Chapter 9.6 – Salvation's March
Nassir Amit dragged Tarik Torgaddon free of the explosion radius. The missile speared into the ground, detonating with a cloud of wraith bone rubble. The Astartes pair scrambled to their feet, falling back towards the last defensive line of Imperial Fists and Death Guard. A cluster of World Eaters also appeared to be trying to withdraw as well, the Raven Guard and Thousand Sons eviscerating the remaining sons of Angron.
"Squad Tylaeus. Covering fire at thirty degrees. I'm going to try and pull some dogs out of the fire," yelled Amit as Tarik limped alone back to the lines.
A hail of bolter, plasma and lascannon fire blasted in front of Amit as he raged forward.
"FOR THE EMPEROR!" roared the Flesh Tearer as he proved the validity of his name.
A Thousand Son's warrior raised his hand to blast Amit with psychic fire, just as an axe sliced through the warrior's wrist. The warrior staggered back as 2 more axe blows tore through his chest plate.
"Towards the lines!" bellowed Captain Kharn as the last of the World Eaters did their best to make a tactical withdrawal. With the Butcher's Nails biting only about half obeyed the command. The rest unknowingly made their sacrifice for the rest of their comrades.
Kharn and Amit fell back together along with the rest of the World Eaters, blasting foes with their bolt pistols or carving down a Raven Guard that got over ambitious.
Behind the lines once more, Tarik clapped Nassir Amit on the back.
"I think that makes us even now," huffed Torgaddon as the near by Imperial Fist Apothecary patched up his wounded leg.
"Not even close," smirked Amit, "You still owe me two more."
"Well I appreciate your timely intervention, Flesh Tearer," commented Captain Kharn, "At least I have enough bodies to make a last stand look slightly heroic. It seems a little sad if you don't have the numbers to look glorious."
"Do the World Eaters have a concept such as glory?" chuckled Tarik.
"Do the Lunar Wolves?" retorted Kharn with a grin.
"Good to see you alive," Ullis Temeter said, approaching the group of survivors, "The majority of the enemy are pulling back for another assault, Raven Guard not withstanding. This is likely going to be our last combat though."
"Highest surviving ranking office I presume? How many of us are left standing?" asked Kharn, wiping the joints of his axe clean.
"We have just under two thousand Imperial Fists, three and a half thousand Death Guard, five hundred World Eaters and a handful of Sisters that still remain standing," replied Ullis Temeter, "Approximate numbers of course. Every word I speak we lose more. But we have around six thousand for our last stand, all together."
"Six thousand… of a force of three hundred thousand…" murmured Tarik.
"Yes, but we were up against a force of nearly half a million," replied Kharn, "Not to mention the auxiliaries and those blasted neverborn. The enemy has got to be under a hundred thousand now, perhaps less, and their auxiliaries are broken. The Custodes made short work of much of their command hierarchy as well."
"Speak of, any of the Ten Thousand survive?" asked Amit. Ullis should his head.
"All gone. Not surprising, they weren't going to preserve their own lives in this situation. They just tore through all the enemies they could before they collapsed."
"Much like us…" muttered Kharn.
Ullis tapped his vox as a blurt of information came through.
"Are you sure? Go to ground. Try to remain in cover."
"Good news I take it?" asked Tarik sarcastically.
"We have a Titan incoming," said Ullis, "Reaver class. It's just reached missile range. We need to take cover."
"Too late," snarled Amit.
Beyond the smoke laden haze of battle, a cluster of long thin spears streaked across the sky, getting larger and larger with every moment.
"A pleasure fighting with you gentlemen," muttered Tarik.
"Not really a pleasure, but you were better than the other bastards," growled Amit.
"A bit disappointing really," sighed Kharn, "I was hoping for something more spectacular."
"Well the explosion will be pretty spectacular," Ullis pointed out.
Kharn shrugged.
"You seen one missile barrage, you've seen them all. There is no skill involved."
"I don't think that's going to matter in the long run," said Amit, "I don't suppose there's any chance we can-"
Fire exploded over head.
The missiles detonated their payloads in a magnificent bloom of orange and yellow flame. Concussive forces blasted rubble and debris, shifting and scattering as the shockwave passed over.
Nassir Amit winced as the missiles prematurely detonated some distance above the ground. Looking up, all the Astartes saw a shimmering blue sphere, covering the Loyalist position and enveloping the defenders in a protective shield.
"What the…" muttered Amit.
"I don't believe it," murmur Tarik, grabbing the Flesh Tearer, "Look! Up there!"
Atop the largest pile of rubble, a giant figure in grubby red and gold armour held up his hand to the sky. In his other hand, he held a power sword, which looked like a knife in his over built stature. His voice boomed and echoed around, drawing the Loyalists from their positions to stare at the wonderous event.
"WARRIORS OF THE EMPEROR!" shouted the figure, "IMPERIAL FISTS! DEATH GUARD! WORLD EATERS! SONS LOYAL TO THE EMPEROR! HEED ME! HEAR MY RALLYING CALL!"
"Is that… Angron?!" gasped Tarik.
Kharn fell to his knees. The rest stared on, mouths agape.
