@DeranVendar

In the moments leading up to the crashing of the tumbling machine god, Dyzek would find himself locked in a bitter combat against the being who had slain his friend. Lightning claws would sizzle, their energized fields burning away at the putrid pus and other rancid liquids that came freely with every parting of flesh on the Plague Marine, as their wielder attempted to carve up foe. However, just as he felt the alerts ping on his helm from the maw of Orghast's guts biting into his leg, another shout would be heard over the vox, foretelling another withrdrawl. Dyzek would grit his teeth, yet not have time to begin making the order to pull back, as a shadow came upon them both, mutual foes turning their eyes skyward. The corpse of the titan would be coming down, and to Dyzek's perceptions, time seemed to slow, his hearts beating furiously in his chest as his body raced to react. Bringing up a foot, the swift speed of Dyzek guided now by instinct and years of training, Dyzek would brace against the Plague Marine, before giving a heave. The sounds of flesh and muscle tearing would be heard, as Dyzek pulled his leg and claws free from the rotted walking carcass that was Orghast, sending him leaping through the air, towards the edge of the wall. Reaching out with his hands, Dyzek would give a kick of his Jump pack, to clear the barricades and enter into free fall down through the air, just as the titan made it's first impact. Dyzek's heart taking but three beats in this span of time.

In a sound akin to a hammer shattering stone, only a thousand times over magnified, Dyzek would hear the structure behind him breaking under the weight of the war machine. Spreading out his arms to control his descent, he'd begin to plot a flight path to take him down towards the next defensive point, when suddenly something crashed into him, sending him spinning. The grip of Orghast would be upon his jump pack, the weight of two fully armoured astartes ruining the controlled drop into a free fall, as Dyzek tried to strike the man behind him. Hearing the rasping laughter of the marine, as all around him the booming echo of crumbling bastion thundered, Dyzek would have to do something drastic, as he felt a rotted, powerful grip wrap around his helm. Releasing the catch on his helmet, as a hiss would sound out, Dyzek would also free himself of his jump pack, leaving the plague champion to crush the vacant armour in grip, as the Blackshield escaped. Yet, even now, Dyzek was not satisfied, as he'd turn mid fall, bringing up a taloned hand, before unleashing a torrent of fire through the storm of falling stone, to fully engulf Orghast and his lost equipment. All this occurring in the span of moments, Dyzek would turn into the fall, bringing up hands to shelter his head, as the rubble and ruined debris would full engulf him, and his plummet would be complete.

His vision would clear, and immediately, he'd know he was buried, body surrounded by an impromptu tomb that he had no doubt held many of his brothers. With a heave, Dyzek would find that claws cut through the debris as easily as they did flesh, as the Blackshield would pull himself up towards the surface, his augmented vision guiding him. Breaching up from the depths, Dyzek would quickly bring up his weapons, knowing even now that the enemy would be rushing the hole in their defenses. Seeing that he'd be some distance from the bulk of the rubble, he'd figure his jump had indeed carried him somewhat back towards the next defensive point, and thus out of the immediate grips of their foe. Letting loose a sigh, Dyzek fully emerged from the stone and dust, his mind rushing, processing the potential losses they'd endured, before pushing those thoughts aside. He had a task to achieve now, and that was to rendezvous with their next hold out point. With his helmet gone, and his jump pack lost with it, he'd need to start running if he was to make it before the inevitable reaction came from the defenders.

As he'd begin to set off rushing for the next line, Dyzek would nurse the hurt in his heart. Idomeneus was gone, his gene seed lost, and with him perhaps the remainder of Seventh Squad. He wasn't sure how Squad Herchel had faired, but perhaps the luck of Akar's soldiers had finally run dry, and more losses would be accounted for. However, while he still drew breath, he would not simply give into despair, for though Seventh might be gone, that which it stood for still endured.​

Kremnar Eranite watched as the point of the power scythe clashed against the side of the wall. The plague marine had done the impossible, and somehow evaded the weapon commandeered from his own legion. However, this placed him right in the path of his enemy, and the loyalist took advantage by delivering a swift kick to the disease ridden chest of the enemy, sending him up and over the wall. Pausing for a moment to catch his breath, the sternguard veteran was about to locate and engage the next target when a shadow fell over him. He looked up, expecting to see either a storm of monsters with wings or even the traitor Warmaster's fleet blocking out the sun. Instead, Kremnar's eyes fell on the terrible weight of an enemy Imperator Class Titan staring back down at him.

