(A/N: Hi all, sorry i didnt post last Thursday and on, i was just having a rough couple days. Feeling better now though!)
=== Maximus ===
The void swallowed him whole as Maximus launched from the belly of the battle barge, his thrusters screaming as jets of fire trailed behind his armored frame. The modified Centurion suit was a fortress and a weapon both, an apex of Imperial might reforged for this strange universe. Its armored plating shimmered as its Iron Halo activated an energy shield.
The shoulder-mounted autocannon cycled with a menacing whine, the grav cannon on the other side growled with building power, and the wrist-mounted heavy bolter clattered eagerly at his command. His gauntleted left hand, a massive power fist that crackled with raw force, while his right hand gripped a massive blade of Beskantium and energy, its edge glowing faintly in the cold dark.
For a heartbeat, he was alone in the abyss, the curve of Mortis looming below and the star-choked void stretching out above.
Then thousands of Vulture droids rose from the planet's surface in vast, shifting clouds.
Maximus did not slow as he plummeted towards the planet.
He hit the first droid head-on, the full weight of the Centurion suit slamming into it like a meteor. The machine crumpled instantly, shattering against his armor's plate, fragments scattering across the dark. Thrusters flaring as he redirected in mid-flight and smashed shoulder-first into another, sending it spiraling into its comrades. A third dived for his flank, but Maximus's power fist snapped out, catching it by the wing before crushing it into slag, hurling the wreck into the void.
More swarmed him, diving in from every angle. His targeting systems flared alive, marking dozens of crimson runes across his vision. His weapons answered in kind.
The autocannon mounted on his left shoulder roared, each mass-reactive shell detonating with thunderous blossoms of fire. Droids burst apart in showers of molten shrapnel, dozens at a time torn into wreckage. His grav cannon unleashed bursts of crushing force, collapsing small groups of vultures together, their frames buckling as gravity clapped them into each other. They detonated in fiery chains, leaving pockets of void littered with wrecks.
Maximus propelled himself forward, his thrusters belching fire. His massive frame became a battering ram once more, smashing through tens of droids with his power fist extended. Wrecks spun away in his wake, their frames torn open by sheer momentum. His massive sword licked outward, arcs of blue energy flashing as he carved through machines just beyond his reach.
Behind him, the Azure Talons burst from the launch bays, their sleek strike-craft streaking like spears of light across the void. Lightweight, fast, and viciously armed, they darted into the swarm at his heels, bolters barking in rhythmic fury. Explosions peppered the starfield as the Talons cut swathes through the vultures, their formation tight around Maximus like lightning arcing from a thunderhead.
"Form on me," Maximus's vox boomed, his voice thunderous over the chaos. "We carve a path through this swarm, straight to the surface!"
The Talons acknowledged with curt bursts of static and tightened formation, weaving in and out of Maximus's wake.
The droids pressed harder, their swarm reforming with mechanical coordination. Waves of them slammed into the Talons, laser fire saturating the air. Several fighters spun out trailing smoke, one disintegrating in a blossom of fire. Maximus bellowed in fury and threw himself toward the densest cluster.
His sword cleaved three apart in a single stroke, the blade cutting them clean in half. His fist closed around another, crushing its head like dry parchment. The grav cannon pulsed again, pulling an entire wing together before imploding them in a thunderous collapse. His autocannon rattled endlessly, every round another droid reduced to splinters.
More ships descended into the battle, the vast hulls of the Imperium's warships emerging from orbit, their gun batteries roaring. Bolter shells and macro-cannon fire rained from the heavens, smashing apart entire knots of droids with every volley. At their flanks, the Republic cruisers released torrents of blue and green turbolaser fire, carving through the swarm. Together, the fleets formed a wall of firepower above the planet, hammering the Separatist machines without mercy.
Still the vultures came, their numbers unending. They broke into smaller groups and hurled themselves at Maximus, their blaster bolts raking against his shield as he activated the massive Iron Halo on his back. His barrier flared with each impact, energy fields sparking and shimmering under the strain. Warnings crawled across his visor, but the Ultramarine ignored them. With every strike, every blow, his fury only grew.
One cyborg dropped from a ship, and latched onto his back, claws digging into his thruster housing. Maximus twisted, and slammed himself backward into another cluster.
Another droid tried to ram him head-on, but Maximus caught it by the wings, ripped it in two with brute force, and hurled both halves into the void.
