Editing MidHammer 40,000 (section)

==The Emperor's Fury==
“The Emperor’s Fury? Aye, I’ve seen him fight.
Why are you staring at me like that? Close your mouth, boy, or your jaw’s gonna fall off. ‘Awesome’? Son, it was terrifying.

Sure, he might not seem that scary - imposing, certainly, he’s one of the Emperor’s children, after all - but scary? Nah, surely not, he’s the Emperor’s foremost diplomat. He hardly ever deals with combat on a personal level, rarely even duels. Surely he can’t be that scary?
Listen up, boy, you’ve probably heard the rumours that that thrice-damned arch-traitor knocked something wrong in the Angel of Baal, hence his avoidance of combat. Lemme tell ya, that’s a bigger load of groxshit than you’d find in an agri-world fertilizer ship.

It was on Coronus V, Garguan sector, some ten, twenty years ago. I was still just PDF back then, stationed in the capital hive. We’d been dealing with an upsurge in mutant births, rogue psyker activities, cult activity, the whole package.The Planetary Governor, that traitorous fuck, was acting a bit miffy too. Seemed intent on seccession, and the Imperium would have none of that. So, over came Sanguinius, t’see if he could straighten things out.

Now, if I’d tell ya things went to the Warp in a handbasket, I’d be underestimating to the point of groxshitting you. I was stationed near the Governatorial Palace at the time, and saw the Emperor’s Fury himself enter to meet with the Governor. I could see why they call him the Angel; I’m still not convinced he ain’t got an actual halo around his face. Face like an angel, too.

Anyhow, so the moment he enters, a series of explosions rock the palace and the Hive as a whole. Within a minute, our positions are stormed by hordes of mutants and freakish zealots, barreling down at us with hardly more than cobbled-together junk as armor and rusty knives for weapons. They weren’t the problem. The problem was that pretty much every trooper in there with me, save for my own squad, the glorious bastards, made to shoot at us, screaming about offering our skulls to the Blood God.

Now, we were damn lucky that the Angel of Baal had bought a honour guard, or I wouldn’t be sitting here. Jervis was down, Petula had a slug in his shoulder and I was running out of ammo, and these freaks have almost bashed down the gates.
So we’re sitting there, thankfully having cleared the traitors out of our position, but with a horde of mutants banging at the door, praying to the Emperor for salvation - what? Yeah, yeah, I know, He didn’t want to be prayed to, but trust me, you’d do the same if you saw some harlot with a face that look like it had melted promising to do unmentionable things to your spleen. Now stop interrupting me.

Okay, so, the door gives way, Yerrin goes down to some freak with four-and-a-half arms - yeah, I don’t know how that worked either - and we’re sure we’ve faced the end. Thankfully, it seemed the Emperor listened to my prayers, and the moment I’m jumped by one of those freaks, its chest explodes in a shower of gore. It wasn’t pleasant, but I’m sure it was preferable to the alternative. In storm the red-armoured sons of Sanguinius, wreaking absolute fucking havoc on the enemy. Within ten seconds, every last mutant in that room had died.

The Space Marines order us to follow them - not sure in what way we could help Astartes except draw fire away from them, but I’m not going to question a command by one of the Blood Angels. So, we grab our gear and follow them, fighting through a literal sea of mutants to get back to the palace - well, in fairness, they did most of the fighting, we just tagged along in the corridor of corpses they created.

Anyhow, we’re almost at the front door of the Governor’s place, and we see a dark, giant form crashing through one of the stained glass windows at the fifteenth floor. Turns out the Governor tried to summon Daemons to help fight the Son of the Emperor, but fucked up somewhere along the line and got possessed by one of them instead. I think they called it a Bloodthirster or something. I can’t quite recall after all those bottles of amasec I had after that event.
Anyhow, after the Daemon, the Angel of Baal jumps out and starts punching the shit out of that abomination in mid-air. They crashed into the ground together, right in front of us. That Daemon never stood a fucking chance.

After punching it until its face stopped resembling a face, the Bloodthirster vanished in a puff of sulphur, and Sanguinius looks up. I still think I’m damned for him looking me directly into my eyes. There was something angelic about him still, but not the type of angel that exemplifies kindness anymore. This was the kind of angel that storms out of the heavens with a giant flaming sword to fuck you up in all sorts of ways. His eyes… oh Emperor, his eyes. Hand me that bottle of amasec, will you? Yes, I know it’s my fifth. I’m your superior, son, so just shut the fuck up and give me the alcohol.

Ah, that’s better. Where was I? Oh, right. So the Emperor’s Fury looks up at us, snarling for some reason. I looked at his Marines for guidance, and what I saw almost scared me more than Sanguinius himself. In all my years of service, I’ve seen Astartes on more occasions than many in the Guard, but this is the only time I’ve seen one afraid.

Never thought I’d say it, but I thanked the Emperor when a right proper army of heretics showed up and began to shoot at the Angel of Baal. He turned around to face them and charged. What he did… wasn’t pretty. The streets were crammed with heretics, but he just butchered them all in seconds. He waded into the city, out of sight. He pretty much single-handedly executed every traitor in the Hive that day.

I’ve seen The Emperor’s Fury fight, and let me tell you, son, he’s got that name for a reason”.

[[Category:Homebrew Settings]][[Category:Warhammer 40,000]]
[[Category:Warhammer Homebrew]]