "They have our fleet wrapped up and pressured on every front."

Guilliman furrowed his brow, before speaking. "Did they board?"

"Tried to sir, my lord. I'm actually thankful. I was worried this might get boring." Uriel replied, before growing serious again. "I will return to my duties."

"Right." Guilliman responded, before turning to the others. "We might need help and reinforcements."

"If it is the fleet, I have no doubt of the 4th Company's Captain," Cato responded. "Ventris is a capable leader and warrior, even if his methods are not to my taste."

Guilliman was surprised by Cato's words of respect, given the bit of rivalry between the two. But more important things were needed to be focused on. The armies of Titans were lumbering through the city, every step, no matter how far away, shook the entire city at its foundations, whole city blocks on fire from the various Volcano Gun shots, Melta canons and Plasma blasts. Jovor would soon be a ruin, but that was the least of their issues. There was nothing in their arsenal that could counter one Imperator-class Titan, much less four.

The Black rain continued, pounding the area, thick and gooey, as Holden looked around the thick, viscous droplets.

"This is nuclear fallout. Garvis, did you deploy any nuclear weapons?" The Marshall asked.

"No." Garvis said grimly, looking around at the rain.

"This is just Warp Phenomenon." Guilliman stated, getting control over the united Imperial forces. "Focus on the enemy. We must find a way to destroy those Titans."

Even from here, Roboute could see the masses of Titans rampaging through the city, laying waste to everything. He had heard stories from Vulkan, Dorn and others at Terra, and seen the Pic-captures and recordings of the Traitor Titan Legions deployed during the siege. This level of deployment almost came close to the stories and recordings he had seen. All of this made no sense to him. His mind couldn't rationalize it. He had poured over the records of Tvola dating back to its settlement in the 39th Millennium. Mechanicus Archaeologists, Xenologists, Missionaries and Inquisitors had found nothing. Other then a brief Anarchist revolt that brought about Democratic reform, nothing of note had happened on the Agricultural/Industrial world.

As he watched, he could see the crimson Titans aligned with Khorne approaching him, their fiery eyes, like the pits of a volcano, focused utterly on him. Through the Warp, he could feel their intense rage, their wrath, soaking through the very air, almost raining down on him along with the black rains that pounded the city, and everything around it for miles and miles. Yet, the Daemon within was letting out something else. An emotion he did not expect.

Apprehension.

Guilliman knew himself well enough to know he could slay a Feral or Warhound Titan with some work, and if he pushed himself, could destroy one of the Ravager/Reaver Titans, but he was no Russ or Angron. An Imperator was far beyond his skills. He kept his gaze locked on the beast of metal and warp-taint, wondering what was driving it to act like this, why it and the other Titans had been drawn here.

As the Imperator approached, one of the other Titan 'Pilots', what was left of the mutilated husk inside the Nurgle-aligned warmachine, spoke.

"Titan Durvasa, we need to stay together, the Great Beast is our main target, not the Primarch."

"Speak for yourself Mallon," The Pilot of Durvasa declared with a dark chuckle. "I claim the Primarch and the beast Godzilla's skull, twice the glory."

"Or twice the Pride, double the fall." The pilot of the Tzeentch Titan responded over the Warp and Vox communications. "Do not pursue on your own. We hunt as a pack, or be picked off."

"Save your weak prattle for another." Durvasa's pilot declared, sneering at their weakness. "With the way you two whinge and weep, I might not be the only women pilot here."

"Short-sighted cur." The second pilot grumbled, before ignoring her. If she wished to get her Maniple destroyed, let her.

Whatever was left of the human intellect of Durvasa's pilot, had long ago eroded, now mostly merged with the corrupted Machine Spirit and Bloodthirster that made the massive Titan its home and host body. It was reflected in what remained of her body. Her stomach had been torn open, intestines hung out, wires from the Titan's inner workings, hocked into her guts, or burrowed deep into her body. Two horns had sprouted from the flesh and bone of her eyebrows and flared backwards, her eyes wide and red like blood, never blinking. Whatever was left of her legs had merged with the control throne that directed Durvasa's controls and powerful limbs and weapons.