The Talons cheered across the vox, their morale surging as their commander waded through the storm. They pressed harder, cutting into the swarm with renewed ferocity. The combined might of Astartes and fleet began to turn the tide.
For the first time, the swarm hesitated. Their formations wavered.
Maximus raised his sword high, its burning edge reflecting the light of countless fires. His thrusters flared, wreathing him in flame, and his voice shook the void itself:
"Brothers! Sisters! Strike with me! Let them know the wrath of the Imperium!"
He hurled himself downward, dragging the battle with him as he descended toward Mortis. The vultures surged in desperation, swarming to stop his descent, but they were too late. Maximus became a blazing comet ripping through their ranks, his Talons following in his wake, his every blow carving a path of ruin through the mechanical tide.
Maximus broke through the last of the swarm like a spear thrown by the Emperor Himself. His Centurion suit burned like a falling star, flames wreathing his armored frame as he pierced Mortis' upper atmosphere. Below him, the planet convulsed with war. The horizon was alive with fire and smoke, the skies tearing open as thousands of drop-pods, gunships, and troop carriers descended in burning arcs.
The Imperium's wrath fell first.
Thousands of drop-pods shrieked like meteors as they plunged from orbit, their armored shells burning through the atmosphere. They hammered into the scorched plains of Mortis with thunderous impacts, earth splitting and fire blasting outward in shockwaves. One by one they exploded open, disgorging Astartes in full warplate, bolters raised, blades gleaming. Mandalorians surged out alongside them, jetpacks igniting as they shot skyward in tight, precise squadrons, their warcries carried even through the roar of battle.
Maximus slammed down amidst them, his impact cratering the ground. His shield flared, scattering debris and bodies in all directions. As dust and fire cleared, the Centurion towered over the battlefield, his sword raised high. The Astartes bellowed litanies of war, bolters barking, flamers roaring, as they advanced in perfect lines of ceramite and fire.
But they were not alone.
From the skies above, the first drop-ships of the Republic streaked down in their own wave of fury. LAATs split apart as they entered the atmosphere, opening their hatches to unleash torrents of laser fire before landing on the fields below. Clones stormed from their carriers, white-armored troopers forming firing lines in the churned mud. Jedi led them, blades igniting in brilliant arcs of green, and blue, their figures blazing with the light of the Force. They charged at the head of their legions, deflecting blaster fire, hurling back the enemy with bursts of Force power.
The Necron-cyborg legions stirred from their staging grounds, rising from trenches like a tide of steel. Their bodies were twisted wrecks of flesh fused with machine, weapon mounts protruding from backs, arms replaced by heavy cannons, eyes glowing with soulless light. They advanced in lockstep, firing with mechanical precision. Their weapons screamed across the plains, energy bolts cutting swathes through clone ranks and sparking off Astartes armor. Droids poured from bunkers in endless streams, skeletal frames marching beside their cybernetic kin.
Maximus roared and hurled himself forward. His autocannon thundered, tearing apart cyborg after cyborg, their torsos rupturing in sprays of sparks and gore. His grav cannon pulsed, crushing entire squads beneath its invisible weight, the ground splitting as their frames imploded. He waded into them like a titan of old, his sword cleaving arcs of incandescent destruction, his power fist smashing machines into wreckage. Each blow was a small cataclysm, each strike another gap ripped open in the enemy line.
At his flanks, the Azure Talons struck. Their jetpacks ignited as they landed in around him, their blasters shrieking as they poured fire into the swarms. Mandalorians darted in and out of cover, rockets spiraling into cyborg phalanxes, their Beskantium blades hacking apart those who closed the gap. The sky above them turned into a storm of contrails and fire as Mandalorian gunships and Republic LAATs strafed the enemy formations, pounding trenches into molten glass.
A squadron of Jedi surged ahead, their sabers a blur. One vaulted into a cyborg phalanx, spinning through them like a cyclone, each sweep of their blade cutting down another. The clones advanced at their backs, DC-15s hammering out sheets of red fire.
But the cyborgs did not break.
They advanced in unfeeling silence, weapons carving through the advancing armies. A Mandalorian to Maximus's left was torn down, his armor riddled with glowing green holes. Another screamed as a bolt punched through his chestplate, his jetpack spiraling out of control before exploding mid-air. Clone troopers fell in rows as the cyborgs unleashed concentrated volleys.
