Realm Of Eternal War

Let us first define what is pharisaism. It is in essence adherence as could possibly be shown by heretics. A forced endeavour to protect oneself from self suicide in a community where such travesty of heresy usually means death. However noble it would appear, it is a parasite totally apathetic to the plight of any social development insofar as to limit the society from progressively adhering to greater heights. How is this so when they have done only what is required of them to survive?
It is through the sanctimonious nature of their very belief that poses the problem. Through subversive nature and coercive design. Improved upon years of geniune hatred, they have created a way of thinking that seeks to corrupt the impressionables and the gullible. One would be surprised at the extent a hate filled person would go to sully the name of another. Jealousy of perhaps uncategorized nature or perhaps the simplicity of jealousy itself that drives him. Though I may condone the use of hate against enemies. It is the hatred within and among each other of the same community that I abhor. Such things are counter productive and wholly unnecessary to the concept of Empire building.
One could in effect accomplish greater feats through a single and cohesive collective action rather than disparate and divided. The Imperium could never had existed without the single guiding factor that united all of mankind. It is not The Emperor. It is unity itself. It saddens me then that the disparity of mankind that had once been sundered and united is once again shattered. Who is to be blame? It is the practitioner of pharisaism that  has shattered the world. Falsehood and lies are their forte. They wiggled themselves and watched as we squirm and screamed the last clarion call of greatness that had once guided humanity. Nothing can ever be said to be able to withstand the treachery of the enemy within. Unexpectedly they appear. And unwillingly it infects.

It is said that Man began joining ideas and creating new ones to better understand a situation or to push forward his thinking however there is a certain doom that such ways would bring upon the practitioner. They could no longer create new ideas. The generation of it is dead to him in that whatever synthesis that is forthwith presented is not an original but a copy of ideas generated through amalgamation of many different thesis. It does not make certain to the practitioner that such an event has occurred as it has been covered up by visions of grandeur upon having created an original idea. Therefore, morality or the very idea of morality having existed in the first state is an illusion. Morality is not and should be something that is imposed upon oneself. However, contrary to the self-righteous, it does not also stem from the self nor does it come from reasoning and logic. It is merely a creation of the incalculable and incomprehensible chaos. Therein lies true morality. One of the first state. The state of Chaos. To impose order upon Chaos is a futile and pathetic attempt on the part of Humanity. To allow free reign upon the world and naturally order and morality would occur. This is not so. It is the chaos itself that is morality. To separate it from its birth mother is what imposing order is defined to be.
What of amorality. Amorality is not so far removed from chaos however it is merely the baby steps towards ultimate morality. To perform a deed without remorse, guilt nor shame is truly amicable and a delight to see. It shatters the tie between morality and the self. Though others may view the amoral as heartless and cruel. I see a person who has overcame his limitations and defined himself to be beyond understanding. Thus his very actions the epitome of good and bad as defined within the context of his own universe, We are our own chaos. We are not separate from the birth mother no matter the distance Order has carried us away from her. The natural order of things some may claim to be the most proficient example to rebuke such ways but think of this. Even within the natural order, things may occur that is beyond expectations thus a 3rd person view of the world is flawed and ultimately inconsistent with one whom very nature is within the natural order. Therein from his point of view, is it not a chaotic place indeed the natural order of things.

Under the guise of a lone traveler did he came to the village of Trothon. Trothon is not the only human settlement on the planet but it is the biggest and though the gene memory of its people recalls of Ancient Terra, space was something that is foreign to these people. The very idea of other people living among the stars were inconcievable. Entrusted with this very knowledge, the ignorant people living in it has grown far more intolerant to the approaches of weird strangers. hurled with abuses and rocks, the traveler heeded it no more than the beating of water droplets upon his covered coat. Perhaps he had thought the villagers would leave should they grew bored of such an ignoble behaviour. They didn't.

Continuously, sparing any time available to them, they would do discomfort upon the stranger. Any nuances observed upon the wanderer a sign of success. They had done so perhaps to arouse a feeling of anger yet it did not appear. Finally did it occur that impatience brought upon it lethality and forever brought change upon the villages of which none before has ever foreseen. The bravest among us were tasked with killing the stranger. Rylor of the Clan Huro was chosen to be the assassin and thus he was given the holy hammer of Thur, Molnir. Molnir had existed since as far as the elders could remember. It was a magical hammer of such immense power that Thur himself would smirk with euphoria upon hitting his foe with it. Thus it was that Rylor of Clan Huro was given as he was the greatest warrior seen among the many tribes of the planet.

