The winds of Chogoris could not extinguish the spreading flames of war after all.
Evan hated seeing his own world become like this, transformed into a vast mass of cold steel.
I can suffer, fight for a thousand years amid a jungle of steel, and bleed dry beneath the roar of artillery, but my people cannot.
Atris was the example of what not to do. Langjuxu was his last line in the sand. At the very least, no humans lived here.
While several Imperial Fists and Iron Hands warriors studied how they would breach this place as attackers, the Beiwei Army's dispersed security detail had already taken full control of Evan's personal transport ship.
Interestingly, the White Scars Sons in the Beiwei Army had gone so long without a fight that "public resentment was boiling over." Now warriors carrying other gene-seeds had joined this guard as well. Under William's direction, warriors from both the Imperial Fists and the Luna Wolves had entered its ranks.
Some simply considered guarding Evan an honor. Others intended to "experience" Tai Chi Khan Swordsmanship up close.
At present, for example, the guards closest to Evan were still White Scars Sons, who could sprint flat out when chasing after him, while those farther away represented all sorts of gene-seed lineages.
The assignment should have been easy. They were coming home, after all. The place where Kazhaniv had received his blessing could certainly count as a Chapter's holy site. Yet the appearance of an Adeptus Custodes warrior inevitably put everyone on edge.
The warriors stood ramrod straight and strained to raise their heads. The only remotely decorative features on the Crimson Tide's power armor were its adamantium eyelids, shaped as closely as possible to the Aquila's spread wings. Being hideously ugly did not diminish loyalty.
Though