To understand how the Imperio Armatus fight, one must first consider the conditions they were brought up in.

The Emperor has had many children in his time, but few of which he has personally deigned to help raise. These Ronin are seemingly cursed with bad luck, in such a way that they are oftentimes unavoidably stillborn or miscarried. Some small proportion of their number survive to actually be born, and it then becomes obvious that they are functional blanks in terms of their effect of the Warp, and more importantly on the minds of those about them, who often fear and wish to execute them even as newborns and infants. Even if they avoid this fate, they in turn tend to be executed by accidents, natural disasters, and sometimes absurd occurrences that one would need to see to believe, as though reality itself strives to end their lives. Few of those born healthy and living survive to the point that they can start actively avoiding these threats, and even these are uncommonly incapable of achieving adulthood in a way that lets them follow the spiritual link that forms at this age, drawing them in to their father, and to a modicum of momentary safety, for even he cannot protect them forever.

This lifestyle works to give any Ronin of significant age an almost preternatural sense of awareness of their surroundings. In combination with their natural physique, benefited as they are in at least this manner by their lineage, a sufficiently-honed Ronin might even sense and duck underneath a bolter round after it has been fired, though it is more common to see one instead weave between multiple potential accidents in a row, or else die trying. Once this curse of bad luck is lifted by the various Custodes surgeries, and training in combat provided to them prior to their initiation into the Zodiac Guard, they become nigh-untouchable, seeming to move fluidly around attacks from all angles even in power armour, to the point that even a Primarch has trouble damaging them significantly despite their similar maneuverability otherwise.

Of course, in the case of a psyker such as Gemini, this near-prescience manifests in a slightly different manner. The very start of the battle is swiftly heralded by a fireworks display of disgorged Warp energy - the immense blast of built-up WAAAGH! energy by fifty Weirdboyz on one hand, clashing against the transparent barrier of Gemini on the other. As his siblings leap into battle against the mass of Nobs, he instead remains comparatively still, only ducking and weaving round those Nobs that try to attack him as he focuses; every so often, a blast of red and blue energy is launched from out of his helmet's visors, cutting through the attacks of the Weirdboyz and vaporising one or two of them. To any of significant psychic sensitivity, it is instantly clear that these are not mere blasts of energy, but beams that seem almost divinely empowered, for they in fact draw upon the Emperor's own soul, via the Soul Binding that the Zodiac Guard has taken upon himself for that purpose and others.

By contrast, to the other four Armatus in the room, combat is mostly based on physical power. Indeed, both Virgo and Libra would make for a fine display of combat skill on their own. The former wields [i]Daemonbane[/i] in a single hand, its blades shearing through Orkish armour like paper, deflecting power klaws and rubbishing choppas and shootas of all sizes, whilst using her free hand to perform something like acrobatics over and around her foes and their weapons. The latter, gifted after her surgery with actual precognition, remains more conservative, wielding merely a storm bolter and the power sword [i]Draco[/i], seeming to move such that, rather than dodging blows, it just happens that wherever she is is precisely where an attack is not; her weapons, though not as extravagant as those of some of her fellows, are nevertheless enough to get the job done, her bolt rounds and blade finding weakpoints throughout the morass to cripple and kill each Nob in succession.

Yet both almost seem pale in comparison to Aquarius. If the other Zodiac Guards are fluid in battle, she is water, almost appearing to weave through the melee in ways that should be impossible in power armour. Her power lance, [i]Thricevoid[/i], only emphasises this; though overcomplex, with three blades on both ends that automatically rotate to slice in whatever direction the stave is moved, she remains unhindered by its bulk, leaving triple-slices in whatever the weapon passes through, propelled by strength even beyond most of her siblings to leave Karapaces in shreds, and Mega Armour somewhat wanting.