After introducing himself, Rylor charged upon the traveler and a battle broke out and though Rylor was greate the traveler was better. He easily avoided most of the blows and those that managed to connect were taken with such grace that no possible injury could be felt. Seeing the danger to Rylor, Roan of the Clan Thuf came and assisted Rylor. This was then followed by the brave Jokal of Clan Murth. The three would then do battle with the stranger. Roan fell after his second charge when the traveler broke his neck with a hold after deflecting Roan's blow and thus seizing the opportunity for Jokal. Jokal gripped the traveler and bellowed a mighty scream urging Rylor to stike of which he did. The traveler was struck with such a blow that he fell instantly upon his knees and flattened with a pool of blood which formed below. Thus it was told the change began after the deed. His body was left there to rot under the cruel sky.

Upon the night of 2nd Seed, they came from the skies. Iron vessels with brilliant blooms of fire clouded the skies with such unholy light that it blinded all who attempted to see it. Huge vessels of iron came from the skies, seemingly defying the pull of the earth upon its hulls. The ships were painted black and red with various markings of which one thing was made obvious and common among all. A highly stylised letter "I". The villagers were panicking now and wondered what strange beasts would come out from these flying ships of iron. And no sooner had the thought occured, men began appearing. There were many and Kora Fast-eye counted roughly 60 of them. Each with clothing that seemed in stark contrast with the people of these lands. Then, a man with an armour of such proportions it defies thinking appeared and demanded the leader of our tribes to come forth. Chief Myrtho stepped out and demanded a reason for the calling of which the iron man replied,"I am Inquisitor Vorimus of the Ordo Hereticus and  I demand the killer of my companion to reveal himself to me.". After which Rylor screamed," I am the killer of your companion and honorably so he should remain dead for Thur has taken his soul and deemed it unworthy like yours! Begone strangers from our lan...," a loud booming sound interrupted his furor and a huge hole took the place of his head.

"I have deemed this settlement unworthy of compliance and its people to be incompatible with the Imperium. ATTACK!". The sounds of fire and destruction reigned the night. And so it was told of how Trothon was destroyed and its people cleansed of the earth and rightly so for they were heretics who worshipped a pagan god. Remember young adepts of the Ministorum! To smite and purged all whom go against the Imperium and the God-Emperor is a righteous duty thus it must be that this tale impart the essence of intolerance upon you so that hatred against heretics, aliens and mutants remain strong.

Hospitaller Ward Area 255 Hive Aplation 0800 Hours 2200444M41
 The wards are filled to the brim with the indisposed and more awaiting something that even has the semblance of treatment. Soldiers with looks of pain and weariness. The war must be going badly from the looks of it. Even the Hospitaller Guards were absent from their posts. They intent on throwing as much body to the furnace of war I reckon. I wouldn't know much of the war situation other than the sparse news that the vox shows every so often in the events of a crisis or victory. I just hoped to The God-Emperor that the war would end soon because if the situation lingers on, there won't be any bodies left to throw.

Trench Section 16 Outside of Hive Orpyehol 1200 Hours 220444M41
"Fire for Throne's sake!Keep the flank covered!" The commissar screamed as he fired off a round from his las-pistol. The familiar crack and boom of las-rounds being let go filled the air. The traitors kept on coming and the battlefield surges with activity. A lucky round from artillery hit a part of the trench,killing a squad of Guardsmen and collapsed it. Like any Infantry was trained to do, we had to contain it with our bodies as the enemy's focus shifted to the collapsed section. We all knew how desperate the fight would become when it happened. I cursed inwardly at such rotten luck. Bad enough the enemy outnumbered us 4 to 1. Now we had to contend with all of them rushing towards the exposed section.
"Steel yourself lads! Their coming now!" the sergeant bellowed and orders were given to relocate the heavy-bolters. Their opening salvo tore through the enemy ranks with such visceral force that their charged was halted for the briefest of moments. Time that was needed. We opened fire and countless numbers of rounds hit the centre of the charging mass of bodies. The heavy bolters opened on their second barrage of punishing fire tearing limbs, legs and even heads from bodies. We had the advantage as the enemy was funneled into the narrow gap by sheer irrationality of the Traitors' charge. What sound mind that had lead this men before seemed vacant however their sheer number still poses a threat as random retaliatory fire do hit their mark. It was a painful thing to get shot by las fire. The wounds instantly cauterised causing incredible pain but with minimal blood loss. I've seen people surviving for days after getting shot only to succumb to the pain and asked for the Emperor's mercy. With all the crossfire that's going on. I just hoped I wouldn't be hit today. That'd be a bitch to remember the next morning. If i lived that long to see it.

