There was nothing about Harkon that was clean. With armour so caked with dust, soot, burn marks and damage it was difficult to tell which Legion he represented just by looking at him. One wouldn't have been judged harshly for guessing Iron Hands or Raven Guard.
That was only until you saw him move. Then you knew he was a World Eater. Flanked by his squad mates the Astartes dropped from the second floor of the building they had been sheltering in as the World Eater vehicles were close enough. Every movement broadcast pure naked aggression as Hakron smashed through the damaged wall and into the street.
Their movement was met by aggression on the other side and the driver of the rhino sped up to meet them.
The veteran squad stopped and turned, pursued by the vehicle back into the building from which they had just emerged.
The loyalists veered off to either side as the rhino smashed through the rubble in the base of the building. As it emerged from the other side the front of the tank was shattered by heavy bolter fire from the building directly facing it. The occupants poured out of the ruined APC and Hakron and his squad opened fire on them as they stumbled out.
Hakron saw Klimpt, the Chaplain pour fire from his plasma pistol into the traitors too. As Klimpt swept into the disoriented and disembarked Astartes Hakron ordered his own men forward.
The struggle was fierce, but brief and soon the traitors were splayed out amidst the detritus of the building, their own blood causing the dust kicked up by the struggle to stick to their armour.
Hakron heard an explosion to his right and looked. He saw Command Braast moving towards another group of traitors. Even from this distance his enhanced senses could see the cooling barrel of the commanders combi-melta and past it a rhino slewing to the side with its track melted and then the impact with the dreadnought to its right.
Braast didn't slow down, he charged into the hulking walker which Hakron could see had a smashed power fist raised. Braast ignored the blow when it fell and smashed his own chain fist into the sarcophagus of the machine, the whirling teeth ripping apart armoured plating until they reached blood and the dreadnought staggered backwards before falling over.
The traitors, now recovered from the destruction of their APC, dove on Braast. He slew two of them with the empowered fist-blade but the traitor sergeant smashed his power fist in Braast's unarmoured face pulping the entire head of the terminator armoured World Eater.
As he turned to look to his left a squad of traitors swarmed all of the Terminators holding his flank.
Swinging all manner of vicious close combat weapons the traitors cut down each of the loyalist terminators before they could even swing with their cumbersome powerfists. Only the sergeant managed to bring one of the traitors down, the fallen warriors lips still vibrating with the scream of rage that poured fourth from it as his head was severed.
His squad fired into the rampagers as the last of the terminators dropped, fired and then charged. The passengers of another rhino disembarked and charged up the shattered steps of the building into the fray. Hakron could see that he had made a mistake, his veterans were outmatched. A lightning claw tore into his side ripping most of his entrails out as it ripped through him.
He dropped to his knees and a massive chain ax smashed through his power pack and into his spine. He fell forward his chest plate smashing into the rubble, his armoured head bouncing off of the ground. His squad fell around him and the traitors were off running.
One of them clipped his shoulder pad with his foot as he ran past, throwing Hakron over on to his ruined power pack. He slid down the slope of rubble into the street. He tried to move, his arms wouldn't respond to his commands. He knew his injury was too severe for even his regenerative powers to compensate for. He had already stopped bleeding from the wound in his side, the massive clot covered over organs half hanging out of his body.
Nothing would heal his damaged spine though. He was able to lift his head and saw the rampagers that had just destroyed his men run straight into a fusillade of heavy bolter fire. Men were blown apart by the massive rounds as they exploded among them.
Even the rampagers were not up for that and they fell back past Hakron's position. He envied the heavy squad, but only for a moment. In the fighting and with his injuries he hadn't noticed the fall of the drop pod.
Angron emerged from the still steaming transport. The heavy squad had to choose which threat to target and had chosen the rampagers as more likely to be killed, Hakron decided. They would regret it shortly.
With a bound Angron was on the side of the building and using his massive axes like picks, he pulled himself up and over the ruined wall where he fell among the loyalist heavies.
His feet had not yet touched the floor when the first limb flew from the building. It was not the last. Blood sprayed in all directions as the mighty Primarch dispatched the squad. The marines that had landed with him barely had time to strike a blow against the loyalist before the Red Angel had killed five of them.
As Angron jumped from the building his ax buried itself in the last of the loyalists and pulled him off slicing through him as it went down. The marine came apart before disappearing from Hakron's view.
The seekers had poked their heads around and were firing at Angron, although Hakron couldn't see the primarch from where he lay initially. The contemptor also moved up and fire at, and hit, the Primarch with his multi-melta. Angron was staggered from the massive weapon but came on and was soon among the seekers, if anything with more vehemence than that which he had displayed against the heavies.
In seconds it was over and the seekers lay shattered around him.
The contemptor had been attacked by other traitors and had dispatched two of them before Angron's axes bit into the machine's power fist severing from the arm.
Just then a massive explosion rocked the building next to them, causing it to come crashing into the street and separated the combatants. The dreadnought managed to get away in the dust and rubble that momentarily buried Angron.
"Hey, this one's still alive," Hakron heard from his left. He turned his head to see three of his former comrades standing around him looking down.
He tried to lift his hand but there was no response, the marine in front of him had no such problem and placed his chainsword next to Hakron's neck and it thrummed to life.
paints sci-fi British.