A towering cyborg twice Maximus' size broke through the haze ahead, its torso fused with the hull of a tank, its arms replaced with massive plasma cannons. It let out a distorted, metallic roar and unleashed a barrage straight at him. Maximus's shield flared as the blasts hammered him, turning an alarming shade of red, his armor ringing like a struck anvil. He staggered, then launched forward, boosters roaring. His sword cleaved downward, carving through the cyborg's torso in a blazing arc. Sparks and gore sprayed as the machine collapsed in two halves.
The ground shook again. More pods crashed around him, disgorging fresh waves of Astartes and Mandalorians. They fanned out, forming firing lines with heavy bolters roaring. Squads of Terminators strode among them, storm shields raised, their thunder hammers falling like judgment itself.
In the skies, the dogfight raged on. Vultures screamed overhead, strafing the battlefield. Republic fighters and Talon gunships tangled with them, the heavens crisscrossed with streaks of laser fire and contrails of burning wrecks. Explosions rained down like falling stars, shaking the ground with every impact.
Through it all, Maximus pressed on, leading the spearhead. His sword rose and fell like a guillotine, his bolters rattled without pause, his fists crushed whatever dared to stand before him. His vox thundered across the battlefield, his words clear even in the choking haze of war.
"Onward! Burn them to ash!"
The Astartes answered with warcries. The Mandalorians screamed their oaths. The clones shouted their defiance. The Jedi pushed forward, sabers gleaming brighter than ever.
"For the Emperor!" a Terminator roared, his voice shaking the air through vox amplification.
The Terminator squad advanced as a walking wall of death. Every step was a barrage. Every volley left nothing standing.
The cyborgs answered with a tide of horror.
One lurched forward, its upper body nothing but a screaming torso wired into a multi-barrel cannon, its legs piston-driven steel. It fired in wild arcs, plasma bolts searing the air. Maximus's autocannon barked in answer, three shells hammering into the abomination and detonating it into flames and broken limbs.
Another cyborg, a hulking brute with its ribcage torn open and replaced by a glowing reactor, charged straight for him. Maximus's grav cannon flared. The monster imploded, ribs, reactor, and skull crunching inward until the whole mass collapsed into a ruin of compacted metal and meat. He stepped over it without breaking stride.
Cultists surged in fanatically, chanting in guttural unison for their dark gods. They threw themselves against the Astartes like waves breaking on rock. Maximus met them with Beskantium. His sword cleaved left, bisecting five at once. His fist smashed down, turning others into pulp that sprayed across the dirt. The heavy bolter mounted on his wrist fired into the press, shells detonating bodies into meat and ash.
The Terminators crashed into the same tide. One met a pack of cyborgs, half a dozen spindly horrors with serrated claws for hands, and answered with a thunder hammer. The weapon crashed down, obliterating all six in a single earth-shattering blow. Another Terminator's lightning claws ripped apart a charging brute, sparks showering as metal and flesh were shredded in showers of gore.
"Left flank, incoming!" crackled a Terminator's vox.
Maximus turned. A mass of cyborgs was charging, a tide of steel and corpses fused together, a crude war engine crawling on six twisted limbs, a dozen screaming faces bolted into its carapace. It mounted twin plasma cannons that roared with fire, hammering his shield until the barrier shattered into a million small shards.
He bellowed, the vox turning his roar into thunder across the battlefield. He launched forward, his thrusters igniting in a burst of fire. Plasma crashed into him, burning against his armor, but he didn't slow. He smashed into the war engine with the force of a meteor. His fist slammed through its cannon, wrenching the limb off in an explosion of sparks. His sword rose high, then came down in a killing stroke, cleaving the horror in half. Screams, machine, human, and something else, wailed as the construct collapsed into flaming ruin.
"Kill them all!" Maximus thundered, his voice booming over vox and across the war-torn plain. "Let no heresy stand before the Emperor's wrath!"
The Terminators answered with a storm of fire and steel. They advanced in unbreakable formation, storm bolters shredding droids, hammers crushing cyborgs into ruin, claws tearing apart cultists limb from limb.
All around them, Mortis burned. The Republic pushed forward on one side, while the Imperium carved its path of bloody dominance on the other. The battlefield became a maelstrom of fire, screaming metal, and broken flesh.
And at the very center of it all, Kharath ritual reached its zenith, and the portal tore open even wider.
Releasing hoards of horror unlike anything the Universe had ever known.
===
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