            Once there was a being whose quest and thirst is never fulfilled. He wanders eternally on a barren surface with nothing but his emptiness to call companion. Companionship was sought but then he learned. He learned that he was not alone. Never alone. His emptiness is in itself a loyal companion. It will never leave him. Nor should it. However, a day doth came when nothingness departed and other more wholesome companions arrived. At first he was bewildered. A spectacle of such momentous depth, he encountered his second companion. He relished in the light of this new comrade and his heart yearn ever more to be closer with it. Yet, in his mind he knows that this is merely an illusion. A facade of an empty and shallow person whose main purpose is but to excite with empty promises and shallow indignity.
           This friend he soon left and so forth encountered the next companion. This is a person whose utter presence speaks volume of honesty and brutal slavery. A comrade of arms that always reveals its thoughts. A pure and basic being of such utter contempt that the wanderer yet could bear it no more. Thrice did the wanderer sought escape and thrice he failed. For evermore and the briefest moment he felt this comrades true touch and shuddered at the truth of it. It was a being so blighted and cursed. A construct so utterly inhuman that no human thought would ever call it friend. And yet unable to escape, the wanderer felt even more yet never did he let go of his thoughts of escape. Then, after a long time did pass, he met a new friend whom he called for to escape this hell of fellowship. And doth, he was rescued and so soon after his departure, the companion disappeared.
           A question hearkened, what now? Three companion he found and more he sought. He came then into a being that is unlike the others before. It was insignificant, It was tiny. A small ripple which seems to permeate to the depth of his soul. He could not imagine nothing by it and as time goes by he felt it grow. Some days it grew too fast and others, too slow. Until a time when he could contain it no longer and revealed this companion's urge and doth another protected him. He was free. He felt free. Thus at a time like any other this companion doth saved him. Free from thought he lost himself in glee with the touch of it. He was a king. A charlatan. A god. A mouse and any other forms he did take and took castles from lowly rats. And flew into an abyss of such majesty it bowed to him in reverence of his mercy. However, the wind departed and a new being came and called unto the wanderer. "Come, come I beckon thee. Leave this friend and be with me! Thee know what is good and thee with glee! Hark! Hark! The friend beside may help thee. Come and be with me!
            And was it true ever that a presence he did not notice appeared and told him of a coin and two sides of it. Then the wanderer chose and left his castle in the sky and joined the caller of all-that-must-be-done. At first, he was strangely deafened and blinded by such pomposity of this new person. And as time goes by, the wanderer felt the very same presence which had permeated him long ago as he escaped from nothingness's grasp. The same feeling of rapture yet of a lie so deep. However, this person has more to offer yet seems too perfect. There was nothing but it and it was stifling. The wanderer too sought to escape and wished for nothing more to be what he ought to be and wherever he should be. In his heart he knows there is something that is destined for him. Something greater. Something that should all wanderer be at at the end. And the end of his journey is indeed nigh
             He could feel it. The presence of something that is beyond all others. He felt it once before yet he could not muster the strength to admit of its existence. Too arrogant of him. Too shallow his thoughts. Now he could see clearly. That which liberates all wanderers. He is beyond those companions who held him back. He could see beyond everything. And as he reached the end he lifted his head above himself and proclaimed :
"I am me! That is who I am! I am complete! A being of perfection that is neither a companion to the duality of all but a friend to the singularity that is me! I am me! And I exist! I have sought others to lift me and I have found it to be me! I have left nothingness and not feeling its absence! I am me! And I am above all conventions! I am the absence of Nothingness!