In the 31st Millennium, she had been known as Sibyl Kaanast, but so much time had passed in the Warp and in worship of Khorne, all that remained was the merged identity of Durvasa the Imperator Titan of the Blood God.

Every lumbering step sent tremors through the city, the accompanying Titans of her strike force smashing through multiple high rises and habitation blocks on the way forward. None voiced their objection to her path forward. It was, after all, sound logic for a Khorne worshiper. Many valuable skulls awaited them, why simply limit themselves to one target, when so many skulls and so much blood waited to be taken?

Guilliman knew the odds were long against even one force, but he was a Primarch. Taught the art of war by Konor Guilliman and schooled in it for thousands of centuries. He turned to Garvis. "Order every Guardsmen, every tank and artillery piece, to fire on the Titans."

Garvis doubted they had the punch to do anything, but the Guard were meant to hold the line, and Astartes were beyond even that. In the words of a general Garvis had studied for years in Kaurava's academies, they died standing. Artillery fired off, basilisk shells and Manticore missiles striking the Void shield bubbles around the Titans, exploding and blooming around them, but unable to do any damage, as Sororitas Exorcist tanks moved into position. Tanks of the Imperial Guard and Astartes moved through the streets, taking every inch of space they could, spread before the final redoubt, and ready to unleash their weaponry on the Titans.

The boom of Battle and Vanquisher canons, the roar of Lascanon and Plasma canons, striking against the shields, every strike splintering and bouncing harmlessly against the Void Shields. Land Raiders of the four Chapters moved in, every weapon primed and firing, as Sororitas Exorcists played their arrangement, the sound of organ music audible over the battlefield, as missile salvos fired off from the pipe organs, struck into the void shields.

The audio systems of the Imperator spoke, roaring over the battlefield like the voice of an angered God, booming in the ears of every Astartes squad and Imperial Guard platoon, as it lumbered closer, smashing through the tallest buildings of the city to get to them.

"Hear me well, corpse-emperor's bootlicks, I am Durvasa, Titan of Khorne and living monument to all that bleeds before Him!" The Titan's pilot roared, her voice reverberating with Daemonic whispers and growls of the Bloodthirster contained within her and the Titan. "Know this, as I slay all of you in dedication to Karneth, that you are not even our primary target, even your glorious Primarch, the so-called Avenging Son, is merely a secondary piece for me. All your deaths, are merely...appetizers, for the real soul Khorne wants!"

Guilliman's eyes widened, looking to the other Imperial leaders. "What could she mean? How could they not want me as their target? What else is here that would be more important then a Primarch, on a tactical level?"

Holden shook his head. "We've poured over the records of this world time and again. There is nothing. Tvola is just a backwater like millions of others in the Imperium."

Their talk was interrupted by the deafening roar of the Volcano gun firing, and striking the Black Templar's lead Land Raider, the tank firing everything it could for a split second, before exploding into a ball of hellfire and molten metal. The Titan swept the Volcano gun through the other tanks, destroying them all in seconds, as the other, smaller Titans joined in, missiles and plasma annihilating everything in their path. Smoke rose and sizzled from the rain, as Guilliman watched, raising his sword and tightening his grip, as the Imperator drew closer and closer, every step slow, ponderous, smoke and heat rising from the barrels of its many weapons, the soft laughter of the pilot within echoing, as tank squadron after tank squadron was utterly destroyed.

As Titan Durvasa lumbered closer, defensive turrets and other defenses, heavy bolter rounds and rockets firing off as well, striking against the Shield. The pilot laughed, waiting for the Volcano Gun to cool, and the Gatling Blaster to reload. Secondary weapons fired off from the towers and other parts. The Imperator pointed its Volcano Gun at Roboute, even miles away, targeting systems and the corrupted Machine Spirit helping align the gun. Guilliman regripped his sword, giving it a twirl, glaring down the gigantic war machine. No one noticed, as the machine lumbered forward with its compliment of Titans, a massive lumbering form coming into the city as well.

As the Titan prepared to fire, a flash of blue drew the attention of the Primarch and the gathered Marines and Guardsmen, turning in the direction, just in time for a bright, near-blinding blast of thermonuclear energy to surge forth out of no where, and striking the Great God-Machine in the side, the beam burning against the shield, the Titan's head turning slightly in shock, before the shield utterly shattered under the combined Imperial assault, and this newcomer, the azure beam hitting the Titan in the side, and knocking it several yards away, slamming into the ground, and sliding away, the Volcano Gun's molten beam going long and striking a nearby complex, utterly vaporizing it.

