"You can leave this place. It will soon become unsafe."
"What about you?"
"We need to keep holding this place and wait for reinforcements. Sacrifice is our duty."
It was also their chance at redemption.
The White Temple were a loyal Astartes Chapter that valued their promises.
They wore white Power Armor that embodied pure faith, with shoulder plates black as unwavering will. They wielded promises as blades and oaths as artillery, engraving honor into their genes and branding commitment upon their loyalty. Upon their black shoulder plates was emblazoned the Chapter's mission.
Once, in order to fulfill a promise to the people of a world, the White Temple had guarded that world for three thousand years. Even without reinforcements, even knowing they would be abandoned, even knowing the enemy could not be defeated, they had still refused to break their promise.
However.
The voice coming through the communicator interrupted his memories.
"Sergeant Zephram, they're here."
"They're here." Zephram rose, suppressing every emotion. He paused for only a second, cast one deep look at the people behind him, then left.
No matter what these people chose.
It would not affect their decision.
This time.
The Emperor had given them a chance to redeem their souls.
This time.
They had to use sacrifice to preserve the Chapter's honor.
Zephram's gaze was unwavering.
"Lofi, we need to hold this place."
"This is our promise to The Emperor, and our promise to the humans of this world."
The demi-humans naturally understood who Zephram meant by "they."
For the past few months, the enemy had continually drained their force field. After every depletion, it took a long time to restart it according to the operational sequence left behind by their ancestors.
After centuries of attrition and the war of the past half year, their