Well, it stared at the wall, where Kremnar and his battle brothers defended, more so than to him alone. Still, to have the god machine, corrupted and vile as it was now, this close to him, jarred even the toughest veterans into a pause. The titan, menacing with its presence rather than comforting, seemed to begin lifting its massive weapon up for a point blank shot into the wall or a target beyond it. As the sternguard veteran found himself incapable of doing anything as he stared down the massive barrel of the god machine, a massive flash blinded him, forcing him to flatten himself to the ground for cover. Even though the beam traveled dozens of meters above him, he could feel the heat from it through his power armor. The noise from the beam penetrating the enemy titan so close to him reverberated in his brain, and only when the light ceased did he began to stand again, still disoriented from the Hellstorm Cannon's strike.

Trying to see through the spots in his eyes, Kremnar gazed upon the titan that stilled towered over him, though its body now stood limply compared to before. A massive hole had appeared on it, framed by red hot metal that glowed as parts of it dripped down. Before he could reflect upon his good fortune though, a loud clink from the titan caught his attention. Slowly, the titan began to tip forward, and only when it reached past the point of no return did the sternguard veteran noticed that another titan was pushing its dead comrade into the wall. Almost instinctively, he knew that he could not outrun it: to go back or sideways to avoid the thing would leave him crushed, as he found himself at the dead center of the titan's path. That left but one option and so Kremnar took a deep breath, one last look upon the sea of enemies before him before he leaped off of the massive Imperial Palace's walls, an incoherent battle cry in his throat.

As the ground quickly approached, Kremnar found with grim satisfaction the shock and awe in the eyes of even the monsters that once called themselves astartes. He knew most of it came from the falling titan, but a part of him wanted to think that a flying enemy speeding towards them through the air with a power scythe over his head had something to do with it. Like before, the sternguard veteran lifted his weapon over his head for an overhead smash, because by the Emperor, if he was to die in the midst of those faithless traitors, he would take one last whoreson down with him. Terra reached up to embrace the falling astartes, and he to her, determined to remove one more piece of filth from her surface before returning to her grasp.

Next thing he knew, Kremnar painfully pushed himself up by his power scythe. He could not explain how he survived the fall or how the titan didn't crush him, but he did know that the Emperor protects. Neither did he recall the landing, or the moment when the walls finally came down, only coming to awareness on his knees. Whispering a word of thanks and gratitude, the sternguard watched as the enemy around him stirred, and he continued to push himself up to an upright position. Undoubtedly he was running on adrenaline and stems alone now, along with his faith, as not even he could understand how he still drew breath, let alone have all four of his limbs along with his weapons. Then again, he understood very little since this madness of a civil war started, and Kremnar was fine with that: his was not the place to ask questions, only to serve the Emperor and destroy the enemies of his Imperium.

Thus, when Kremnar saw the grey and yellow of those that would claim themselves worthy of the IV legion appeared, a fire sprung up from his heart. It spread through his veins and into his limbs, and he even felt it course through his weapons. Standing slightly taller as the figures approached, the sternguard veteran watched as two of them came along side him, and one of the figures spoke. "Hey, you! Disease Rot Bag! Yeah, I'm talking to you Death Guard! Fall in line with us! We're taking the fortress and false emperor's head by the end of this day now that the Iron Tyrant's fell the wall! Hurry up before I send you to that pissant Nurgle you love so much!" The sternguard veteran said nothing, but the power scythe spun in his hand as he turned.

In a flash, the blade came up and impaled the head of one of the Iron Warriors, before slicing clean through and coming back down in a downer strike that stabbed directly into the head of the one that was talking. In the moment of confusion and starting moment of retaliation, Kremnar snapped his melee weapon back onto his back before drawing both of his bolters, and diving behind cover, firing both weapons at anything that moved in the dust storm kicked up by the impact of the falling Imperial Palace wall and the titan corpse that crushed it. Even with the noise of the fighting, the firing bolters and the dust storm however, the traitors could clearly hear a single voice greeting them. It would be one of the few times Kremnar broke his steely silence and professionalism his brothers knew him for in combat.

"YOU TURN YOUR BACK AGAINST THE IMPERIUM, AGAINST THE EMPEROR, WHOM YOU GAVE YOUR WORD TO SERVE AND PROTECT! COME NOW TRAITORS, COME AND I SHALL GIVE YOU YOUR JUST REWARD! REJOICE FOR YOU HAVE THE PRIVILEGE TO DIE ON THE THRONE WORLD!"

The toppling behemoth would be a grim reminder to Vera that, in the grand scheme of things, humanity was very, very small.

