Editing Codex - Angry Custodes (section)

=The Great Fuckening=
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'''Fluff:'''
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Custodes are not, by their design, disposed to being angry, having being designed and built by the emperor (from his own dna) to be the greatest soldiers and bodyguards in existence, beaten only by the emperors own offspring, the Primarchs. And for the past 10,000 years (apart from going a bit insane) the Custodes have been silently training, guarding, watching, and oiling up their naked forms and being generally fabulous. 

This however, finally changed with the return of Roboute Guilliman, and the forming of his Indominous crusade to retake the galaxy. With his new position as ruler of the galaxy (with all his brothers being dead, missing or demons, and daddy being mostly dead as well) Guilliman recruited the Custodes into his crusade across the galaxy, a galaxy which was not prepared for the golden might of the emperors finest. The state of the galaxy and the rise of chaos did not make the custodes angry however, this is what they had been made for, even if they were being ordered around by Roboute.

No, what began their descent into complete and utter, balls kicking, skittle RGAE, was when they met the Angry Marines. At first things went smoothly, the custodes admired the Angry marines for their righteous fury and their ability to kick anything in the balls even if it didn’t have genitalia, while the Angry Marines (although seeing the Custodes as a little stuck up having not done anything for the past 10,000 years) loved the fact that the custodes guns were actually swords and spears, allowing them to “FUCK THOSE CHAOS FAGGOTS UP FROM A DISTANCE WITHOUT BECOMING A BUNCH OF PANSY FUCKING BLUEBERRIES!!!”

The Custodes even grew to admire and respect the Angry Marines so much that they bestowed the greatest honour the Custodes possess, which was to invite the Angry Marines chapter Master, Temperus Maximus, to Terra to the inner sanctum of the imperial palace, an honour Maximimus replied to with “ABOUT FUCKING TIME!!!” Once inside the imperial palace (after the Angry Marines had completely depleted Terra’s supply of skittles and training servitors) Maximus was led past the two titans which guarded the entrance to the throne room, to see the emperor. “Chapter Master Temperus Maximus,” said the leader of the ten custodes who had escorted Temperus “before you sits the guardian of our species and the greatest of us all, the Emperor of Mankind,” and in unison, the custodes bowed towards the skeletal figure on the golden throne.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?!!!” Asked the chapter master in a polite, reverential tone which was still loud enough to shatter glass at thirty paces. The ten custodes gave each other uncharacteristic nervous glances. “He’s sitting right before you chapter Master on the golden throne,” another replied. “BUT HE’S A FUCKING SKELETON?!!!” Maximus replied in a slightly louder, conversational tone which blew the circuits of two nearby servitors. “Well you see,” started one custodian, his ears still ringing “the Emperor was gravely wounded during his fight against Horus ten thousand years ago, and ever since he has been kept alive by the golden throne guiding us through his might and the astronomicon.”

Stunned, Maximus looked up at the emaciated and skeletal figure on the throne, and back to the ten custodes, then back to the emperor. For a minute, silence reigned in the throne room, broken only by the sound of the two broken servitors being dragged from the room. Then, a slow, steady wheezing began to emanate from Maximus, a sound which the custodes, even with their genetically enhanced hearing, couldn’t initially place, until Maximus fell to his knees and grasped his face in his hands.

He was crying.

The sight of one of the angriest men in existence, a man who could shout a mountain into rubble and had ridden a crash landing battle barge into a great unclean one, crying on his knees before the man he had spent his life fighting and cursing in the name of, only to find out that that man couldn’t even swear, let alone fight, was the large adamantium, baseball bat, which obliterated the camels back.

In unison, the ten custodians took in a deep breath and began to scream “FFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU...”. The scream was then channeled through the golden throne into the entire galaxy and immaterium, allowing it to be felt by all life forms and some rocks. In the eye of terror, Abbadon’s arms fell off, to which he remarked “ow no not again.” On Macrag, Guilliman and his favoured generals simultaneously pissed themselves in fear, while in his brass citadel, Khorne got an uncomfortable boner, which surprised even him as he didn’t even have a penis.

The continued battle cry revived Maximus from his tears and despair, and he too stood up and took up the cry, followed by every custodian and angry marine in the galaxy, until, in the deepest, darkest depths of the webway, onto a pyramid of dead pointy eared faggots, the Angry Marines Primarch, Rachnus Rageous, raised his adamantium cigar high above his head, and added his voice to the call, shaking the very fabric of reality itself with its fury.

This continued for several minutes, until even the lungs of the Custodes were spent, upon which the ten custodians and Maximus Rageous simultaneously turned to the golden throne, raised their middle fingers high in the air and after a deep, collective breath screamed: 

“ALWAYS ANGRY!!! ALL THE TIME!!!”

Later, one of the few surviving psykers in the imperial palace (found cowering in a cupboard with a bucket on their head) said that the psychic light of the golden throne had, but for a brief moment, responded in kind, by forming itself into a gigantic, golden middle finger, and then a thumbs up.

Maximus and the ten Custodes then kicked down the towering, adamantium doors to the throne room and charged back the way they had come, followed by the two titans which had been flanking the door, their machine spirits forever corrupted by the custodes righteous fury, while fellow custodian who had decided “FUCK IT!!!” flooded in from side passages to join the Angry procession from the palace. Deep within the palaces armouries, ancient dreadnoughts violently ripped into consciousness by the war cry, broke loose from their bays and began to claw their way to the surface, erupting through the palaces once pristine walls with the once silent Sisters of Silence, now boiling with a galaxys worth of hate, following close on their colossal heels.

The screaming, red, yellow and gold mob swarmed out of the palace proper, commencing the largest fight Terra had seen since its all to recent demonic invasion. Aghast at the damage that was being done, the high lords of terra called upon the imperial fists and the rest of the adeptus custodes to bring the riot to a halt, but when a messenger was sent to the imperial fists barracks it was found to be ransacked, and it’s marines stuck to the walls and ceiling with adamantium duct tape. The rest of the custodes, those who had not gone berserk, simply refused to fight their brethren, for they had felt their anguish, sorrow and rage, and could not honestly stand before the now Angry Custodes.

And so, the army of Angry Custodians, Sisters of REAG and Angry Marines ran rampant, fighting anything that could put up a decent fight, raiding the planets skittles stockpiles and dawbing every surface with the unmistake red, angry face. This continued for almost an entire week until the mob finally managed to find their ways onto ships in orbit, opening their abuse up to an entire galaxy.</div>
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