As unofficial second-in-command of the Imperio Armatus below only the Emperor himself, the centerpiece of the fight is Cancer, bearing an odd combination of a power scythe and a chain glaive, [i]Homestead[/i] and [i]Brachyura[/i], against the Overlord himself with a finesse that speaks of many years of experience. Urlakk, by comparison, seems clunky whilst hindered by his mega armour and power klaw, though each blow has enough force behind it to crush plasteel like paper, and the oversized shoota in his other hand is able to put out more than enough firepower to eventually penetrate any form of personal shielding, a fact that the grey-clad Guard is well aware of. His dodges are near-flawless, and though the attacks made with his weapons are not necessarily harmful on their own, they stack up to start carving gashes into the ramshackle defenses.

[color=00a651]"'Old still, ya git!"[/color] the Warlord screams, frustration starting to show in his voice as he swipes. [color=00a651]"Oi can't killz ya if ya keep dodgin'!"[/color]

[color=626262]"That's the idea, you oversized freak!"[/color] Cancer yells back, landing yet another blow against Urlakk's armour, this time managing to break through entirely and score a wound upon the titanic Ork with [i]Brachyura[/i], sending him stumbling back a couple of feet, and giving the creature a chance to catch his breath.

[color=00a651]"Grrruh! Damn you 'umies, yer not ment ta be dis fast! Wotz da game 'ere?"[/color] Urlakk asks, clearly exasperated at how incapable he is at striking the Ronin.

[color=626262]"Poor fool,"[/color] Cancer says with a shake of his helmet and a brandishing of his weapons. [color=626262]"If you really think we're normal humans, then you never stood a chance to begin with."[/color] [i]Homestead[/i] is swung round to try and finish the Overlord off, but he is unpleasantly surprised when the alien's power klaw is brought up to grab the weapon's blade, locking it in position.

[color=00a651]"PAH! Zog dat! Yer bigga an' fasta,"[/color] the Ork spits with a swing of his free arm, [color=00a651]"but'cher 'umies all da same! An' loik any 'umie, yooze gotten ova-con-fiddent, an' fergotten dat oi 'old da taktikal advantage 'ere!"[/color]

[color=626262]"Your "surprise attack" has FAILED, you monster!"[/color] Cancer yells, swinging his free weapon round in time with his exposition at Urg's shoulder, but failing to cause more than scratches, for poor attack angle and for not having focused its protection down sooner. [color=626262]"And your BODYGUARD is being DISMANTLED as we SPEAK!"[/color]

[color=00a651]"Yer fink dat's wot oi woz torkin' 'bout?! Mork's gob, YOOZE da one not finkin' straight! Ya see, oi 'old da advantage ov 'avin' control ova da most important fing ov all: da ellyment ov SERPROIZE!"[/color]

On cue, a cubic nozzle pops up from just below the Overlord's klaw, from which spews a massive gout of burning promethium - surely not as pure as that produced by the Imperium, but hot enough to boil a man alive inside his armour nonetheless. Cancer is forced to release [i]Homestead[/i] and leap away to avoid the worst of the fuel, but its intensity of both heat and light is enough to leave him effectively blind.

Blind enough, in fact, that he fails to predict the power klaw coming at him until it has wrapped itself round his torso and hoisted him in the air, arms pinned to his side and unable to break free. A rare failure of the Ronin's spatial awareness, but a surely fatal one in this position. Nigh-instantly, three of the remaining Zodiac Guard begin to fight their way over to Urlakk and Cancer, Virgo and Aquarius calling to him as if it will help; yet the fray remains thick, and even a Ronin could not hope to reach them in time.

Gemini, silent despite the heavy reduction of psychic power levelled against him, simply holds two fingers to his temple and sends out a psychic signal.

[color=00a651]"TOIME TA POP YA, MAGGOT!"[/color] the Warlord screams, steadily increasing the pressure the klaw is exerting, compressing Cancer's power armour until it begins to creak with the extertion. Cancer himself groans in sympathy, struggling to break free to no avail, the pressure on his torso becoming greater and greater.