It would be her companion who saved Vera as an urgent screech tore the woman’s attention from the titan’s death throes, and to the hand suddenly clamped on her own arm. The pair began to run just in time, a massive boom and a cloud of dust and debris hot on their heels as they skittered into the stairwell. There were less bodies in knot of Sisters gathered in the stairwell than Vera would’ve hoped after such a battle, and those who remained all looked worse for wear–a little, or a lot. Injuries ranged from flesh wounds to missing limbs, from minor burns to empty eyes. Vera’s own char pales in comparison.

The women watched solemnly as the wall crumbled and fell away. The dam had broken, and now blood would flow faster, harder. The leviathan of war was finally breaking down the doors.

Ave Imperator.

Seth grinned as Gorehowl cut through the daemon's neck and looped its head off. He was just about to swing Warsong around and use its burning solution to cook the hound inside out when the daemonic ichor covered his vision, preventing him to see what was to come.

Cataclysm came and passed, but the Soul Smith was far from done. Pushing away the rubble created by the titan's fall, Seth thanked whatever thing was watching his back and saved him from being ouright turned into paste. He cleaned his skull helm from Karanak's blood so he could see better but it was useless, red was now changed for grey. Dust rose up like a fog and it clouded the surroundings, however Seth was still a Legionary and his eldrich memory allowed him to regain his bearings not get lost. Knowing that the friendly lines and the area behind the wall they were stationed on was "over there" in that direction, Seth slowly lumbered towards it, hoping to find some of his brothers along the way.

Hive Merica - Sub Space: New Detroitous​

Claws filed to precise and perfect points slid up the woman's lower jaw; and beneath her flesh. Terror paralyzed the champion's prey, former Astartes, seeing as he was so much more now, brought his fiftieth offering up close for a kiss. Fingers were visible under the hive goer's cheeks now. Situational terror had evolved into an addiction now and the woman writhed in the grip of the Ascendant. Another of the Emperors Children waded through a mob of intoxicated prisoners and stood a few yards away from the scene.

"Guardian of the Visage...you interrupt me why?"

"The walls have fallen." Tearing flesh followed as the adherent of Slaanesh whirled about and clasped all four hands together. Wings that flowed like liquid silver splayed out causing a series of excited shouts and sycophantic cheers.

"Why did you not say so? Let us be off! Far greater ecstasies await! Let us not deny the rabble my presence any longer. Come, Viatine! We fly!"

Heroes​

Slave of Nurgle did not even turn his head to look at Marcus. By the time Zeussar pistol had delivered two mass reactive rounds into grey matter there was nothing left to turn. Apothecary turned towards the breach, or at least where he thought it was and moved forward to find a more defensible position or other survivors. Another bolt pistol discharge hooked him towards the leviathan outline of the fallen Imperator's shoulder. Ahead were more thuggish wraiths marching through the dust. A brief flash and the distinct bark of bolter fire once more followed by the wet slap of someone's head splattering across the ground. Iron Warriors lurked ahead, visible in the light bleeding off several plasma guns and a burning body too small to be an Astartes. Shouting caused all heads to turn towards the East.

"FIGHTING RETREAT SONS OF THE EMPEROR! BACK TO THE PATHS OF ASCENSION!"
​

The Angel's voice cut through the chaos like a knife and struck true in the hearts of traitor and loyalist alike. An invigorating warmth and sense of purpose gripped Marcus' limbs, bolstered by the knowledge that Sanguinius was near and the sight of Iron Warrior's visibly shifting as if expecting him to descend at any moment. An Astartes garbed in black and laying across the back of another fallen warrior primes a grenade and rolls it into the midst of the enemy. Several bolts smashed into the warrior and flip him onto his back, it is too late for the enemy though as frag detonates in their midst. Marcus springs forth with blades drawn, ready to end things decisively. In his short sprint to reach the enemy 'Dark Angel' spies an intact power sword on the ground near the most recent execution. If he can get a grip on it, well, a properly working power sword would work wondrously better than his glorified knives.

Kremnar swept his power scythe through another traitor. Legs gave out from beneath the warrior, severed at knee and calf thanks to an angled swipe that fell well beneath the legionary's guard. Retreating behind a quaking pile of rubble Sternguard found himself pinned by weapons fire. Several heavy thuds interrupted it all, mechanical and lumbering steps that were too light to be another titan, and too heavy to be anything less than a Dreadnought. Bolter fire let up on his position immediately and were replaced with the advance of ceramite boots. Preparing to sell his life dearly Kremnar finds himself staring eye to helmet with a Contemptor. Scythe arcs back to strike, hoping he can penetrate the sarcophagus. He freezes seeing the tarnished bronze name strip near the walker's collar: Har.

