he backed away from the corner, and walked over to his berzerkers that were desperate to find a new foe to grind down to nothing but meaty remnants. they all looked at him like he would magically bring forth a whole army of weaklings for them to fight, and Tritoni found it strangely amusing how such mindless killers could still think, even though, he had to admit, it was very basic thoughts.

he closed his eyes and he let the memories of the corridor fill his mind, the slaughter about to take place and, most importantly, the weapons that threatend to end the slaughter before it would even start. Tritoni decided it was not worth a headlong charge. of course, losses can be replaced, but theese were not easily replaceable ones around him, and he valued their efficiency, and wasting them by running into bullets were not going to work it out for him.

he simply started walking, his berzerkers tailing behind him eager to grip a foe by the throat but for now, under control and in the leash. he trailed alongside the barricaded corridor, looking for a way to flank it. and then he found a service hatch, which he broke and tossed aside so it clatterd along the floor. he bent down and watched into the tunnel, too small to fit himself or his berzerkers, but perhaps something more subtle could fit?

a smile spread across Tritonis lips as the plan began to form in his mind.

as his eyes were looking for any dangers, his body acted on instinct built on millenia of warfare, gruesome and against oponents that few ever had heard of, let alone lived to tell about. a mere lasgun was nothing compared to it, but luck had a way of irony over it. Tritoni had watched a champion rise to glory, defeated many powerful daemons, only to be killed by falling over and implaing himself on a spike on the ground that went right through his eyesocket. Tritoni was a tactician and strategist, and he wanted no mere lasbeam or bayonett to end his legacy.

his arms went through the crowd before him, each strike was calculated to bring maximum damage to the enemy while conserving as much energy as he was able to. his berzerkers were no where near his efficiency, one even picking up a militia man and throwing him on the ground until his spine broke. brutal, effective, but not at all efficient. the warrior took several hits from lasbeams, none of which penetrated his armor and when his toy had died, he grabbed a new one and kept slamming the new man into the ground.

as the battle, or slaughter maybe is a more fitting word, grind to a halt, all militia dead, wounded or simply knocked out, Tritoni simply walked on, while his berzerkers chopped up the bodies with their chainaxes, whirring and screams from not yet dead militia forces filled the corridor. Tritoni was left unmoved by the gruesome behaviour, having already seen it thousand times before. what concerned him was what was around the corner. as he quickly peeked out and back in, his eyes had trailed over the barricade ahead, taking note of all things there. the horrified guardsmen faces that showed of terror due to the screaming slaughter that was fruther down the corridor. what was most captivating about this barricade was probably the yellow pauldrons he noticed at some holes. the yellow fist that clenched air and punched upwards was a common sight on walls of the imperiums many thousand bastions. the Imperial Fists where here, and he had not know about them somehow.

aboard the turrets that protected the planet, there was a nervous calm settled. all had their stations, and the guns were in working order and aimed at the approaching enemy fleet. the range indicator let out a beep, and all stations begain the firing procedure, sending shells flying through space towards the rapidly closing ships. torpedoes went soaring out from their launch tubes, and on burning engines they roared towards the enemy alongside the shells, giving a impressive spectacle for Tritoni. but he would have this fight his way, not how the defenders wanted it to be. he turned around and left the bridge, heading for a room fruther down the corridor. when he entered it, the warband that was his to command roared their praises to Khorne and lifted their chain axes high in the air, many of them roarding to life creating a thunderous cacaphony of noises.

he smiled under his daemon visaged helmet, and he tured to the side, pressing a button, then joined his warriors on the dais they stood on, drenched as it was in blood and gore. humming from some unseen engine could be heard, and it increased until it peaked, letting out a high pitch shriek and the many thousand candles around the dais were blewn out, leaving the room in total darkness.

