[center][h2][color=7B68EE]Castigus[/color][/h2][/center]
[center][h3]Bridge of [i]The Awoken[/i] - ???.M41[/h3][/center]

The gathering of various chaos adherents did not bode well for the success of the entire endeavor. Truthfully it made Castigus sick to his stomach and his glands reacted accordingly. The taste of acid in his mouth made him feel the need to spit. Instead, he swallowed it neatly. Another time. His stomach would reabsorb the incredibly potent saliva. Blessings of the Nighthaunter few though they were. His Legions gene-seed was pure.

The addition of three more mercenaries made him shift from disinterest to annoyance before finally settling on downright disgust as the Khornate made his entrance. It was everything his Legion hated in one living being. The itch to put his hand back on the blackout grenade and gun the chain axe was nigh irresistible. Something about Laszlo’s shift, however, made him stop. The Alpha Legion marine was scheming. Castigus wasn’t exactly sure how he knew it and frankly with their kind it really never stopped but something about his bearing told him new calculations were occurring in his Brother’s head. That was enough to quell the urge to dispatch the mutant freak of a creature that had once been Astartes. He wondered vaguely if the creature had been XII legion. It wouldn’t surprise him to find out that was the case. They had never been a stable legion. Which was rich coming from him. At least Angron had grown up learning from humans as opposed to simply terrorizing and occasionally eating them. Then again none of them had altered Xenos technology hardwired into their brains so, in the end, he supposed it was an even comparison. Never mind the fact that by the time he was 10 he’d perfected the art of murder. After losing his older brothers it had been up to him to keep his sister out of trouble. Thankfully after the first time, it had become increasingly easy. 

Shaking free of the memory he shifted in the shadows on the edge of the room. It was clear their host had a plan and almost on cue he announced they were being sent to collect some sort of relic from the surface of the hell hole they were in high orbit above. Mortals. Always chasing after legends to increase their fame. As though it made a difference. This one would die and be forgotten like so many others. Billions had been ground to meat by the inexorable tide of blood and steel that drowned the galaxy and the eye of terror since the siege of Holy Terra. This one wasn’t special. When he offered them slaves Castigus nearly shot the man.

[hr]

[center][h2][color=7B68EE]Castigus[/color][/h2][/center]
[center][h3]Enroute to the Surface - Mission day 1.0 ???.M41[/h3][/center]


The shuttle left much to be desired. Castigus was used to deploying from low orbit or the back of a Thunderhawk and insane speeds. This was neither of those things. The Nightraptor stood idly in the back of the shuttle wondering why in the name of the Primarchs they had taken up with these fools when suddenly things got interesting. Laverna went sailing across the interior of the shuttle and it sent everything into a lurch. It took Castigus a few stumbling steps before he finally mag-locked his boots to the decking. Laszlo caught the flying bodyguard and crammed her back into the command throne. Part of him half expected one of the mortals to say that absurd phrase that marked them as being born after the Heresy. He smirked inside his helm as a series of ruins blinked to life inside his helmet’s display. [i]”Throne of the God-Emperor”[/i]. It didn’t happen immediately so no need to expend any of his precious bolt shells. Listening to Laszlo tell the mortal woman to land the craft he finally cackled aloud over his vox grill. It was a strange sound amplified by the helm and the depth of his astartes enhanced form. [color=7B68EE]“Don’t bother landing us just get me close.”[/color] Blink-clicking the ruin in the upper left corner of his helmet’s display he watched the readouts for his jump pack spool up. The machine spirit was ready for war and the crews mechanicum servitors had provided the necessary fuel for it. With plodding steps, he made his way towards the shuttle’s doorway. Really he just needed to clear the shuttle so hopefully the mortal could get the damn ship to stop spinning. 

Turning to look he braced by the door and in Nostroman, over the vox link between him and his brother, vocalized [color=7B68EE]“In Midnight Clad”[/color]. With that, he waited for the signal they were close enough for him to jump.