"Ever been thrown blade first into a ball of traitors?" Whether due to absent mindedness or lack of functioning vox the interred Veteran speaks aloud. Bolters are racked and the enemy is onto them once more. Har extends his single remaining hand toward Krem.

"Somehow I knew you would survive this." Soul Smith is joined by another division head: Chief Apothecary Gloran uses his impressive bulk to shift a slab of rockrete off another Terminator, freeing up one of the Warsmith's personal guardians. Warrior of true iron rises unsteadily and falls in as the three began advancing towards the fray. Though their orders are to retreat there is little doubt they will be best served making sure their own dazed kin are not run down while trying to form up. "Soul Smith, you seem sufficiently loud that I imagine you would best deliver the rallying call with the vox out of commission."

Vera topples away from the standing half of garrison tower she and her sisters had sought shelter in. Squad was certifiably dead and only herself left alive to remember or even care that they were gone right now. One of the Primarchs has just issued the order to retreat, right now though it is hard to tell which way is forward and which way is death: frankly it all looks like doom. Without warning some pounces down toward her. Dark blue armor and a bat winged helmet storms into her vision, a broken chainaxe that serves as little more than a glorified club sweeping at Vera's head.

Kahrnak is surrounded. A squad of Blood Angels evacuating a neighboring section of the wall begin surging past him, while to his fore a mixed force of Iron Warriors and Death Guard are funneling into a breach so large that it easily dwarfs many battle fields he has been stood upon in the past. The enemy crawls like ants over the dead god's carcass. Fire rips through the air between both sides as sons of Sanguinius do exactly as ordered and fight while they flee.

Dyzek and Vilhelm find themselves torn between multiple options. Orders are in demanding they fall back to the great bridges leading into the Imperial Palace, and the fact that the rest of their brothers are still likely out here. Hunched daemon's blitz out of the dust towards them with jarring suddenness, more of the Hunt Master's hounds that survived the crash. Three in total they lurk at the edge of both warrior's vision, waiting for a prime opportunity to surge forward and strike.

Whatever lethargy might have gripped a battle field in the aftermath of a collapsing titan simply did not come to pass thanks to the sheer magnitude and urgency of Terra itself being under siege. Shell shocked defenders would need to collect themselves quickly or be overrun, for already the Warmaster's thralls were bringing war through the breaches and the mere trickle of foes that the likes of Seventh Squad and others faced would pale to what was only mere seconds away.

Kremnar Eranite shot another enemy, the plasma from his pistol burning through his helmet and skull, before diving back into cover. He had long since run out of ammunition for his bolters and Zeussar bolt pistol, all of which had been mag locked to his black armor still. Around the sternguard veteran dozens of bodies laid, fell by the lone blackshield stuck beyond the breach and the protective walls behind him, but accepting his fate. Just as he turned to fire another round upon another enemy, the pistol warmed quickly, giving tell tale sign of overheating. Dropping the weapon quickly, Kremnar cursed as his cover got pelted by another volley of enemy fire.

One of the Iron Warriors had made the mistake of closing in on the rubble Kremnar hid behind, thinking that the covering fire enough to keep the blackshield pinned until he could get a kill shot on the loyalist. Unexpectedly the flash of a power scythe came around his body, and even as the traitor attempted the block the blow, it curved down and into his legs, taking out his base at the knee and calf of the false Iron Warrior, forcing him to collapse onto the ground before the point of the scythe came around and impaled itself through his skull, killing another enemy. Instantly the fire around the rubble intensified, and the sternguard veteran found himself pinned once more.

At least Kremnar had recovered his plasma pistol, though its energy source seemed to have burnt itself out, leaving it more of a last resort blunt force weapon. Contemplating on how many more he would be able to kill before a detachment simply regroups and overruns his lone defense of the breach, he noticed another sudden shadow falling upon him. Fearing a piece of the massive titan falling off of its frame to crush him, the sternguard veteran turn to see a contemplator dreadnought. Knowing his end had arrive, he drew his weapon back for a strike before halting at the name upon the honored sarcophagus: Har. Kremnar couldn't help but laugh as the incoming fire eased up for a moment, and the dreadnought asked his question.

