Initiation: Difference between revisions

From 2d4chan
Jump to navigation Jump to search
No edit summary
1d4chan>The Forgefather
No edit summary
Line 1: Line 1:
 
{{Story}}
"It's a beautiful thing, isn't it?" The marine turned the blossom over, surprisingly gentle despite his armored hand. The boy could only nod. Beaten, exhausted, and nursing a broken arm, he had clambered tooth and claw to victory and was the first victor--possibly the only one--this year.
"It's a beautiful thing, isn't it?" The marine turned the blossom over, surprisingly gentle despite his armored hand. The boy could only nod. Beaten, exhausted, and nursing a broken arm, he had clambered tooth and claw to victory and was the first victor--possibly the only one--this year.


Line 15: Line 15:


"Understand," the Nightmare said through the vox, his helmet impassive as stone, "That you could no longer be part of this beautiful world. Understand that you, like this flower, were pulled from your home, and could no longer grow. Understand," he finished, "that you have given your share of this life to protect the whole. This is your sacrifice. Bear it with pride... brother."
"Understand," the Nightmare said through the vox, his helmet impassive as stone, "That you could no longer be part of this beautiful world. Understand that you, like this flower, were pulled from your home, and could no longer grow. Understand," he finished, "that you have given your share of this life to protect the whole. This is your sacrifice. Bear it with pride... brother."
[[Category: Warhammer 40,000]]

Revision as of 20:06, 27 January 2016

The following article is a /tg/ related story or fanfic. Should you continue, expect to find tl;dr and an occasional amount of awesome.

"It's a beautiful thing, isn't it?" The marine turned the blossom over, surprisingly gentle despite his armored hand. The boy could only nod. Beaten, exhausted, and nursing a broken arm, he had clambered tooth and claw to victory and was the first victor--possibly the only one--this year.

"Like this world. Bright. Beautiful. Something worth fighting for." The aspirant agreed.

The massive battle-brother looked at the flower in his massive hand.

He clenched.

For a moment the shock numbed him. Then, with a wail, began to hammer the marine's leg in tearful fury.

The astartes gazed down on the boy. He couldn't be more than twelve. Let him have this, he decided. It will be his last outburst.

Finally, pain racking the child's form, his blows relented and he sank to the ground, still clutching feebly at the marine's kneeplate.

"Understand," the Nightmare said through the vox, his helmet impassive as stone, "That you could no longer be part of this beautiful world. Understand that you, like this flower, were pulled from your home, and could no longer grow. Understand," he finished, "that you have given your share of this life to protect the whole. This is your sacrifice. Bear it with pride... brother."