In the early morning fog of the world Redna a somewhat burning drop ship slid from the sky, it speed slowing and its belly rising upwards as it lost altitude. Anti-air shells exploded around the drop ship as the skilled pilot dodged left and right. The drop ship was currently approaching a landing strip segment of a spire, its belly being exposed. With a massive crack AA fire increased as the ship got closer to the landing strip, the cries of soldiers dying and the skittering of Tyranid-infested humans reverberating from the city all over the place.
Quickly the drop ship got close to the landing strip, the belly of the drop ship scraping across the expansive runway as the fuselage of said ship rocked... An AA shell hit the cockpit of the ship as the belly scraped jarringly across the starkly dark landing strip. The cockpit tore open as the pilot was flung through the air, his head tumbling away from the rest of his body.
The ship continued to slide across the landing strip until it suddenly impacted the exterior of the spire's entry way. Fire began to billow from the ship as multiple sisters of battle fell out of the inner workings, what remained of them... In the distance, Valkyrie gunships struck at distant enemies and large towers and spires.
...
(Sister Superior's Perspective)
Laying face down against the hard material of the landing strip I dazedly looked around, my vision swirling ever so slightly from the crash I had just survived. My limbs were numb whilst simultaneously painful as a massive strain of pain radiated from my left wrist, the bones in my hand feeling broken. The pain brought a clarity unexpected and made my vision stabilize as my adrenaline kicked in. Only in past campaigns had i experienced this flurry of energy and it was exhilarating. Despite the pain I pushed myself upwards with both arms as my armour whirred and buzzed in mechanical effort, supporting my movements.
To my left I could hear the strained movements of my sister's armours as soon following was the distant sound of Basilisk artillery firing. The sound drew my attention for a split second as i felt the hands of someone go under my arms and help me upwards. Now standing, I could see twenty of my battle sister, including my personal squad. Some were standing and maintaining a perimeter as the less experienced aided those of us that could stand. Five sisters had died in the crash as the explosion from the Anti-air fire had taken them out alongside the drop ship. Saying a small prayer to the Emperor I touched the symbol of the ecclesiarchy in the centre of my most holy of armour.
Another volley of Basilisk artillery fired, the air quaking and shivering in sheer energy as the distant sound of sundering firepower concaved numerous buildings. The sisters around me, despite their steadfastness, couldn't help but look over the hive, its countless towers and buildings now laying in rubble, on fire or in the process of being fought over.
Gathering myself and ignoring the apocalyptic scale of the combat before me, the sights of which i have seen in past campaigns, I turned and gestured with my right hand to the sister who held my banner. With instant recognition the sister handed over our order's banner, herald if you will, my left hand forced to grasp it as my power armour tightened around the banner... It was as if the machine spirit within and the Emperor himself wished for me to still bear the burden of leading this company in his name.
"Sisters! We shall march to the Hive Spire, do not suffer the heretic or Xeno to live!" They all touched their ecclesiastical symbols on their armour, dropping their heads slightly in acceptance. In the next moments i began to walk towards the spire entrance as the sound of flamer's alighting and igniting resounded behind me, followed by the distinct echoes of bolters being chambered.
...
(Emelia's Perspective)
Their ride had been rough and very violent but they had made it none the less. I honestly wanted to save the sisters who had died but I could sense an immense presence wrap around them and ferry their souls towards the warp, the Emperor's Presence making me hesitant to interfere.
'Hmmm, maybe he has a soft spot for these women...? Good, it means that by aiding them I could have some small amount of leverage.'
My thoughts intertwined with the idea of diplomacy but also the complications of the futures that had been presented to me. I was still uncertain whether or not I should aid the sisters more thoroughly, on one hand it could gain brownie points with the Emperor, on the other it was hard to say that I could keep our secrets and not expose ourselves fully to the other factions/gods. My brows furrowed, unintentionally, my domains were not liking the hesitance and were calling on me for some actions, for me to do something. I was unsure, but i knew that I'd have to do something, soon, otherwise my own powers would potentially do something drastic based on my subconscious thoughts. Powers being alive is an issue, one i was not suited to and it apparently made my powers all that much more difficult to contain and control.
'Choices...'
...
(Somewhere in the Warp)
"AHHHHHH! Curse that impudent fool! Guilliman! I swear to curse you and bury you in the very essence of time!" Magnus the Red growled as his massive devilish horned figure struck down at a table in front of him, the very existence of the table ceasing but renewing in quick succession as the remnants of his legion watched in un-emotiveness. Sand danced around his hand as the very surroundings emulated his rage and power, turning into sand... Or was it always sand?
"Masterrr? What is your command?" Stepping forwards was a bright gold and blue armour space marine, chaos Spacemarine, of the Thousand Suns chapter. In one of his hands was a large staff of vibrant colour, his armour matching its Ancient Egyptian colourings and style. His voice was sickly sweet but purring almost like a kitten as Magnus looked at his legion member, some small solace entering his face before becoming clouded by anger and dedication.
"You are to cause chaos amongst the Ultima Segmentum, cause as many hassles and issues as you can. Preferably, blame it on other species and try to destabilize the borders of that traitor emperor's Imperium." The Thousand sun Spacemarine bowed before turning and, much like a drone, robotically moved away as his fellow marines followed after him.
"Blasted machinations of my traitorous father...!" His large pointed teeth ground against each other, his eyes flaring with the cyan blue colour of Tzeentch's power. The 'space' around him murmured with the chaotic amalgam of various maddened voices and the cries of despair from those that attempted to change their fates and futures. An undertone to the entire environment was the subtle cackling of a seemingly epic but small proportion, a sound unheard by Magnus.
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