The Return of the Second Legion

WHITE STAINED RED

The World Eaters bellowed out with fury and bloodlust for their heretical god, and began their frenzied charge at us. "FIRE AND FLAMES." My men replied "WE ARE ONE!" With that I gave the order to charge, adrenaline pumping thought our bodies as we charged down the hill to meet our foe.

My sons...They could not feel pain nor fear, the perfect soldiers.  We charged towards the Heretics with the sun at our backs and our armor shining bright. Our two armies slammed into each other with tremendous force, hatred fueling our blows, limbs and blood flying over us. The sights and sounds of war were as I remember them.

The distinct growl of a chain weapon revving before cutting through flesh as a splash of crimson jetted out of the wound.
The boom of a bolter shell detonating inside an enemies body, exploding in a torrent of gore.
The sizzling of skin as it was melted and burned from the bone the charred blackened mass of a once distinguishable figure.
The crunch of ceramite being broken under foot.

The familiar sight of white being stained red.

This was our purpose in life. To fight and die to protect our Imperium. And we were proud to do so.
A World Eater bellowed out a challange to me, snapping out of my thoughts as a prepared myself for an attack. The traitor revved his chainaxes and charged towards me, raising his right axe to deliver a blow...He was far too slow as I impaled him on my lightning claw, I could feel hot blood run down my fingers. I pulled him back and lopped off his head with a strike of my sword. Sending his twitching body colliding with the ground.

He was followed up by another who was blasted away with a quick burst of my stormbolter. These savages were relentless, they were no better than rabid wild animals...And needed to be dealt with as such. It was hard to believe that millennia prior, these were once the proud warriors of my father. Now reduced to this state. Swinging my sword into an incoming enemy I lodged it into his chest. His body going limp and falling to the ground, stepping on him and wretched my sword out of his chest, a spatter of blood sprayed out as I did.

 Looking around I could see Lysandros grab the wrist of an enemy who was about to strike him down, and cut off his arm then procceded to spin around and stab the traitor through the gut. A terminator clad in Cataphratii armor ripped into the heretic forces with unbridled amounts of rage, fuelled by the desire for vengence. His twin chainaxes twirling and slashing in a whirlwind of blows. Hacking off limbs and spliting bodies. Assault marines rocketed to the otherside of the small force. Cutting off their means of escape and surrounding them.

The ranks of the World Eaters were thinning. I knew for sure that this was only a small portion of their former might. It was only a matter of time before the final traitor was executed. It was a small victory....But a Victory nonetheless.