[h1]Memphos[/h1]

He heard the cry of battle, the thunder of guns ringing in the air, and the sounds of Battle Cries cut short followed by either the moans of the dying, or the silence of the dead. There was a sort of artistry to the sounds of battle, the staccato screams of the damned and dying painting across the canvas that was the battlefield. Using the oldest paints know to mankind, the blood of its people, a work of art was being crafted in his Emperor's name. Truly, the pinnacle on Mankind he was, for only he could craft such beings so talented in the art of death as his brothers and sisters, and even his lessers the Thunder Warriors were proving their Martial worth today. 

Though he found the artistry they employed to be brutish, without skill and finesse, lacking in all refinement and grace they only slathered the field with filthy finger paintings. An introductory work to be sure, but nothing worthy of the Emperor. They were a Hammer lacking chisel, stonework flying wildly with each strike, so did the mess they create sully that which he savored. Any joy he gained from his work, was offset by the barbarity. "Ugh, such animals." he whispered to himself, the sound only for his ears in the sealed compartment that was his helm. He wished for the presence of his brothers and sisters, yet had to content himself with the Thunder Warriors. 

He held his axe at his side, the thrumming field of power giving the blade a thin blue hue as the golden filigree along the haft and handle ran with red blood. Many of the men dying today could have been spared, had they only understood and comprehended the great works the Emperor wished to enact. His Master was Grand, his scope of sight beyond all compare, and he only wished to uplift humanity. People however are loathe to let go of power, even meager amounts, in sacrifice to the great grandeur of humanity. Selfishness, pettiness, brutality, barbarity, and most reprehensible of all, Willful Ignorance. 

Disgusting things, lacking in all refinement. How he wished to be back at the base, with brush in hand as he gazed at his canvas. He wished to bring life to the barren, not take it, yet he knew that this was his duty. [b]"Duty unto Death, For Humanity, For our Emperor."[/b] he said resolutely. He opened his Vox, speaking to the Cadre of Thunder Warriors under him, ordering them forward in cohesion with the Champions own command. [b]"Go Forth, Slay the Enemy of the Emperor. Do not fall behind the Advance."[/b] he said simply, before he stepped forward. Holding up his wrist, a wave of fresh enemy troops disappeared in chunks of sizzling flesh as he let bark the exact amount of rounds needed, minimizing Ammunition spending while maximizing effect.

He could only sigh at it all, staring down as their blood stained the sand, a macabre painting showing the futility of fighting against Change.