What is a man but flesh and bone. What is it that constitutes a man? What is it that makes man believe himself to be a man. Most people believe man defines man as being flesh and bone with humanity within it. Then why is it that man go so far to defy what little, strenuous, grasp he has on being a man? Why do man defy the very nature that defines him as a man. Is it in human nature to defy human nature? Thus arise the first paradox of human nature.

Humanity is a cancer that invokes norms and values among humans. A parasitic dictator who covets not obedience but wholehearted submission. However, if it means to be truly human to be ruled by such a dictator then I say submit. I know my place amongst the denizens of the Universe. At least a dictator has in his mind the well being of his subjects before he rules them with an iron fist. Obeisance to such a dictator would mean one is human. But then again what does it mean to be human. Humanity is but a self imposed morality and law which binds a man to conformity without will nor effort. A false dictator that rules and spreads among man to justify his being. Thus arose the second paradox, that of man's humanity is but a creation of man without humanity.

A man i once was. A man I no longer am.
Such arrogance could not be construed as words of heresy as I truly am no longer a Man. I am beyond that of a man. Beyond the weak and petty flesh of Man. Though I am still a servant of Man. Fighting His wars. Fighting His battles. I am not a man. As we traveled forth from the deepest depth of our Monasteries. Into the darkest corners of His domain. We ensure His will and His words are spread among the stars as truth beckons itself to be spread. No words of pity nor remorse shall guide our slaughter among the stars. We are not Man. We are beyond Man. We are his champions. His warriors. Petty conventions of righteousness. Morally unacceptable definition of wrong or right. These do not constrain us. We are beyond man. We are beyond the nature of Man. We are Gods among Man.
We cast aside our nature to achieve something better. We are Duty bound. No! Even such things are beneath us. We are above even such things. Duty does not compel us. Duty is a facade. A veneer representation of the divinity of Man. But we are NOT Man! We are Gods among Man. And as such, we are beyond it. What drives us is something more primordial. More ancient than Man. An antediluvian ideal that is well beyond the comprehension of a normal Man. It is not Duty. Not Sacrifice nor is it any of the conventions of Man. It is the concept of loyalty. Not loyalty as presumed by Man. Loyalty is not a simple thing nor is it complex. The idea, the whole raison d'Etre behind our Godhood is loyalty. Loyalty not to Man but to ourselves. Yes!To ourselves. This ascension is meant only for ourselves. And we protect Man only for ourselves. That is loyalty to Gods. Loyalty to our own convictions and beliefs. We do not expect Man to understand for we are beyond His understanding.
The Inquisition is afraid of this and hunts us down like Man. But we are not Man. We are Gods.

4th year of the War of Mython Independence

Gunfire all around the entrenchment.......Men screaming......Explosions.......The howling sounds of the winds assailing a dead fortress walls.......It is the last of many great bastions which once protected the Imperium and its citizens on the planet. Now, as hollow and abandoned as many other great pillars of hope that had once radiated upon the planet. There is nothing therein but emptiness and squalor residence for survivors attempting to escape the fate of invasion. We were, no, we ARE freedom fighters. Tis the fourth year of our struggle against an enemy which came from the deepest and darkest depth of space. Like a great wave it decimated our defence forces. For a year they enslaved and misused us like cattle for the slaughter or slaves to build unholy edifices dedicated to some ancient evil. We are freedom fighters.......but we are not always so. Once we were citizens.....Now we are warriors.....We are freedom fighters.......And we shall never surrender....