"KNOW THAT YOU HAVE FOUGHT VALIANTLY! KNOW THAT YOUR SACRIFICE BOUGHT A VICTORY, A SMALL AS IT MIGHT BE!" called the figure, "KNOW THAT THE EMPEROR LIVES! KNOW THAT I GO TO HIM NOW, TO HELP PRESERVE THE IMPERIUM AND WIN BACK WHAT HAS BEEN LOST! ALL THOSE SONS THAT STILL HAVE HOPE, JOIN ME! JOIN ME ON SALVATION'S MARCH!"
"This… this isn't possible," said Ullis as the figure dropped down the debris to approach the small group of warriors.
"Improbable perhaps," said the figure, smiling as he joined them, "But possible. Besides, what would one more impossible thing matter in the Impossible City?"
"My… Lord?" asked Kharn, still on the ground.
"Arise, Captain Kharn," said the figure, pulling the World Eater to his feet, "You have performed your role far beyond what should have been expected of you. I am not Angron. The one you knew as Angron died here, in this city, a sad end to a cruel sad life along side those who followed him into death."
"Then, who are you?" asked Tarik.
"Call me… Osiris," said Osiris with a smile.
"You are… a psyker?" asked Ullis, looking up at the defensive sphere above them.
"I am an Empath," replied Osiris, "My strength comes from those who I inspire. My sword is the belief others have in me. This shield is my desire to protect those worthy of life."
"I'm glad I made the cut," chuckled Tarik.
"I don't under… stan..." began Kharn in confusion.
"It's alright Kharn," said Osiris softly, "Don't think about it right now. It is a lot to take in. What matters is not what came before. What matters is what we do from here. We must escape the Webway. The longer we stay, the more likely we are to be overwhelmed. My powers are new, and I do not know how far I can push them."
"Where do we go then?" asked Amit, "Terra?"
Osiris shook his head.
"To go to Terra would be a waste of time. Terra now resides within the warp, and the device keeping the gateway open is gone. It would be a dead-end, plagued with neverborn and worse."
"Then where?"
"To Prospero," grinned Osiris, "The enemy never prepared for an assault on their staging area. We shall follow the path Magnus and the Fallen Sons blazed for their ambition and desires. We shall reach Prospero, and from there, we shall steal what vessels we might find and make for the Emperor."
"I think the Thousand Sons might have something to say about that," muttered Amit.
"If it comes to it, I shall have… words. With my brother," replied Osiris, "Send the order around that all who wish to survive are to join me here. I shall lead you all from the darkness back to the light, but the shield I can manifest decreases its strength proportionally to its size. The closer we can gather our forces together the easier it will be for me to protect you."
"And how long does this protection last?" asked Ullis.
"I have no idea," smiled Osiris, "I've never done it before. But I feel I can support it without too much trouble, provided we keep close. How many are you?"
"We estimate six thousand, but that includes a number of Sisters of Silence…" said Ullis.
"Ah, tell the good sisters to remain ahead of us. I could probably support the shield with them inside but I do not want to risk a collapse if my attention is divided. I will rely on you all to keep them safe."
"Can we exit the shield?" asked Amit.
"If I wish it," replied Osiris, "Only those I choose to protect may enter this domain, so do not fear about the enemy getting too close. Like that fellow there, see?"
All heads turned to see the face of the Bloody Raven, seething with rage as it mindlessly clawed the invisible wall before him.
"Oh, brother of mine," sighed Osiris, approaching the wall that protected them from the outside, "One day I will come back for you. But I cannot save you yet. Go now. I fear you will spread much destruction on pain before we meet again, but I must perform a greater duty. Begone, Raven. Fly away."
As if somehow driven by his words, or perhaps due to the futility of the shield, the Bloody Raven turned his back on the warriors. The beast's flock of Raven Guard followed in his wake as they vanished deeper into the Webway.
The Thousand Sons behind them opened up with bright warp flames splashing against the outside of the shield. Osiris winced slightly as the bolts of energy burned away.
"Quickly. Gather the forces. As more force is applied to the shield the harder it will be for me to hold it. I need to shrink it as soon as possible to maintain its strength."
"As you command, my Lord," said Ullis, who began barking orders across the vox.
"I am sorry…" whispered Kharn to Osiris, "The Butcher's Nails… your fight against the Great Angel… I am sorry…"
"You did nothing wrong by Angron, Captain Kharn," murmured Osiris, "You were given a burden you could not carry alone. You did your best, and know I was always grateful for that. Once this is over we will get help for those who survive. We will try to undo the damage of the Butcher's Nails. But I also ask that the Legion no longer preserve it's gene seed. The World Eater's were Angron's Legion. They were a representation of his anger, his pain, and much evil was done in his name. I do not wish that evil to continue."
"You would see us purged?" asked Kharn, mournfully.
"Not purged. Retired. Let the cruelties brought about by the Red Angel come to an end. You and your brothers will be honoured, you will be respected and heralded as heroes of the Imperium. But when your line ends, by whatever means it does, let it remain dead. You were the greatest son, Kharn. You followed Angron even into death itself. Let the Ghost rest, and let him have his sons when the time comes. It is the least I can do for him."
"As you wish, my Lord," replied Kharm, a somber tone in his life.
"We need to survive first," reminded Osiris, "I wish for you and as many of your brothers to make it out of here alive. My first command to you, is to do everything you can to preserve the life here with us. That includes your own."
"As you command, My Lord," bowed Kharn, "We shall escape here. We shall get you and your wards to Terra. Nothing shall stop us from turning a new page on this bloody chapter of our lives to something better."