HeresyThis is a tale of heresy of the greatest kind, a tale of Ultramarine bloodshed and skulls for the skull throne.
A taskforce of fourth company Ultramarines were trekking among the many thousands, even hundred thousands, of orks. Massive to those compared to the dead of the Ultramarines, whose prowess in battle was unmatched by any save the heretics.
Theirs was a simple mission - recover the gene seed of their fallen brethren and crush anything that may threaten their mission. Their only immediate threat was if a company of those blasted green skins ambushed them though they were told that the green skin threat was under control and not much threat; they’d already encountered a suicide raid consisting of fifteen stormboyz and a massive company of twenty nobz. They began thirty strong but were down to five men, all terminators, the only terminators, most had been killed in the surprise suicide raid as they had been outflanked and then the nobz were just overkill with their cruel, barbaric axe weapons.
A-pod, the sergeants’ assistant was beginning to doubt the sergeants’ saneness as he was beginning to make rash cruel decisions for pleasure and A-pod remembered as every Ultramarine, did that selfishness was the first sign of heresy, it was every Ultramarines law, according to the priests of Adaptus Astartes, that selflessness was the quickest way to ascend to a better fighter.
He heard the shot of a storm bolter as sergeant Khayne shot down six ork boys off in the distance, A-pod killed two more as they drew closer and crushed the life of another with his power fist. As the terminators behind him drew their power swords, the sergeant, even though he had lightning claws, put his storm bolter away and drew his combat knife, he chopped the orks limbs off one by one and then cut the tongue off and left him to die cackling as the blood flowed through his fingers, he licked them, his fangs showing, looking more crazed than ever.
As he licked the last of his blood off his fingers and turned with a glint of something that struck unknown fear in any mortal thing. A strange red light seemed to emanate from him as he rose to the air, his terminator armor cracked and expanded; it glistened to a blood red color that was unmistakable to any imperial force. Horns sprouted from his head, curling backwards, and one from his shoulder, in the rough shape of a skull, thinning to a sharp point. His combat sword transmuted into a giant thunder hammer, his storm bolter now a massive plasma cannon.
A blast of life draining energy burst out of him killing the puny terminators that were proud to serve the false emperor who was barely alive, just a legacy to influence people with, but he was no longer part of their gullible chapter, he was an almighty daemon prince of Khorne who had massive armies at his command. His former ‘brothers’ would now be sentenced to a thousand years of fighting daemons in the warp, he might be merciful, if they begged and pleaded him to let them become an almighty server of chaos. Those that were stubborn he would hunt down and crush himself, with his own bear hands he would rip their skulls from their bodies, suck all the good flesh off, and add the skulls to the skull throne of his almighty leader Khorne.
By Ryan Esplin A 12yr old at KPS
Only games Workshop may publish any of this material and only with MY PERMISSION
Rock on Chaos, may you take many skulls for the skull throne!