Gunshots echoed through a narrow passageway as an Imperial Guard soldier fled in desperation.
The man was clad in slightly damaged flak armor and clutched a lasgun in his arms: standard equipment for an Imperial soldier.
Yet, he did not embody the indomitable spirit of the organization renowned as the hammer of the Emperor of Mankind.
He ran at breakneck speed, not daring to look back.
The soldier merely aimed his lasgun behind him and fired frantically, his mind desperately searching for an escape in the metallic labyrinth.
"Damn it, what did I do to run into "that" thing?" he cursed as he ran.
He should have been posted at the intersection of the previous passageway, but he and his squad had encountered a formidable enemy.
The Imperial soldier could swear on his Emperor's throne that they had tried everything: neither lasguns nor bolters had any effect on this moving wall of steel.
"Even armor-piercing grenades only push it back half a step…" Unconsciously, he tightened his grip on his lasgun.
He wondered why their superiors hadn't provided them with more powerful weapons if they had anticipated such a grueling battle.
After all, as his squad unleashed their full firepower on the steel wall, it kept advancing.
The soldier shuddered as he recalled the scene, which had unfolded barely a minute ago.
They had deployed all their artillery, but to no avail. Their adversary seemed unstoppable. The Imperial soldier witnessed a gruesome spectacle when their target closed to point-blank range.
The mountain of steel wielded its bolter; with each shot, the upper bodies of his squadmates were reduced to a pulp of flesh.
Even their leader, a veteran of several wars, met a horrific end.
All that remained was a bloody mass plastered against the wall after a single bolter shot from the steel giant.
The Imperial soldier could only run.
He knew full well, after witnessing the miserable fate of his squad against this steel monster, that there was nothing to gain by facing it: no glory, no honorable death, only a tragic end like the countless anonymous dead of the Imperial Guard.
Perhaps because of these thoughts and self-justifying reflections on the logic of his flight, the soldier tripped over a corpse on the ground.
His heavily equipped body crashed hard, his lasgun slipping from his hands.
As he looked at the laser rifle lying in front of him, he remembered his instructor's words:
"Strap on your sling, or I'll shove that lasgun up your ass."
A harsh phrase, but nostalgic today.
But there was no time for nostalgia.
The soldier heard heavy footsteps behind him. The "wall of steel" was still pursuing him.
Desperate, he turned his head and saw a massive foot advancing toward him.
In that moment, he realized the futility of his flight and the weakness of his actions.
How many before him had known despair in this endless sea of stars? How many had given their lives for a cause greater than themselves?
The fear of the iron wall vanished.
The soldier cast aside his cowardice and stared fearlessly at his enemy, grabbing his useless lasgun and standing against the steel monster.
"For the Emperor!"
Atreus Longinus brought his iron boot down on the soldier's chest, crushing his ribs into pulp.
No one would ever know this soldier's name, nor the exceptional courage he displayed until the end of his life.
The Departmento Munitorum archives would record this battle as a failure, if it was deemed significant enough to be noted at all.
A young soldier witnessed the death of the former coward but did not react to the scene.
Unlike the first, he had not overcome his fear, burdened by his nature as a fresh recruit in the Imperial Guard.
His mouth hung open, desperately gasping for air, trying in vain to fill his lungs, flattened by fear.
Ignoring the young coward, Atreus continued down the passageway, his assault shield in hand.
He was not alone in the corridor, accompanied by his battle-brothers.
*Who's already on my left?* Atreus couldn't quite recall, his mind clouded by recent events.
At the start of the day, he was merely Alex ####, a 21-year-old who enjoyed collecting figurines and reading manga.
He had just finished watching *To Be Hero X* and decided to expand his collection of Iron Warriors figurines on his shelf.
But things didn't go as planned.
There was a flash of light, and Alex found himself at the head of a group of renegade Space Marines.
Of course, he was deeply confused at first, but the mind of a transhuman soldier was no joke.
He could process and manage the flood of information without acting like a frightened child in front of his subordinates and brothers.
'Oh yes, Andrew… is on my left,'Atreus thought as his footsteps echoed in the corridor.
Andrew was an arrogant young Astartes who had replaced an old friend of Atreus's in his tactical squad before the war.
This was his first real battle as an official Iron Warrior, but Atreus judged his death inevitable.
Not a conclusion based on his irritating personality, but on cold logic.
A hypothesis that soon proved true.
Andrew stepped forward confidently, exposing his massive frame to the powerful lascannon at the end of the passageway.
In a deafening crash, the arm holding Andrew's shield was shattered first, followed immediately by his helmet and armor.
Atreus remembered countless times telling him to stay close to the team, adjust his shield, and not let gaps appear in the wall of steel, but Andrew simply thought he'd be fine without caution against a deadly enemy.
He had paid dearly for it.
Most Imperial Guard members had one or two flaws, but they were often veterans.
If a mortal survived 10 or 20 years in the Imperial Guard, they would become a war legend on Alex's Earth.
This is why Atreus remained cautious and employed a tactic inspired by Roman infantry.
The Iron Warrior shook his head, regretting to see a "brother" perish due to a lack of caution, but he quickly regained his analytical composure.
As Andrew's body fell, Atreus pulled the trigger; his bolter spat rounds through the breach in the shield wall.
Andrew's death had created a slight opening, as the enemy thought they had gained the upper hand.
A truth, but Atreus was no fool.
He possessed the body of an Iron Warriors veteran upon his reincarnation and the knowledge of a gamer who had spent hours on Call of Duty: Warzone.
He reacted swiftly and eliminated the yellow-armored enemy when they thought they could breach the gap in their defense.
"Close…" Not many words.
The Iron Warriors were forged by Perturabo for war, not for socializing.
This action by the Primarch aimed to create perfect warriors but mostly produced tools that followed orders without taking much initiative.
This is also why there are few iconic figures in this Space Marine legion, aside from Barabas Dantioch.
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