Gatehammer: A 30K Warhammer story. (discontinued)

The Angel, the Wolf, the Blade, and the Praetorian.

The rider rushed towards the gate, both he and the horse he rode nearly dead from exhaustion. A legionnaire of the Empire dropped his shield and spear to help the rider off his horse.

"I... I have to speak to the emperor!"  The Legionnaire looked at his fellows and with a nod began to aid the rider into the Throne room where the emperor awaited, the room was dark, only lightened enough for those inside to see the main causeway.

The emperor raised his head in surprise and quickly pushed himself up, a loud yell reverberating from his mouth.

"What is the meaning of this!" Anger spread throughout his elder features, his own personal guard bracing themselves, shields slammed onto the stone floor and spears pointed forward.

"I-I am sorry your majesty, but this man has a message for you!" The legionnaire cried out, throwing the rider towards the emperor. The emperor, from the steps to his throne looked down upon this ragged man, who in turn looked up towards the emperor.

"I-Indeed I do," The rider coughed, exhaustion slowly catching up with him. "Giants, giants made of steel and metal and gold. They appeared out of the newly summoned Gate upon Alnus Hill with swords the size of men and strange boxes made of metal. About ten thousand of them, my emperor."

The Emperor looked down at the rider then turned to one of his personal guard.

"Gather the Commanders of the Imperial Army, gather the garrison. They march for Alnus Hill."
———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Nothing. Nothing but farmland and forest, mountains and hills. It was as if the Gate had led them to a agri-world like Tallarn(was before the Heresy). Sanguinius gazed across the sky before turning to his brothers, and especially he who was his greatest kin. Horus Lupercal.

Imperial Fists and Ultramarines began construction on a fortress to house all ten thousand Legionnaires, along with their vehicles, vehicles like Land Raiders, Sicarian Punisher Assault Tanks, and even giant Spartan Assault Tanks. Blood Angels and Luna Wolves patrolled the area, Land Speeders and Jetbikes readied in preparation of scouting missions. It was truly a small undertaking yet of surprisingly importance. Sanguinius hovered over to the bald and proud Horus, his powerful wings a pure white.

Horus turned, a smile emerging from his face as he was met with the sight of his golden haired kinsmen.

"Sanguinius! Beloved brother. The normalcy of this new land seem strange doesn't it?" Horus asked, the hypotheticals of the land running through his Demi-god mind, running almost as if a cogitator.

"Aye, Horus. I pray we meet no Xenos and especially filthy Orks!" They both laughed, a laughter so charismatic or great that any mortal would be brung out of their melancholy or choler that they'd be as if they were never those two before. It brung out childlike innocence into the most hardened of men, and the Astartes could barely hold back their own joy from cracking through their inhuman shells

"Alas, what if man too, has conquered this world? There are crops here that resemble those of Old Terra." Horus replied, and both looked across the forests, rivers, hills. They saw a land free of the horrors of Old Night. Free from the Iron War. The Mechanicus would surely love this place.

A Day Later, 1:38 PM Solar.

The Army assembled numbered nearly half a hundred thousand imperial legionnaires, five thousand of which were cavalry and another one thousand wyvern riders. A mighty force. They marched on the road to Alnus Hill, joined by humanoid Auxiliaries and slave soldiers they were all ready to take back Alnus Hill from the strange invaders. Any other nation in Falmart would've feared such a considerable force that now numbered sixty thousand.

But the Astartes were not from Falmart, nor even this world. They were the ones who freed Humanity from the darkness of Old Night. They were the ones who liberated world after world from the clutches of the Xenos. They were the Emperor's chosen. They were led by his very sons. Demi-gods who could destroy entire worlds if they so wished.

And they had the might of technologies of the Iron War. Turrets and automated defenses activated, ready to target anything that registers as a threat, trenches and bunker complexes made of rockcrete, plasteel and other materials strengthened the defenses of the newly created Gate Fortress, now dubbed by the Imperials, "Nova Terra #0001."

Days passed and the Primarchs and their army awaited for any of the inhabitants of this world to come meet the,, hostile or not they were still weary, especially Guilliman. That's when a vox's rune glowed for Sanguinius. Glancing at his brothers he answers,

"Lord Primarch, feudal army four klicks to the northeast, numbering sixty thousand feudals, including humanoid Xenos and mutants." The Primarchs looked at each other, having not expected such a force. They expected at the very least an army that utilized autoguns. But swords and spears? The Astarte was not finished with his report however.

"They have five thousand feudal cavalry as well as a thousand flying units with riders." Now cavalry on a feudal world wasn't too strange, if this was a lost colony of Old Humanity then perhaps they brought horses along with them. But flying forces? Organic ones nonetheless. The Primarchs looked at each other once more and then Sanguinius activates his armors own vox.

"Astarte, return to DF#4. All Astartes return to your nearest DF, the inhabitants of this world reveal themselves." Sanguinius ordered, his voice still soft but so slightly firm. A angel he truly was. Landspeeders and Jetbikes rushed back to the Gate Fortress, Astartes prayed their final prayers to their war machines, machine spirits. Tanks revving up, plasma guns whining as they charged to fire. And they waited.

Minutes passed as the dust cloud in the distance as they got closer and closer. A mighty force that outnumbered the Astartes six to one.

Then the very skies fell upon them. Bolters roared, ripping through the ranks of the Falmart army, a pair of Xiphon Interceptors broke the sound barrier, their weapons firing off utterly annihilating the Wyvern Riders. Deredeo Dreadnoughts firing off all six of their massive cannons, destroying the Auxiliaries of the Falmart Imperial Army.

It was utter destruction. By the end of the two minute barrage only half remained. The Astartes waited, waited to see whether they'll run and carry the tale of what happened here to their people. The Auxiliaries were mainly the ones who fled, they merely numbered a few hundred.

Then the giant armored gate that led into the fortress opened, its admantine workings separating to make way to a winged figure. It was giant, with pearl white wings marked here and there with blood red feathers. It carried a spear, a spear that felt like it carried the will of the gods to the legionnaires. They collapsed, the shining bright aura emanated from this golden haired giant, causing many to simply revere this being.

The Generals of the army, far to the back, looked at each other, then at their soldiers. And they rode, rode hard for the capital.