then they were suddenly aboard the stations ahead, and the frightened milita looked on the Khorne Berzerkers as they were cut in two before they even knew it had happend. Tritoni lead the charge, through corridors and hallways, massacaring the enemy humans, imperial loyalists that held on to their corpse Emperor and he loved every second of it. his berzerkers were next to him, and they spilled out all over the station, bloodlust feeding them energy to hack through all squads they found. little resistance was put up, and what little did, was quickly torn down again by the massive onrush of chainaxes and other melee weapons. the superior armor, genetics and blessings of Khorne all combined to give the berzerkers a decissive advantage. and the slaughter was a true honor to Khorne, who drank in all the blood he was offered this day.

walking through the giant ship, he was a force to be recognized. nobody, marine, mutant, human, or even daemons dared stand in his way. they all parted before his dark red armored form and bowed for their master warlord. he did not spare them a glance, eyes fixed on some unseen point which only he could see, his mouth silently whispering "blood for the blood god" in a automatic way, almost like it was recorded.

when he entered the brigde, it fell silent at first, not even machine men moved or made any noise. they all knew they were in the presence of a champion worthy of Khorne, and any mistake they made would give Khorne another skull.

slowly, work resumed, as the fear of lacking in his presence took control, and the buzzing chatter surfaced again, albeit slightly less noisy. he stared at the green and blue planet ahead, marking out its continents and oceans, with his mouth still wording "blood for the blood god".

"this will do, filled with skulls and blood for the throne, and where we will find more soldiers and rabble alike..." Tritonis mind wandered off into strategies and tactics he employed before in his life, and wondered which were to be used this time.

unlike most of his brethern, not to say all, Tritoni still possessed a strategists mind, and not just bloodthirst. and here, on this planet before him, he would test himself and his forces quality once more, fighting until either he died or the enemy did.

the lights were dim, and when the door opended, the room was briefly only illuminated by the hallway outside, before the lights in the roof begun to power up, bringing the room to light instead of darkness.

Tritoni stepped through the door and it shut behind him, muffling the sounds of thousands of feets outside to a mere dull background noise. he walked forward, naked apart from a loincloth, and he stopped in the middle of the room, within the circle. as soon as he stopped, servants ghosted forth from the shadows, each of them half machine, half man, and while each carried small things, togheter they would form the greatest of the great.

they latched on his skin, piece by piece, the millenia old armor and slowly, the suit was being built around him. he grasped his gauntlets and flexed his fingers in them, imagining bones under them being broken, snapped under the strength of his superhuman muscles, the suits own power, and lastly, the favor of his patron.

he grabbed his helment, and carried it under his arm to his weapon stand. Tritoni grabbed the long pole, and hefted the doubble bladed chainaxe from its stand. he lifted the weapon, freezing for a moments notice so he, once again, took in the power of the weapon and that which it served, and silently whispered "blood for the blood god", waking the weapon up and the daemon inside it, bound to its teeths, and it started glowing in his hand. Tritoni turned around, and walked calmly outside, whispering to himself "blood for the blood god" over and over while the chaos fleet approached the system ahead.

he grew more furious with each second. his entire life seem forgotten, and this beast was responsible for it all. he started swinging fast and cut in into the lictor. it screeched of pain, it fought back but was losing blood and was also dismembered. then he spun around, and threw himself into its face, and headbutted it.

and now his mind started panicking. the lictors head bashed in, its face obliterated from his headbash. it collapsed into a head on the ground, and all he felt was rage. he raised the sword, and started cutting it to pieces like it had done to so many before it. he slashed it and kept doing it until sun rose again from the nights darkness, and he witnessed nothing but a large patch of blood everywhere. it stained his face, and the trees, the bushes, the grass, his hands and...

now he stopped for a moment. he saw his hands stained with the blood of the beast. and the talons glowed in the sunlight and its reflection in the blood. and then he saw himself in it. and his once blu eyes were gone, he had changed so much he did not recognize himself. and then his mind was obliterated from the psychich birth of the daemon in the sword.

it threw its head up to the sky and howled its victory cry, and warped back into the alternative reality of the warp, and started feeding on what once was Heron. it fed upon his rage and his thrist for vengeance, battle and blood. it swallowed his every soul piece, and then it went on looking for further prey to corrupt, while Khorne sat on his throne and nodded approvingly.

