Editing M43 (section)

===Assault on Lesser Hadyrion===
'''4 617 789.M42'''
: Alvon was running as fast as he could. Not away from the battle but toward it. By the Imperial luck of the draw, his company, the 13th Hadryion Corvettes had been sent back to their original tithe system. It was not for R&R. In the distance he could see sickly pink lightning strikes stretching throughout the overcast hive. Chanting sometimes echoed off the metal walls. He was barely holding it together; he couldn’t imagine what his men were thinking. A massive explosion sounded hundreds of meters above him, higher up in the hive. The smoking wreckage of a Predator arced downward as a Thunderhawk roared over him. No sooner had the Thunderhawk’s engines dopplered away, a tortured hum pierced his ears. He had to stop and squeeze his eyes shut just to not pass out. He finally managed a painful peek back at his men. Two of his men had their hands on their knees. Rangle was puking her guts out. Thomps had completely passed out, while the rest of his squad was writhing around with their hands on their ears. He turned back toward the objective as the horrible sound ended. An ornamental gate had crumbled like rock and added itself to the rubble of the war-torn hive. A Noise Marine stepped over the desiccated gate and looked at him.


: “Get Thomps on his feet! The rest of you slugs, get to cover and start firing. Do not stay in cover for long. Repeat, do not stay in cover for long!” Alvon shouted orders to his squad as he dashed ahead several meters for the shelter of a small hab-building. The Noise Marine sauntered forward, blaring some abysmal dirge from its pack. It sighted one of the Guardsmen and fired its Sonic Blaster. Dinden had barely made it to his feet when an intense vibration hit him. He shuddered as his the inside of his skull resonated with the horrendous frequency. His head exploded and he sagged to the ground. The waves of sound, now partially visible swept over to another one of Alvon’s men, who had just a second ago, been firing his lasgun at the traitor Astartes. The Guardsman quickly disintegrated along with the chunk of hab-building he’d been hiding behind. The Noise Marine stopped firing and leaned back in an incoherent screech of triumph. The sound made Alvon tingle. Between shots of his lasgun, he was taking glances at his men. The one still alive seemed okay. Then he noticed Rangle get up from behind her cover and slowly begin to walk toward the Noise Marine.

	
: He stared incredulously at the Guardswoman as she passed him. Her half-lidded eyes and near-smile snapped him out of his reverie, “RANGLE! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” “It’s...just….so….pretty,” the woman slurred out, continuing to trudge toward the giant Astartes. Alvon racked his head, “Fuck fuck fuck….. Ulgran!” he shouted to a private. “Yes sir?!?” “PUT THAT BOLTER TO USE AND HIT THOSE VENTS ON THE PACK!” Alvon screamed his plan to the heavy weapons trooper. Several deep booms preceded the wet smacking of metal on harder metal. Several Bolter rounds exploded harmlessly on the deformed pauldrons of the Marine, but one managed to hit its mark and the speaker exploded. As the cackling died in a sputter and the normal sounds of battle returned, the Noise Marine finally snapped back to reality. It looked down at the now swaying Guardswoman. “RANGLE! GET THE FUCK BACK HERE! YOU WANNA DIE?” Alvon shouted now that the spell had been broken. She did not respond to his calls. She did respond to the Noise Marine when let out a gut wrenching bellow and pointed toward Alvon and his squad. She turned around making jerky movements more like a puppet than human and started firing her lasgun. She advanced a step and then her head exploded, showering the Noise Marine behind her in blood and bone.

	
: Alvon turned around to see his company’s Commissar standing in the middle of the street, Bolter smoking. Another squad was massing behind him as well. “MEN, IT IS OUR DUTY TO THE EMPEROR TO PURGE THIS HERETIC! FORWARD!” the Commissar rallied the fresh squad and the remainder of Alvon’s squad. A fury of lasgun bolts and explosive shells pelted the Noise Marine. Under such an assault, the Astartes dropped down to its knees, its armor and exposed skin smoking and smouldering. A second later it let loose a scream that sent a shiver of pleasure down the Guardsmen spines. No sooner it dropped completely to the ground and began to melt. The squads breathed an audible sigh of relief and moved to an intact hab-shelter to discuss their further actions.

	
: Inside, the current progress of the battle for Hive Siberni was laid out. The lower levels had been mostly cleared, with the exception of a particularly dug in force of cultist in a Mechanicum vault. The middle tiers were being assault by the Guard, which is where they were. And the upper levels and spires were barely being suppressed by air forces. After that was established, both Alvon and the Commissar agreed that they should advance southward and regroup with G Company to assault the temple on this level, not that Alvon actually had a say or anything. The two squads slogged out the door and their world went white.

	
: The hive was splashed in the light of several tremendous pink lightning bolts. A multitude of screams pierced the battle as they harmonized into a singular scream of agony. The air grew thin as a portion around the hive sucked in towards the top. It exploded outwards in another second. A huge spire that had once held the family that owned the forges of the hive crumbled and fell. In the center of thousands of dead bodies splayed out in lasting agony and pleasure, a singular figure stood, Fulgrim, the daemon prince of Slaanesh.

	
: As Fulgrim appeared in the materium, the group containing Alvon was overcome with an immense pressure, like they had just taken on ridiculously heavy packs. Their legs gave out under the psychic weight. One by one they blacked out, the only signs of life were their shallow breaths. Fulgrim had entered the fight.