With no warning, the pressure is released, and Cancer drops to the floor, landing in a crouch before Urlakk Urg's severed arm. It takes the Ork a second to realise what has happened, even as the battle around him goes silent.

[color=00a651]"...wot?"[/color]

That is all he manages to say before a shining golden power claw tears through his chest, heedless of protection, and hoists him far off the ground, screaming and struggling: [color=00a651]"AAH! WOT?! WOT DA ZOG?!"[/color] Urlakk tries to look behind himself, but his own armour hinders his range of movement, and all he perceives is an impossibly bright golden glow in the corner of his vision.

[color=D4AF37]+YOUR REIGN OF TERROR COMES TO A CLOSE, URLAKK URG. BEHOLD, ORKS OF ULLANOR: THE DEATH OF YOUR MASTER.+[/color]

With a psychic shockwave that ripples through the entire Ullanor System, touching the mind of every fighting man, woman, and Ork within, the Emperor of Mankind tears upward, shredding most of Urlakk Urg's body and instantly ending his life. The proximity of the shockwave itself, combined with the sudden death of their leader, is too much for the remaining Weirdboyz in the tower to take, and their heads simultaneously detonate, creating lesser-yet-sympathetic psychic blasts that cause the head of every remaining Nob in the room to perish in the same manner but a moment later.

Like that, the battle in the tower, and so the battle across the Ullanor Sector, ends. On Ullanor Prime proper, and within the Ullanor System itself, the Orkish menace almost instantly begins to rout, the forces of humanity inspired to take on a mantle of absolute boldness, allowing them to sweep through the green tide like a scythe through wheat; this pattern repeats with every planet in the sector as the shockwave expands, until every living being in the area has been made aware of the Overlord's demise. It will take no more than a few weeks to finalise the extermination of Urlakk Urg's empire.

But before then, there are other matters to attend to. Though it is not required of the Imperio Armatus, Cancer remains kneeling in silent supplication to his lord father, well aware that his failure would have cost him his life if not for the Emperor's arrival.

[color=D4AF37]"Peace, my child. You did as well as you could have. Sheathe your weapons, and rest, all of you."[/color]

For the next few minutes, all is rather quiet. The Armatus' helmets are removed, revealing features not too far separated from their immortal parent's own in most cases - dark hair and darker eyes abound, though their skin tone is somewhere between a deep tan and a pale grey pallor for their lineage, with only Virgo's softly glowing epidermis, Cancer's inexplicably bone-white hair, and Gemini's empty, burned-out eye sockets proving different from the standard. All but Cancer discuss the battle with one another amongst the corpses, talking tactics and strategies to further improve their prowess for future battles; Cancer remains silent and dour, mulling over his defeat despite his status, but paying close attention to his fellows as they speak nonetheless.

The discussion is broken when Gemini feels the Emperor's mind touch his own, gently, the way one might tap a hammer against a nail before the blow that sends the nail into the wood is struck. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he turns to face his father, ready to perform whatever duty is required of him.

[color=D4AF37]"Call to your brethren, Primarch and Armatus alike. We shall hold a Triumph for the glories achieved this day; but before that, we must hold a Council."[/color]

Gemini nods, closes his eyelids serenely, and falls to his knees in agony as blood dribbles from his facial orifices. The Emperor's will is done: [color=A1A100][i]A council is being held. Gather on Ullanor Prime, at the tower once held by Overlord Urlakk Urg. You have two solar weeks before we start.[/i][/color]

[hider=OOC Footer]
And finally, this post is out. That took far too long, I think we can all agree. Anyway, to those who are in the middle of something important, finish that off in your next post, and then add the reception of Gemini's message to the end of that, either by the Primarch themselves or by their Astropaths as needed, and have them move out toward Ullanor Prime; to those not occupied with anything at the moment, just make a post where the message is received and obeyed.
[/hider]