the duel went on, and he parried each thrust, dodged every pounce, evaded and danced like it was not even close to a threat to him. it was a game to him now, he let his body flow through the battle, easily avoiding one of the most deadly enemies in the galaxy. and he was toying with it.

it finally bored him when the night was closing in, and the lictor almost spending all its energy on killing this prey. whatever it tried, he had avoided death, and so the lictor was enraged and attacked with such fury even a astartes would be dead, but this man, mere mortal man, was simply dancing around in a dance of death.

its talons cut forward again, but slowly and with little force behind the thrust, so he cut down on them. he skewerd the talons that his wife had been pierced by, and he sewerd its arms as well, thoose that had butchered his child... or was it children?

his mind started thinking back, and he realised something that disturbed him a lot. his wife was not there anymore, just a word in his hed he needed to avenge, nothing else remained. laugh, looks, smell... nothing, not even her name was left...

he stalked through the woods, saw the signs of the beasts travel. somehow he knew where it was heading, yet nothing logic could tell him the answer to. it was just instinct that kept him going, and heading the right way too, for further ahead, he heared a scream on the wind, and he quickend his pace.

further up ahead, he found the beast in a clearing, devouring a hunter or some wanderer maybe. whatever he was before, now he was simply meat for the beast who happily feasted on him. unaware of the predator stalking behind it. Heron watched its movements, and stood straight up after a while. walking into the clearing, he surprised the lictor which quickly spun around and shot its flesh hooks towards his heart in the same movement.

had he been himself, he would have been a dead man now. but as it became, his body spun to the left and hacked down, cutting off the fleshooks in mid air, and then he started to run towards the nightmare infront of him, bent on its death and nothing short of that. the lictor jumped into the air, and aimed a downwards stab toward him, one that he, again, dodged without difficulty. he was in control of the fight, but he did not feel in control of his body. he simply did, never thought.

he grabbed the sword by the hilt, felt its weight and lifted it up. it was of a extraordinary metal, not native to this world at least. it was signed with various glyphs and markings he could not make out. he just felt it was right and that this sword would be the bane of that monster beast. it had killed too many by now.

by instinct, he started walking, sword in hand, and passed through the village. he noticed the remains of the squad leader and some other man he could not recognize at all. did not matter anyway, they were all dead, he just knew they were, and he was still alive. he had more souls screaming for vengeance in his head now. his family. the people that had died before this predator. and now his squad...

it would pay dearly. with its life.

as he slowly began to recognize what he knew was pain, his mind registered the feelings around him. the wound in the back was gone, but the feeling was there, uncomfortable as he thought about it.

he pushed himself up from the ground, and realised he was actually alive. he was not in that nightmarish dead world realm, he was back here to the village. he looked up and saw the sword placed just infront of him and he tried to explain how the sword had gotten there, but then he gave up. he stood up, feeling inexplainable young and fresh considering he thought himself dead just a minute back almost. he stood resting against a wall and looked at the sword beneath him. it had runes along the blade and the shaft was a very ornate piece of craftmanship.

but how had it gotten there? it was not there when he had been downed, nor had anyone in the squad carried it. and what are the odds some random stranger with a sword like this would walk by and drop it off infront of Heron that was laying dead on the ground? questions raced through his mind, until he finally said enough. he would not understand how it got there, that just took too much thought process. what was important is that the sword was here and he could use it in his hunt. that beast was to be killed, because he doubted the squad had survived it. he would finnish what he was orderd to do as well as what he had promised his family. he would not let her say that he had failed him again. not another time...

he walked on a dead world, with blood running from his back wound, but he could not die from it. he had walked for days and still he had not died from hunger, thirst, blood loss, fatigue. he just kept walking across a world without purpose of the walk. he just hoped something would appear apart from the ash covered statues and plants.

when he walked into another settlement, wrecked from the flames, he heard someone walking across the street. he stopped, looking through the dust flying through the air and saw a man coming walking the opposite direction, towards him. the man carried a sword in both hands, like he was about to offer Heron it. then he stopped infront of Heron, put the sword down on the ground infront of him, and walked back. he did not say a word, neither did Heron. then he collapsed and hit his head on the sword, making him faint.

she was as beautiful as ever, altough he knew something was wrong by the way she moved. he wondered what had happend during the day and walked up behind her, hugging her and kissing her neck, whispering into her ear "something is wrong, tell me"

the answer was the worst she ever had given him.

