We have come

[Brother Sergeant Luther]

 

The Lord of Macragge sat alone within his throne room, having had enough of the snivelling toadies that flocked to his world with the news of his awakening. His sons had been reluctant to leave him, only finally relenting when he had approved of an honour guard stood outside the chambers door. It pained him to see his father's dream reduced to the broken shell described in the histories his sons had brought him. So much had happened, to much to change all at once, and even a flawed blade could still be wielded as a weapon. The question was would it break before it could be reforged?

 

“I remember there being three thrones in this chamber when I last stood in it, and an Emperor sat in the throne you occupy, Uncle” the voice with its mocking tone snapped Roboute away from theoretical and back to the practical as his eyes scanned the chamber for its owner. In the shadows between two pillars he found him.

 

The marine stepped forward into the light revealing an antiquated set of black power armour partially hidden beneath a tattered cloak. His features were hidden beneath the cowl of his hood, but it was not this that caught Roboute’s eye. No it was the hilt of the blade jutting out above the Marines shoulder that held his gaze, memories of a different time come to him, of when he had snapped that sword over his knee. He felt his humours darken as his irritated scowl turned into a glower of anger.

“And I remember exiling that sword and it's owner from my world, this is the second time that edict has been violated. Who are you to come speaking of days long past, carrying the broken blade of an oath breaker?”

 

The marine tensed at his words and lowered the hood revealing a face familiar to the Lord of Macragge.

“You?! You dare set foot in my presence after the devastation you wrought to my world” he rose from his seat drawing to his full height. “Why have you come here? How are you here when so many better men have been lost to the ravages of time”

 

The marine smiled mockingly as he answered.

“Why Uncle you invited me, was it not you who put out the rallying cry for those loyal to the Imperium to gather under your banner? I have gathered my brethren and come to offer our bolters to support your cause. I have seen the storm gathering poised to crash against your precious worlds, you need every blade you can muster.” he spreads his arms at his side as he talks revealing a pair of pistols on his hip beneath his cloak.

“All I ask for in return is aid in completing my final order from my liege lord”

 

Roboute calmed his humours as he listened, it was true he had broadcast the rallying call, but even still there were too many unknowns.

“My brother is ten thousand years dead what command could still command such loyalty after so long? And why do you stand before me in war plate of Legion black when the Lion's sons now wear the dark green of Caliban”

 

The marine smiles sadly his tone losing its mocking edge.

“My father had a saying, ‘Loyalty is it's own reward’. I had never truly understood it until he set me on my path. I bear the colours of my Legion for I have watched and guided all the ‘chapters’” his face twisted into a sneer at that word “of my father's sons. To forge them into the weapon they needed to be, a weapon soon ready to be unsheathed. Tell me uncle do you remember the motto of my order?”

 

Roboute frowned at the question

“Yes I remember Redloss, was it not ‘We have come, we are death’?"

As he finished speaking the words of the motto the sound of fifty gauntlets striking breastplates echoed in the hall as the motto was taken up as a chant by robed marines clad in the black armour that bore the winged sword of the Dark Angels and the skulls in hourglass symbol of their order, stepped from the shadows of the chamber, their armour and weapons as antiquated as their leader who stood before him, he would need to have words with his sons as how such a breach in security had occurred.

 

The doors to the chamber were opened and his honour guard entered weapons at the ready, only a curt gesture from Roboute stopped them attacking those they found before them. In the centre of the chamber Redloss raised the hood of his cloak again as he spoke.

“You will have need of the skills of our brotherhood in this coming war of yours Lord of Ultramar. But Redloss died ten thousand years past, I am Lord Cypher”

 

And around the chamber, punctuated by the clash of gauntlet on chestplate, the chant continued.

“We have come, we are death”

“We have come, we are death”

“We have come. ..”