1st year of the War of Mython Independence

Bricks. If I ever see them again I'd probably go mad with anger and throw myself into the great smelters. Damn these bastards!How many of these buildings do they want erected?!Oh how I wish for the sweet escape of death but I'm too scared to kill myself and neither would the other slaves. Thus work goes on. Everyday we performed some mind-numbing and back-breaking tasks well beyond the capabilities of a normal man. We gave blessing to The Emperor for any brief respite that they provided though even this is questionably lacking. My faith was the only thing that kept me going during these periods before he came. Nobody knew his name and those who presumed to know is most probably lying. We just call him Logran. We're not even sure that's his real name. I'm not even sure why we called him that. He never spoke a word yet we learned a lot through his actions. How to create IEDs. How to shoot Lasguns. How to kill. He was our leader and we had our purpose. Or should I say he GAVE us a purpose. On how I ended up in the rebel army, let us just say none of those bastards survived the night.......
I was a close associate of Logran by this time. I even lead a squad of rebels. Constantly on the move and destroying supply lines. We acted like partisans. Commited assassinations, Destroying area of interests. We were a full blown rebel forces. Our forces were a constant threat to the invaders. Day by day, tales of our exploits were carefully inserted to the slave dens. Informing and also encouraging those who escaped somehow to join us. However, we did not survive this long without being cautious. Every recruit was tested. His loyalty tested. It is to ensure that we are all loyal to the Great Cause and to The Emperor. Slowly, our forces grew in numbers. At first, we only had a handful of men. Now,we have up to a thousand freedom fighters. All willing to die for the cause and The Emperor. How is it possible, I could not even fathom. In a year, we were becoming a genuine threat and that usually means a lot of attention from those bastards. Attention we do not want that is. They never sent in an army after us because we were never at one particular spot. Deception, misinformation, misguidance, and all sorts of practical tactics synonymous with guerilla warfare. Slowly but surely, we are withering them down. Pecking at their bodies like carrion birds unto the dead.....

"Tis no avail I rightly entreat upon thee thy quest of folly!"
                                                             - Saint Romus

It was the year 421 M42. On the planet Ryfus, the Knightly Order of Fiery Chivalry sallied forth from their Fortress of Absolution. It was a cold winter morning when they marched to the Marshes to be rid of the monsters that stalked the land. Of the 500 Knights, one was special. He knew he was special and so does the Order. His name was Ramius. However, his specialty was not always accepted in the order. Rumours abound speak of his talent as witchcraft for few has seen it and those who did spoke none of it to them. This further stoked the fires of jealousy as ever was he excluded from menial duties. He was always seen with at least one of the veteran Knights discussing his progress in the order. Now, he was even at the helm of the First Vanguard to the Marshes. Commanding the other squires as if he were a Knight himself. Of course, little did he know that the expedition would prove to be the destruction of his world.

For days the expeditionary forces scoured the Marshes of every creature deemed too dangerous to be left alive. Always he was first to the fray and the last out of it. Their quest continued on until the month was gone and fewer and fewer monsters were found. Of the 500, only 300 remained. And then it occurred, the event that was to destroy his world. A beast greater than any the history of that planet spoke of. A fanged creature with multiple appendages and even more eyes. The sight of it ruined the sanity of those who had suffered and it was the catalyst that finally broke the crusaders. In a short moment it killed 20 men outright. They didn't stand chance. Finally, after witnessing the deaths of his command, he charged the creature with all the strength he could muster of his horse. And when the horse collapsed of exhaustion, he ran towards the creature. Never stopping and with a bluish streaks of lightning he charged at the creature.

It was a titanic battle. He stood his ground as the creature lashed at him with its claws. He didn't flinch nor did he step back. In fact, he stepped forwards with the streaks now becoming a full blown storm of energy. It protected him from the creature's claws and bites. It gave him strength to grapple with the creature. And finally through either the wounds it received or exhaustion, it fell. It was a great victory and also a great loss. A knight was now lost to them. A brother now became a stranger. A paladin became a witch.

"Lord Magister?! What have we committed to be regaled with your presence?!"

"At ease Lieutenant General. I am here not for delightful conversations but for matters of trust." The Lord Magister was a wily one, as I was told from the many a days of conversations with the others in High Command. Trust was a strong word especially when it concerns the lives of thousands of men with him included in the equation. To propose such political treachery was further proof to the deceit he was capable of.

"Business of trust my Lord? How so?"

"DON'T play with me! I know you know what I'm trying to propose. So let us do away with such impertinence and commence this illicit meeting. I know the so called threats it shall posit to your illustrious career and have much a risk to mine as yours so let us talk as an ally fighting away injustice rather than you postulating that I could have an ulterior motive behind such propositions."