"you died without avenging me and our children. you failed what you swore to complete."

he froze still, suddenly his mind confused. was she insane now? was he insane? what had he sworn? what had he failed? then a small light spread in his mind about what had happend. he lost all sanity he had when he realised he was dead, and he ran outside and saw the world burning all around him.

he then felt a sharp pain in the back and turned around, seeing his wife with madness in her face and a knife in her hand. or talon. he could not make clear what it was, then he realised he was not looking at his wife anymore. he saw the beast that had started his nightmare...

the Lictor started running, but Heron would not let it escape this time. he quickly followed it outside, turned on the spot and shot again but missed it as the murderer turned into a alley. he rushed after, knowing that the squad was trying to flank it as well and pen it in somewhere and then kill it. he ran as fast as he could, trying to keep pace with something vastly faster than him.

the lictor turned around a corner and found itself shot at again, but from another prey this time. it turned back into the alley from the main street, and ran back the trail it came from...

Heron rounded the corner, and in one fluid motion he flew down on the ground as the flesh hooks just barely missed him and hit the house behind him, at he returned the favor of attacking and pressed down the trigger and aimed at the Lictor just a few meters away. he struck it head on again, and it screeched once more, a sound more beautiful than anything Heron had ever heard. then it stabbed him in the back with his talons and he fainted from the shock.

the Lictor turned around, and proceeded to destroy the entire squad as well as the chimeras crew. nobody survived its rampage in the village before, and this "rescue" squad did neither.

as they entered the gatehouse, the squad found the gate keeper in two locations and still missed his arms. that radio had most likely detonated in a record fashion if that managed to kill the gate keeper. or there was some predator over here. nobody could tell where, but the air was thick of it. Heron looked around him, and saw chaos had been here as shards of pottery was scatterd over the ground, houses was damaged, doors were busted off the hinges, remains of people still to be seen sometimes. the squad started to split up looking for anyone still alive, but doubted that they would find anything alive.

anything apart from that fiend, Heron thought for himself, as he looked inside a small house where debris was everywhere on the floor. he ran his illuminator light around and found nothing to notice so he turned around and then stopped. he slowly turned back and looked inside again, and somehow, he knew he stared into a game of death and life. the hunt was on.

"its here!!" he screamed as he raised his hellgun up and shot straight inside the room and struck the Lictor on its lower body, and it screeched, stabbed its talons forward but hitting the wall to the side of Heron, then backed out of the house, and into the alley behind it.

"perimiter secured, nothing here. carrier 2 is providing overwatch and coverfire if things get out of hand. formation on me, we are checking this out as if bullets were already flying in the air. knife sharp and alert people, i doubt you will find all civies locked inside one building saying they are trying to fix the radio. so eyes up, ears open and mouths the opposite. lets move."

Heron walked alongside his squad, hellgun raised and trailing for targets. he rememberd he signed up the day after, despite not even having a burial for his family that had been slain by it. he was desperate for revenge, he needed to start working towards it fast. he had signed up at once, and had burried his family when he got back from that ordeal. he had stood there for so long, watching the makeshift tombs he had made. and when he turned his face, he saw it. still standing over there in the forrest, blood from his family dripping from its giant talons. he turned and faced it, and knew it could easily kill him. but this was not a brute beast Heron had thought. it somehow was smarter than that, in a feral but intelligent way. it somehow knew he would kill it if it came back at him. and it had turned and walked away, and Heron had woved that day that he could not find the peaceful man inside him again until that thing was dead. very dead.