"No, but it's a hell of a way to go. Let's do it," Kremnar replied in relatively good spirits due to being both sadden that another had to make his last stand here but glad that he could die next to someone else who understood loyalty to the Imperium. Getting into the lone remaining hand of the dreadnought, he felt the metal grasp securing him, before lifting him up into the air and winding back. The traitors would finish reloading soon, and they had to make use of this pause before it passed. At the moment of launch, the sternguard veteran said words that he knew the other would ignore, but he knew must be said anyway. "If you can make it back through to our lines Har. Do so. I shall buy you as much time as possible so that you can help the fighting retreat in the back." The only reply he got came from a sudden acceleration from the solo limb forward, followed by a release of the metal grasp and him speeding through the air once more, this time at an entire squad of traitors as they came back out of the cover to fire upon them.

Power scythe drew back, Kremnar sliced forward to the best of his ability as he collided with his foes. The Emperor must watch over him indeed, as the first strike of the weapon managed to lop the heads of two enemy astartes clean off of their bodies, causing their decapitated corpses to crumble onto the ground. His own body collided with a third enemy, causing them to tumble back and forth away from the rest of the shocked squad. Rolling back up, the scythe cut through the ground in a spinning fashion, following its wielder. It bit into the other warrior, before rending through both of his primary hearts. Sliding to a stop, he managed to look up to see the remaining enemies nearby all began to switch over to close quarters weaponry, and readjusted his grip on the power scythe.

It is better to die for the Emperor than to live for yourself.

Herchel the last moments flashed through his eyes Seth taking off one of the heads of the three headed hound, Herchel and Nathaniel going at the beasts jaws a tooth shattering out before one of the heads looked up, and through its eyes Herchel saw something that made his hearts stop, The titan that was about to fall on top of them.

The last parts he saw was of the blast throwing him back rubble plummbiting and his brothers being thrown and that hound being blasted back, As Herchel awoke he felt something trying to come up his throat, Blood, bile a mixture of of his stomach contents, Trying to dislodge himself the terminator activated his thunderh ammer causing sparks and light to appear from the rubble where he moved, the lighting bouncing out of the sockets of the skulls for a moment as if Herchel or his former rivals spite still lingered within,

As Herchel began moving he kept his mouth shut hearing the fall back order but needing to do one thing once he got out. As Herchel smashed upwards debris carved through and the termiantor began shifting rubble moving and the light of the orange fire skys shine down. Herchel ripped off his helmet for a moment let his stomach contents out before shoving his helmet back on.

"Squad Herchel This Is Herchel begin falling back immediately to the next defensive point support our brothers that are falling back but do not get left behind, Be ready to teleport if you need to." Herchel said through the Vox of his squad as he lifted his culvan up and began moving his eyes searching the area around him, Really need to get a different name for the squad besides my name gets confusing if your the sergeant and someone talks to yeah if you mean herchel or the squad, Herchel thought as he heard the loud rumbling, of squads of iron warriors likely trying to make there way through the breach. Patching into his helmets Indicatior he tried to see who was alive and who was dead from Seventh and a Herchels own as he began moving, His attention going to falling back the terminator began stepping through blood, a mixture of his own and the hound of three heads.

"Hah, I'm to busy to die Glorian, although...the day isn't over yet," Seth grinned back at the Chief Apothecary and together alongside the third honor guard legionary, they formed some kind of a line. "We're not leaving until every living bastard that's on our side is accounted for," Soul Smith said and began marching towards the fray, setting his skull mask's speakers to maximum given the fact vox was busted.

"BROTHERS OF THE IRON, THIS IS YOUR SOUL SMITH SPEAKING! WE ARE TO FALL BACK BUT WE ARE TOO DENSE TO SIMPLY FORM A FIGHTING RETREAT. FOLLOW MY VOICE AND LINK ON MY POSITION, WE ARE TO GIVE THESE SONS OF BITCHES A PROPER BEATING NOW THAT THEY THINK THEY PUSHED THROUGH!"

It was as good as a message as any however the first warrior who came in view was a Death Guard marine, most likely still dazed from the crash of the titan he ended up on the wrong side of the line. Too bad for him, Seth saw him first.

"Let the Grandfather's rot..." he began and rose his bolter but before he could fire Warsong bit directly into his chest.

"Yeah yeah, I've heard that before," Soul Smith activated the flaming oil which engulfed the Death Guard with such speed that he turned into ash in matter of minutes, his now-burnt remains flying all over as the powered teeth made mess of his body. "Wonder how many of these tenacious fucks are we going to meet on our way out. I reckon with our luck they'll stick to us like flies to a big pile of shit. Shit being you of course Glorian," Seth laughed and kept on marching, trying to find any of his comrades and hopefully get out of this impact zone in one piece.