"But my Lord?" I replied in a sarcastic manner which from his face I could tell he knows me playing around still. "I know not what propositions you would propose to one so humble as me. If you'd be kind enough to illuminate me on your plans I would be delighted to h-"

"Even now you play such games! The Lord General MUST DIE! THAT is my proposition! Oh I am not so ignorant that I cannot tell when one is lying or being contemptuous to me. I know what the other generals were saying. They mock at my attempts but only from those who do not know the truth of it. The Lord General is INSANE!!He would commit to the assault the entire battle group! I would not have retaliated against his better judgem-"

"Then why are you?". The man had a point. A strange change was detected from the Lord General after he was wounded on Gurao Prime. He was more committed if one could truly use such a word. Some would even say his behaviour to be erratic and sadistic. Last week alone saw the execution of 3000 rebels. Half of those in the very ranks we fielded. Even the most minor infraction was punishable by death.

"You know what I am speaking of. The man has gone mad. His actions now further proves it. He is incapable to le-"

"And who shall be his replacement? You?"

"Of course! I am a better qualified man th-" he fell down with a hole in his head.

"Shame. If he had nominated me, I would have accepted it without having to resort to such actions. Guards!! Inform the Lord General that sedition is in his ranks and the instigator is dead. Go!", Shame indeed..........

On the years after the Crusade of Great Reverence. Colonel Obmar, drafted 434M42

A year after his release from the Guard, Obmar was left jobless and without friends. This could have lead to his eventual killings of 20 Imperial Citizens and 15 Arbites. He was taken down after a lengthy battle in front of the Church of Divine Eminence.  That particular battle took the lives of 8 arbites, all were wearing carapace armour, and 4 Imperial citizens. Witnesses reported the battle as a hail of lights and flashes followed by random screams and a miraculous victory on the part of the Adeptus Arbites. Had it not for the perchance event of him gazing for a long time, the Arbites would have the worse case of mass slaughter on the planet since the killings by the Chaos Cult of Khornate worshippers some 400 years ago.

At the moment of his death, 20 of the eagles from the Imperial Governor's palace flew into a rage of frenzy and escaped the compound of the palace and was seen flying in circles around the site where he stood. The significance of this event was to play a part later in the year 466M42 to prove the sainthood of Obmar in the official list of Imperial Saints.

There was once a time when I thought merely serving My Emperor in this Holy Church Of his Divine Emminence was enough to satiate His demands for the faithful. Alas tis was not to be so, for the call of duty to my Lord was great indeed. The grand scheme of things they call it in the Synod of Imperium Domine. I was drafted on the eve of 434M42 to be an Imperial Guard of His Holy Majesty. It was a long campaign. I could still remember my first kill. It was a rebel insurgent on the planet Kraminos. Twas the first year of the Crusade of Holy Reverence. Named as such in reverence for the day of The Emperor's Coming on Klaviol of which the Crusade Master hailed from. He had the look of an age far too young to be led into battle. So young to have not known which side he fought for. That particular battle changed me somewhat. I became battle-hardened. A veteran as they said. Bathed in the fires of battle and felt the cold icy steel of traitors upon the flesh. My scars were plentiful and many. it was the time I truly felt like an insignificant soul. Drifting from battle to battle until the day I join the rank of my comrades who have departed to meet the Emperor. That day however was stolen from me. I watched as more and more of my comrades departed. Only I remained of the original Guardsmen who left my world for this crusade. I was the original 10,000. The last of it. Each passing year I felt that Death would elude me again. I became more foolhardy, stupid even, as time passes by. Perhaps I longed for the sweet call of release but others would think I had gone mad and longed for the thirst of blood. This notion infuriates me more than any other insult they could throw at me. Once, I had even the momentary bouts of insanity to have struck down a comrade who uttered such remarks in my presence. He was still reeling from the pain for 2 months. The campaign continued on as usual.

However, on the final year of the campaign 464M42, I was given the honour of carrying the Lord General's flag onto the Pedestal of Victory. Erected on the site of the last planet liberated from the hand of the Traitorous Orks of which was the last race to oppose the Imperium in the Sector. It was a great honour and to commemorate the event, a holopict was given with the seal of the Lord General to prove to my people that I had served my Emperor well. Thought I was elated to have been given the honour and the holopict, I would soon feel disappointment when the List of released personnel was read out. I was given the honour of returning home.

