Ruinstorm

by David Annandale

Temptation could not touch him, for there was no glory he desired. He fought for Terra and for Baal. He fought for the Emperor and the Imperium. Death could not touch him, for he was the lord of the Blood Angels, and in this heart of the enemy’s domain, it was he who had come as death.

Sanguinius

‘We have time for one attack before we are destroyed,’ Khalybus said. ‘Let it be our most ferocious. For Ferrus Manus and the Tenth Legion, for Durun Atticus and One Hundred and Eleventh Clan-Company, we will strike against the corruption of the machine.’

Khalybus

‘Turn us around. Open fire on the Sthenelus.’ ‘So ordered, captain. It has been an honour.’ ‘The honour has been mine.’ The two remaining Thunderhawks reversed course. Guns blazing, they hurled themselves at the revenant Sthenelus. ‘We fight still,’ Cruax said. ‘We do,’ Khalybus said. ‘To the end.’ He detached his grav-harness and stood. So did the other legionaries. They would meet the end on their feet. At his side, Levannas said, ‘We have made a good war.’ ‘We have,’ Khalybus said. The end had not come at Isstvan V. They had fought long. They had bled the enemy. They had taught the traitors that the Iron Hands and the Raven Guard were not extinct. Levannas extended his hand. ‘The flesh is weak,’ he said. He and Khalybus clasped forearms. ‘Victorus aut mortis,’ said Khalybus. Levannas’ smile was grim. ‘That is certain,’ he said. Khalybus raised his bolter. When the end came, he would fire. He did not wait long. The forwards section of the Thunderhawk peeled back for him. He had time to pull the trigger before the flames of night engulfed him.

Khalybus of the Tenth