Sunday, June 22, 2008

Ezekiel

He stopped.

With a lance in his heart, he stopped and knelt.

He bled, the black liquid flowing directly from his heart.

Then, he smiled.

Flashes.

He rouse and pulled the lance out, knowing full well that he cannot die from such flesh wound.

His second heart has not failed him, unlike any mortals, he is different. With a mighty shout from the combine forces of his three lungs, he screamed.

"Lupercal! lupercal! lupercal!"

The noble name of his father, the demigod, the most favorite son of the Emperor, Horus. Striking fear in any enemy that he has encountered, but not this one. The Dark Eldars, hedonistic Xeno life form, has no love for the concept of nobility and honor.

"Lunar wolves, to me! For the Emperor!"

Inhuman is what us mortals can describe the battle, for there are only mortals, watching from the orbit, in the comfort of man made plasteel and ferroglass.

The battle finished before it begun, the superhumans emerged victorious, as always, he thought.

"They shall be pure of heart and strong of body, untainted by doubt and unsullied by self-aggrandisement. They will be bright stars in the firmament of battle. Angels of Death whose shining wings bring swift annihilation to the enemies of Man. So it shall be for a thousand times a thousand years, unto the very end of eternity and the extinction of mortal flesh."

-Roboute Guilliman on the Space Marines

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