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[Series]Cursed Legacy


Bongfu

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*Authors Notes* This is the start of a series based around the rise of a Hastatus to the Exalted Centurion of the First Cohort in the Favored Souls Chapter. I will update below when new parts are added.

 

*12/4/09 - Added the Epilogue *updated with new chapter lore*

 

Epilogue

Black ash fell from the sky as if it was the world's version of snow. Guardsmen choked on the thick oily substance that covered everything in dense layers of blackness. Veritius' filtration system did not fail to remove the accursed snow from his calm breathing, but the smell of death, decay and burning cities could not be filtered out even with the most powerful ventilation in the Imperium.

 

Over the horizon more of them came again. Marching across the blasted body strewn field, their legions clad in armor much like his, Veritius could see they brought armor with them this time. A battle Brother took his position next to Veretius, kneeling behind what little cover he could find in the pock marked road.

 

"Sir, should we deploy in delta pattern now?" Legion Brother Petronius' eager voice came over his integral comm unit. Without a word, the Centurion nodded to his squad. The contube spread out on the road waiting for the enemy's next move. Brother Petronius who had become very adept with his twin Powerfist crouched in a crater at the head of the squad. Brother Antonius leveled his plasma rifle towards the enemy, kneeling behind a destroyed tank trap. Legion Brother Ardias' famed abilities with the Powersword had not failed for twenty years. Veritius hoped this record would continue, as he noted he ducked beneath a small ridgeline next to the road. Veritius joined Brother Gratus at the dugout observing the road, his bolter poised to kill any foe at an incredible range.

 

Time seemed to move in slow motion for the aging Centurion however. His mind wandered as it had often done since the Corsidor incident. Often he thought of his past, but one thing in particular was always his life before being recruited into the Chapter. Now more than ever on the eve of battle, Veritius afforded himself one last time to ponder. The skies lightened, trees spurted from the ground, while foliage engulfed everything beneath them. The sounds of many animals filled his naked ears. The twin suns warm his tan skin. He throws back his head, his long thick black hair falling against his bare back.

 

"Hluchak!" he hears in a language almost dead to him. He spins around and sees a brute of a man holding two bows with a cheerfully wide grin. "Hluchak! Are you ready for our big hunt?"

 

Almost at a loss of what to say Hluchak manages, "Y-Yes, uh, yes I am ready." he has forgotten this man's name. Flashes of his desecrated body flash in before Veritius. His mind jumps to his last moments alive. Two large Orks spring from the trees in front of him, reacting quickly Hluchak throws his spear dead center into the right one. The second one charges the unarmed Hluchak. Not hesitating Hluchak surges forward with his fist. As he makes contact, the Orks head explodes in a shower of blood, bone and brain matter. It washes over Hluchak as he stands dumbfound. He feels a sharp blow to the back of the head, and falls forward onto the decaying ground. His body goes cold, but he manages to move his head enough to see to his right. Clad in iron as black as the night, bursting with strange golden symbols and adorned with the skull of a man, the strange guardian stands with a smoking spear thrower of the Saviors. The powerful being cast more of the lightning quick spears into nearby Orks as he strides towards the fallen Thrantossian.

 

The frightening Savior kneels at the side of Hluchak, a booming voice echoes from no moving mouth, "Even in your mortal state you inspired us immortals. I will stand beside you in the next life brother." Hluchak has little time to decipher the strange language of the Saviors, his vision blackens and he feels nothing. Nothing at all.

 

Out of the blackness the voice rises again, calling his name, "Veritius," but not the one he expected, "Veritus!" the Centurion is snapped back into the present. The skies darken, and the nothing sings from the dead world around him. "Veritius Decimus!" he wheels around. In front of him the black iron nightmare of his dreams.

 

"Vicconius," he greets his old friend, "come to give us a motivational speech, or perhaps you would care to crack a few of the traitorous cans open with us?"

 

"Metallius had ordered me to reinforce your position, I came to inform you, but it seems you have broken your vow to never use Toltolecma." the Chaplain let out a laughter that would rival an Champion of Tzeentch.

 

"I am afraid I will not be sharing your enthusiasm for the substance Brother, but let us not converse longer, the enemy is waiting." the Chaplain nods in agreement. Just as he does the first shell from the traitors collides with the pavement in front of this. The shockwave rips through the defenders, knocking the nearby guardsmen on the backs. Still on his feet Veritius raises his Powerfist into the air just as the first rhino appears over the crest of the hill. "Now brothers! Charge!" Forward he strides, plasma pistol blazing chanting the Litanies of Decimus.

 

Decimus, number thirteen

Bless me with your strength

Decimus, ancient brother to me

Hear my battle cry

Decimus, slayer of the traitor Monyka

Lend me your skill

Decimus, favored of the Emperor

Show me your faith

Decimus, defender of the Pass

Grant me your courage

Decimus, destroyer of thousands

See that no foe best me

Decimus, preacher of destruction

Secure in me his will

Decimus, fallen of seventy five

Let me waste no time

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