Kayvan felt no sadness, only pride. They had died gloriously, fighting for the Emperor—a death worth honoring. He knew his turn would come soon. For the Raven Guard, there was no retreat. If victory was impossible, then death was their only fate.
Suddenly, the ground trembled violently. In the distance, a towering figure emerged from the enemy ranks, an immense machine that radiated despair. Kayvan's heart sank. He recognized it immediately. The Titan. Once the most fearsome weapon of the Empire, it had become a symbol of betrayal. The Emperor's Hammer, now turned against his loyal soldiers.
Kayvan sighed deeply. "Damn it. It's a Titan!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Fall back! Ravens, retreat and reform the line a hundred meters back! Little Alen, call for heavy weapon support! Protect the Emperor at all costs! May the Emperor bless us!"
His brothers echoed his cry, "May the Emperor bless us!" Their voices carried determination, but the Titan's shadow loomed ever closer.
The Titan was a monstrosity. Standing well over 14 meters tall, its hunchbacked frame moved like an ancient, mechanical giant. Its weapons—massive Vulcan bolters—jutted from its shoulders, each barrel larger than the average soldier. As it advanced, its arsenal unleashed a storm of firepower that tore through everything in its path.
The ground erupted beneath the relentless barrage. Solid earth rippled like water under the Titan's devastating assault. Chariots, artillery, and bunkers were obliterated, flung into the air like discarded toys. The defense line disintegrated in moments, reduced to smoldering ruins.
The Titan was a relic from humanity's golden age, the pinnacle of military engineering. Now, it was the harbinger of despair. Its towering frame seemed invincible, its firepower unstoppable. It crushed all resistance beneath its mechanical feet and rained death from above with ruthless efficiency.
Kayvan Shrike made his decision in an instant. "For the Emperor!" he roared, dragging his claws as he charged at the towering Titan.
At that moment, the deep thuds of mortars echoed across the battlefield. Kayvan's call had worked; the artillery in the rear had finally taken notice of the massive Titan. Shells shrieked through the air, crashing into the mechanical colossus. Explosions erupted, filling the sky with fire and thunder. But the devastation was absorbed by an invisible barrier surrounding the Titan—a void shield.
"Damn it, it's a void shield! Keep firing—drain its energy!" someone shouted over the comms. Titans, relics of humanity's golden age, weren't just weapons; they were fortresses on legs. With layers of heavy armor and a void shield—the kind of advanced energy barrier usually reserved for Imperial Navy warships—Titans were nearly invincible. For ground forces, encountering one was akin to facing a walking nightmare.
Despite the barrage, the Titan remained unscathed. The artillery crews, unwilling to waste all their munitions in one place, began shifting their aim beyond the massive machine, leaving it unharmed.
But Kayvan didn't stop. He dashed forward at full speed, leaping onto an enemy soldier who tried to block his path. With the sheer power of his Terminator armor and his enhanced body, Kayvan drove the man's head into his chest with a single stomp. Using the momentum, he pushed off the mangled body, soaring higher. This time, he reached the Titan's waist.
Seizing the opportunity, Kayvan jammed his Raven's Talons into the Titan's armor, clinging to it like a steel insect on a giant.
The enemy commander's voice blared angrily through the comms, and within seconds, all nearby guns turned their attention to Kayvan. A hailstorm of explosive rounds and energy beams rained down, the sky lit with destructive power. "Lord Shrike, watch out!" Selena's panicked voice crackled over the channel.
Yet Kayvan remained calm. The Titan's own void shield flared to life, blocking the incoming fire. It was almost ironic—the shield meant to protect the Titan was now shielding him instead.
"It's the void shield," Alen murmured, watching the scene in disbelief. For a moment, he'd thought his captain was doomed, but then it hit him. Of course, the void shield didn't distinguish between friend or foe. It simply repelled anything that threatened the Titan.
Kayvan kept climbing, undeterred. His Raven's Talons flashed faintly with energy as he drove them into the armor, pulling himself upward, one hand at a time. Step by step, he scaled the giant machine. He reached the Titan's hunched head, where its control cabin was housed.
With ease, Kayvan cut into the armor, peeling back the control cabin's shell like the rind of a fruit. Inside, three terrified faces stared back at him. "H-how is this possible?!" the enemy stammered, his voice trembling.
Kayvan didn't give him a chance to say more. He lunged into the cabin, his claws flashing. In an instant, the occupants were reduced to mangled remains.
From her position on the ground, Selena watched in stunned silence as the massive Titan froze in place. "It stopped… it's down!" she gasped.
Without its pilot, the Titan became a lifeless hulk—a monument to its former power. The battlefield erupted with cheers. Kayvan's single-handed takedown of the Titan sent a wave of hope and exhilaration through the ranks. But the celebration was short-lived. The ground trembled. A low, ominous rumble grew louder with every passing second.
Emerging from the smoke on the horizon were more Titans, their colossal forms blotting out the sky. They advanced in a slow, relentless line, each step shaking the earth like a drumbeat of despair. "One, two… eleven, twelve… there are too many," Alen whispered, his voice trembling. "This… this is impossible. We can't stop them."
Kayvan stood on the shoulder of the Titan he had just killed, gazing silently at the approaching army. He couldn't blame Alen for being scared. The young man had been his apprentice for five years, and Kayvan knew him well. Alen was no coward. He had the heart of a warrior, determined and unyielding. But even the bravest could falter in the face of such overwhelming odds.
Victory was no longer possible. All that remained was the chance for an honorable death. Kayvan sighed, bracing himself for what was to come. Before he could act, a voice cut through the battlefield like a divine proclamation. "Warriors, you have fought valiantly. I have seen your courage, your strength. On behalf of the Emperor, I thank you. You have done enough. Now, step back. Leave the rest to me."
The voice came from the outer wall, where the massive Gate stood. A figure stepped forward, noble and radiant, like a god descending from the heavens. Every soldier on the battlefield knew who it was. Sanguinius, the angelic primarch, stood tall, his presence alone igniting hope in their hearts.
Sanguinius stood at the center of the battlefield like a radiant beacon, his golden armor gleaming even in the shadows cast by the chaos around him. Behind him, a pair of immaculate white wings spread wide, shimmering with an otherworldly glow. He gripped a massive sword, its edge reflecting the light of the blood-red skies, and stood proudly before the colossal Satan's Gate. His chin lifted slightly as he gazed at the overwhelming horde of enemies, his expression calm yet disdainful. It wasn't arrogance—it was the quiet confidence of a warrior who knew his enemies were unworthy. These were oath-breakers and traitors, beings who had abandoned their beliefs. To Sanguinius, they deserved no respect.