All eyes turned towards the east of the city, thunder clapping and echoing throughout the city, before lightning struck the massive form of the creature, striking into his body and causing his fins to flash blue each time, as the mists and fog from the storm cleared, and Godzilla appeared, stomping a foot, sending tremors through the city again. The various Titans with Durvasa turned, Ravager and Feral Scout Titans turning and training their weapons on him, inhuman growls and curses issuing forth from the Warp-tainted machines. The Imperial all stopped their fire, every Battle-Brother, Sister, Skitarii and Guardsmen all turning in shock, as the creature took another lumbering step.

Even Guilliman could not help but have his jaw drop at the sight of the thing.

Godzilla stood in the middle of the flaming ruins of Jovor, tall and proud, and roared, a booming, echoing challenge to the Titans before him, and, at the same time, and act of defiance towards their masters.

Durvasa Titan rose, slowly and carefully, the mighty machine righting itself and slowly coming back to standing. The pilot cursed and roared her own rage at the beast from within the Titan cockpit. The three minds within the Titan all focused now, training every weapon they could on the beast, as it lumbered towards them, smashing past buildings and depots, crashing and crushing through them as if they weren't there.

"Father, what is that thing?" Cato asked, his voice, for once in a very long time, subdued and quiet, almost like when he had come out of the Warp.

"I have never seen such a beast in all my years," Roboute replied in shocked, slightly shaking his head. "Not once."

No one dared even breath, as Godzilla lumbered closer and closer, the other Titans firing upon him with a hail of Plasma and rocket attacks, the creature ignoring every single hit to keep moving forward. Guilliman had seen many things in his life, fought many creatures, faced many horrors. He had prepared, in this battle, and every other, for every possibility that could arise, and ways to counter it. And yet, the appearance of this gigantic beast, and left him utterly speechless and too stunned to speak for a moment. As it drew closer, he could even see that it dwarfed the Imperator in height.

Somehow, something this large, this heavy and powerful, was moving through the city.

"Lord Primarch, have you any orders?" Holden asked, cutting through his stunned silence, looking just as shocked as he was.

Roboute snapped to in an instant, nodding to the gather Imperial forces. "Spread out through the city, and maintain fire on Titan targets."

"And...that thing?" Cato inquired.

Roboute watched as it roared again, fins flashing and glowing, preparing another beam, before speaking. "Stay out of its way and observe it."

The final battle for Jovor, was about to begin.

Notes

This was a fun one to set up. I decided to make Godzilla's entrance into the 42nd Millennium well and proper something grand. A battle against 4 Imperators and their accompanying Titan support, while witnessed by Guilliman himself, would do nicely.

Some of the stuff is again fan made, and draws on history. The Minthay Select Guard are based on Ming Dynasty Troopers that fought off the Yuan, defeated the Samurai with Joseon help during the Imijin War, and faced defeat against the Qing. Kaurava, in this Fic-Verse, actually survived and won under Vance Stubbs, because DoW3 is not "Fucking canon!". Chaos Warbands were pretty standard, with the Larna Shadowband getting their name from Larnaen Hydra, but that was it.

The one thing I will complain about is Imperators being 55 meters in height. I scoured the internet, because GeeDubs is annoyingly inconsistent, with some being 405 meters, some 60, but the most common was 55. For a series so over the top, to play heights so conservatively is annoying, especially for my work like this. I don't plan on Godzilla just mogging everyone with his superior height, but I'd like similar heights for the two sides.

I originally intended to have Godzilla's appearance be like that in the 1991 Ghidorah film, where the Chaos forces are gloating over their Titan's rampage, and a Heretek Tech-Priest comes up with sensor equipment, pointing out a big radiation/temperature spike in the ocean, complete with "My gods, what is that?!", before settling on a little call back to King of the Monsters and Terror of Mechagodzilla.

I've also decided to space out the time between this chapter and the next, so I can focus a bit and make the battle really come into its own.