*Disclaimer* I do not own any pictures or media, or the franchises used in the making of this story, and all credit goes to the original/current creators/owners. This includes the current story cover.
This is not an official work to any of the utili...
I do not own any pictures or other media used in the making of this chapter and all credit goes to the original creators.
Also note that all of the books in this series (including the Ark of War) take place well after the Heresy, so this would technically be the Second Siege of Terra.
This Chapter takes place between to the Ark of War's chapters, "Evaluations" and "The Serran Dragoons pt. 1", so it's about a half-a-year timeskip since the prologue.
The fires of war rage on. The Sol system, the birthplace of the Imperium, and by extension the Throneworld, are assailed by numbers legion and motives malevolent.
The Imperium struggles against it's desperate struggle against the Darkness, as millenniums of warfare and animosity are seemingly about to draw to a close . . .
With the Emperor and much of the Legions Astartes missing, what true hope does the Imperial people have?
Well, in short, they have none.
They fight because they must, because if not them, then who?
They seek no salvation, they know that they are on their death beds . . .
But they are the only ones keeping the Darkness contained, if only for a moment. First at the frontlines of Cadia and the Cadian network . . . and before that at the lost fortress world of Reach. . .
And now at the very center of the known light, the nexus of all remaining light from the Emperors current and eons past . . . If they lose here, then the omniverse is lost. Every hour, every minute, every second that the Darkness and it's abyssal armies are spilling the blood of countless Imperial martyrs, the more time they give others to live . . . and to prepare. The Imperium had already sent word to the few far-flung dimensions they knew of that were still independent of the Imperium to prepare for the coming onslaught . . .
But it seems that it was not enough. They fall one after another, and the defenders of the Imperium have tried in vain to assist, but the remnants of the Imperium are scattered, mostly disorganized, and far-off from where they are truly needed . . .
Holy Terra itself.
. . .
(The scene cuts to a Thunderhawk, flying above the clouds and towards a series of bright flashes outside of our view).
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(A Thunderhawk, make it yellow and Black though).
The symbol of a wreathed armored gauntlet is clearly visible on the side of the craft.
Inside the craft, the lights are off, with the exception of red klaxons. Several several yellow-armored figures can be made out, even if just barely. . . One is standing and speaks as the others repeat while kneeling. Some sort of battle prayer. Their voices are somewhat distorted by a vox or radio of some sort.