So very soon. The grip of Death still eluded me. I was still free of it. Why does this happen. Traitors in the ranks? Jealousy in the barracks? I would not be denied my place at the side of The Emperor! I will find the sweet release of Death! The grand scheme of things. I still remembered that saying even after these long years in the Guard. Maybe if I believed in it more, I could find the answer to my question.

Heresy! Heresy as far as the eyes can see! A war hero given the cold shoulder. Given the looks of a stranger. Was I forgotten? Was my actions irrelevant? Was everything I fought for for naught? I survived the Culling of the Guard in 444M42. I survived the creeping barrage of Artillery fire. I survived a drawn out hand-to-hand combat with a rogue general. I killed the Traitors of Kraminos. And I KILLED A CHILD IN HIS NAME! Why then am I pushed aside. A relic they called me. They thought I was deafen by the war but I was improved from it. Gone now was my profession. Gone now was my friends and relatives. Gone now was my hope on my own world. Gone now indeed. I wasn't to belong here. I was to have died on the fields of battle but even this was denied me. I will make my self be known. And they shall know me.

Today, I killed another traitor. He was leaking information to the enemy. I was separated from my Platoon, the vox networks are down and Main HQ was inaccessible. I was alone. I had to do my duty to my Emperor. I was nearly discovered by the blue armoured soldiers. They were using a standard Imperial Shotgun. Odd I thought concerning their allegiance.

I was cornered. Betrayed by a stupid mistake. The enemy laid a trap and I fell for it. No matter. I will not die without a fight. They shall know how a patriot fights his battles.

The New High Lord, Fdola. Self proclaimed as he was, had some grand schemes to rival the True High Lords. Not that it mattered to me but nonetheless, I had a duty to perform. This so called rabble of a man beguiled the serfs under him with humility and the promise of eternal peace. Such folly. Such immense avarice. Not even The High Lords could be summoned to match such lack of discretion. True enough they hold the Imperium together but as so far as efficiency was concerned. And shall I speak no further of this, the rebel army is of a more important note. They had managed to subvert three star system underneath them, which I can attest is a feat indeed. Such vainglorious things indeed. What was three star systems to an Empire of Billions? These star systems were well guarded indeed. The expeditionary force sent in was now almost destroyed. The war effort is now bogged down and requests for reinforcements were coming in streams. Though surprisingly, reinforcements seem somewhat accelerated in their acquirements. I did suspect the High Lords see the rebels as an affront to their sovereignity and had expedite the acquirement process. This would warrant my utmost attention once the matter here was settled. The plan was simple. The Ist Army Group would assault the star system with manufacturing and logistical capabilities while the main spearhead, 2nd and 4th  Army Group would assault the Main system. The Imperial Navy  had seen more success in this matter as Enemy Fleets are utterly destroyed and their reinforcements are incapable to be deployed along the Prussaon Rift. Though Imperial Navy had seen the most success in the Crusade, the ground battles were seeing dismal performances and even more abominable losses. The two Army Group outnumbers and outgunned the adversaries but with a severe lack of tactical efficacy, the ground forces had seen the most numbers of casualties and on the target world, reports were in that the offensive were repelled. Undoubtedly resulting from the domino effect from previous failures. the main world proved to be the most reselient. The 1st Army Group was at least successful in recapturing the vital manufactorums but with supplies in no short order, it seems that a more vital asset of manpower was required. With that, I formulated a quick solution at the cost of the Lord General's head on a pike and his retinues burned. A discreet kill-team was to be sent to kill or capture, preferably killed, the False High Lord.

Verily, such indifference that which assailed me fortuitously after witnessing such travesty committed in lee of great impropriety,

Such a fiend exists which in regards to willingly copy those whom passion gives credibility and whose credibility lies with others whom it follows upon like sheeps to slaughter.

