Location: Imperial Transport - Litany of Retribution/City Ruins.
The sounds of bolter fire and other heavy weaponry echoed throughout the grand interior of the Retribution as its crew fought tooth and claw to repel a veritable horde of Warpspawn that had forced their way onto the craft during a routine jump into the Immaterium. Bullets flew, armor sparked, and flesh was rent as the daemonic swarm surged from deck to deck, putting down defender after defender. Even the mighty crimson clad Blood Angels were being pressed, already having to fall back to the rear portions of the ship, giving up valuable ground in the process. It was in one of these sections, and one of these squads, that Ophiel found himself-bolter in hand-mowing down row upon row of daemons, doing his best to remain calm, silently praying to the Emperor that the thirst didn't take hold. For if it did he would find himself bereft of all strategy or tactic, charging forward at the vile chaos spawn currently surging towards them with reckless abandon. While he was more than willing to die in the service of the Emperor, breaking ranks was the worst thing he could do at the moment. Not only would it weaken their formation, it would also provide a convenient opening through which the beasts could push, putting his brothers at risk of death or worse.
So, ignoring the gore flying through the air, he kept the trigger of his gun depressed, unleashing a steady stream of explosive projectiles. Once the clip was empty he pulled it out and tossed it to the side before slamming in a fresh one and staring back down the iron sights. Swiftly acquiring his next target-a rapidly approaching Bloodletter-Ophiel put a .75 caliber round between its eyes, causing its head to burst like a rotten melon. A melon that promptly reformed as the twisted energies of the Warp brought it back, stronger than before.
"Grox…" He cursed internally, falling back a bit as his fellow battle-brothers did the same, their guns belching out thick clouds of acrid smoke as they were emptied and refilled without rest.
"They just keep coming! At this rate we'll be overwhelmed... Damn it! We need to-"Ophiel's inner monologue was abruptly shattered as modulated screams rang out from their flank. Whirling round, he watched as another group of daemons swarmed over one of their makeshift barricades, overwhelming the defenders stationed there. Raising his bolter, his eyes narrowing into rage filled slits behind the glowing socket panes of his helm, Ophiel unleashed another torrent of .75 caliber rounds at the hellions, even though he knew how it would all end. They would be slain. Their bodies consumed or defiled at best, and twisted to serve the forces of Chaos at worst.
"Still, if this is to be how I die..."He exclaimed, making his voice heard over the screams of the dying and the bone-chilling screeching of daemons as he slung his bolter over his shoulder and unsheathed his chainsword, preparing to bring its fanged edge down upon the neck of a clueless Bloodletter that had strayed a bit to close during the fighting.
"THEN SO BE IT! FOR THE EMPEROR!!!!"Bringing it down, its toothed edge whirring as it cut through the air, Ophiel suddenly found his view obscured by a bright light. One that faded away to reveal a ruined city on the very edge of nightfall. Letting out a surprised grunt as the downward momentum from his swing made his sword embed itself within the blasted concrete that had replaced the polished metallic decks of the Retribution he had been fighting on only a few seconds prior, the confused space marine spun around wildly, scanning his surroundings as though he were expecting an attack at any moment.
"What!?" He shouts, his gaze tearing over the area.
"I was just on the ship and then... no... no, no, NO!!! VILE DAEMONS!!! REVEAL YOURSELVES!!!"Ophiel continued to shout, albeit for his fellow battle-brothers this time, his voice radiating powerfully off of the surrounding buildings. The area, however, remained silent. Breathing heavily, the handle of his chainsword held in a white knuckle grip, Ophiel began racking his mind as to what had happened before coming to a conclusion. The Warp, that was it. Perhaps one of the Ruinous Powers, or a stray shifting of the realm had brought him here, wherever that was. Not that it mattered. He still had a duty to the Emperor and all of mankind, even if he was the sole survivor of the battle that was no doubt still raging on the Retribution at this very moment.
And by Holy Terra he would see it done.
Taking his hand off the lever of his chainsword, he slid it back into the sheath slung over his shoulder once it had powered down, checked the rest of his gear to make sure it was all present and accounted for, then set off, his clamorous footsteps the only prelude to his arrival. During this time he only stopped once along the way to retrieve a scroll containing information and tokens within its crinkly folds, taking a few seconds to read it before tossing it back to the wayside, dismissing it as a trick of the Warp.
Continuing onwards, he set out to discover just where in the Materium, or Immaterium, he was.
Banned