The Fallen.........Guardian.......He fell not in battle but in grief. Sadness overtook rationale and logic. The cold calculating gaze now an empty beast. No more as enthuse to his guardianship than to revelry in sadness. What feeling of despair took our brother that day as his love was spurned. He knows better of it than to dedicate his love to a mortal. Fleeting as they are to us Gods, we know better than to seek their short life. Their short touch. Was it this feeling of wanting did you sought from this mortal? I wonder. Should I had too found a love amongst mortals before I took up the matle of guardianship?Erring, I have strayed from my thoughts and no longer. Though such never faltered in appearing amongst even Gods. Sadness overtook reason, no longer but a memory now of distant past. 5000 years in fact have passed since last we saw him in his grieving. We dared not entreat upon the room which was his prison and fortress. Brought him did we upon the Gaze yet he did not stir from such depths. Will I to oexperience it I wonder. Such feelings of despair that overcomes us so in no small measure that His Gaze averts not our eyes. That His sacrifice was considered vain in regards. We have learned far too much to be uncivil and declared him a traitor. We know of sadness when pass did He from Mortal vigour. We know the depth of sadness that he felt. That is why in servitude we found solace for amongst Mortals we find sadness. Such tender kiss she once gave that could sway nations. Our mentality found with it no malice nor spite. Nor magic or touch. It was pure and honest. Some stirred amongst us that He twitched His eyes upon seeing it. Ever so slightly that as gods we would not have noticed but our abilities given way to function.  However, remembrance upon sadness be our mettle. War have we left to our weaker siblings. Even now we trust them not upon the completion of it. Too reckless, uncivil, weak and undeniably without aim. Too haughty in some, too proud in others. Never will the Galaxy again see the Guardians act once more. We have acted once in times of great magnitude of crisis. Though that was of utter desperation and we perceive it as such. The Galaxy would have fallen to us if we were to reclaim it but no more for our duty we doth remember. Out zeal, our mettle, our calling........Now remember siblings.......of our sacrifice to sadness. Remember so that ye may not suffer like our brother. Alone in anguish upon cold steel, his heart frozen and no longer beat to the rhytm of the duty he left behind. Remember siblings.......Remember the fleeting wind that is a mortal's love and know ye not  to seek it. Our duty is our calling. Our love is in servitude and in servitude we lay our love which balks not in laying down its life................Remember siblings.....Remeber Guardians.......Remember the sacrifice and sadness in our hearts

"Brothers! Relish in the fact that we are His Chosen! We are His instruments of doom! Remember it well Brothers!"
Such rhetoric belittles the stoic and grim situation we are hurdling into. Strapped inside our Thunderhawk's restraining chairs, into a place where death deals with us a lethal blow from every corner. Every crevices, Every potholes.....
"Brothers! Why do you all look so sad? Rejoice! For we are heading into Death's grip! Our duty is at an end! The mission is a simple one! We cannot lose! We shall be triumphant! Rejoice!"
Oh how I wished I could be like him. Oblivious to the fact, Only obeying never questioning. His mad and fiery speech is commendable if only he were not so mad with the lust for combat.
"Be quiet! Maintain Radio Silence! We are getting nearer to the drop zone! Remember your lessons well and keep in mind that the area is hot!"
The Thunderhawk swerved impossibly to the right and if it hadn't been for our modifications, we would've been crushed by the immense pressure of it. The signal lights turned yellow and we put on our helmets. As the clamps activated, I felt a little relieved and comforted by the safety it provided. Soon, I thought, soon it will open up and 12 Marines will be unleashed upon countless heretics. A fair odds and I knew we would win but I could not ignore this feeling of anxiety lurking behind my ears. I would only later discover the extend of my instincts later that day.

We call it as such. Of course no one knew why it held such an ominous name. Some say in the distant past when The Emperor still walked among us, it was given the name Trial. Others mentioned of secret tribulations which haunts its inhabitants in the depth of night, haunting the deep seated souls of the victims. Conjuring up nightmarish worlds of unimaginable sorrow and pain. Dreams which some say scars the inner throne of those unfortunate enough to witness it. Though it proves a delightful distraction, the task at hand holds more importance than some history lesson. My name is Unbenkant, a brother of the Ultramarines, and I have no fear. No fear of superstitions or the bounds of a mortal mind. I gladly invite such nightmares only to conquer it, Emperor forgive me for such vanity, for I have seen much worse in this vast cosmos to be afraid of such petty illusions. I've seen men torn apart by lictors, shredded by daemons, turned inside-out by sorcery and hung by their own spines. Such atrocities have made me disillusioned by these stories of horrors beyond the physical. Such imagination I reckon could have caused the naming of it. No matter, for now the battle for Trial begins and I surely would not like to be the first to lose a battle due to distractions of the mind.......