Steel Rain

They came in a storm of iron.

The first sign that the Archenemy appeared was when the light cruiser, Purity of the Saint, vanished in a blinding cloud of plasma. All aboard the Imperial ship didn't even know what hit them. The torpedoes seem to come out of the warp, streaking toward the hapless Purity of the Saint like sharks gliding through the ancient seas of Terra, and tore her apart. To the inhabitants of Pyredra, the planet where the Purity of the Saint held in orbit, it was as if the night sky had lit up with the emergence of a second sun. The smoldering wreck of Purity of the Saint was snagged by gravity, beginning her slow descent onto Pyredra's barren surface and breaking up in the atmosphere.

The second sign was the storm of iron.

Hundreds of Dreadclaw drop pods and Thunderhawk gunships swooped down into the atmosphere of Pyredra, their hulls burning red-hot from entry. The skies of the forge world, so often polluted with the sulfurous yellow of smog vomitted from kilometers-high smoke stacks and massive manufactorums, was peppered with a gray rain of metal, piercing the thick, seemingly diseased clouds with impunity. All across the planet, garrisons came to life as the resident Astra Militarum regiments went onto high alert. Rotating in their steel holdings, Icarus lascannons barked to life, spewing ruby-red las-beams and vaporizing Dreadclaw drop pods, while anti-air autocannons roared their fury, pulverizing jinking Thunderhawk gunships into lifeless husks that spiralled helplessly to their doom.

But there were too many of them.

Those with a keen eye - General Minamoto Yoshitomo of the 724th Draconian Armored Defender Regiment, particularly - recognized the faded insignias that all the dreadclaws and Thunderhawks bore. The steely skull hammered crudely into a red plate. The dreaded logo of the Iron Warriors, Heretic Astartes who had turned their backs on the Emperor eons ago.

The Fourth Legion had come in force.

Mount Panoply was their first victim. The surviving Dreadclaws slammed into the edges of the ancient mountain, tearing great gouges out of its rocky hide. Iron doors slammed down, allowing the armored warriors within to spill out. The Pyredra Planetary Defense Force, the 56th regiment, that was garrisoned there was wiped out within an hour. Within two hours, the last cries for help over the vox had faded, and Mount Panoply had fallen. The Iron Warriors proceeded about their work in their usual, grim fashion, transforming the mountain into a fortress.

In their typical brutal efficiency, the Iron Warriors completed the construction of their fortress in a mere five hours, including shimmering void shields that overlapped their base in an impervious aegis. In the six hours that followed, barges and transports swooped down onto the Iron Warriors' newly constructed stronghold, depositing tanks and armored personnel carrier. One particualrly enormous barge held special passengers - a maniple of Titans. A Warlord, a Reaver and two Warhounds stepped out, their tortured machine-spirits shrieking for blood.

The Draconian 724th waited, knowing that an attack was imminent.

Eighteen hours after their first transport had touched Pyredra ground, the Iron Warriors attacked. Columns of armored vehicles, from tank-hunting Predators to heavily armored Land Raiders rolled across the plains, barreling toward the Fortis Fortress. Between the tanks were medium Rhino armored personnel carriers, ferrying the fearsome troops of the IV Legion. Vast war machines marched above them, the fell Titans of Legio Mortis bearing weapons that could level entire cities. Their combined weight and numbers kicked up a storm of dust that billowed for kilometers.

"What should we do, General?"

Minamoto glanced up at his subordinate's question. Colonel Kaneda was pale, having witnessed the full might of the Iron Warriors mustered against them. Without Titan allies, without the Emperor's Angels of Death to back them up, the 724th armored regiment was their own. Two Imperial Knights from House Yato had been seconded to their forces, but even the hulking war-machines were dwarfed by the maniple of Titans.

The General's eyes flickered to the holographic display in front of him. Against about a thousand Iron Warriors and dozens of Heretic Astartes tanks, he had about a hundred thousand men and ten thousand tanks. Against any other foe, he would be confident of victory.

However, this was no ordinary foe. Even as tainted as they were, the Iron Warriors were once vaunted Astartes, genengineered by the Emperor Himself for the sole purpose of war. They were an enemy like no other, thriving in conflict and invincible against mortals. Even as numerous as his regiment was, even though they vastly outnumbered the Iron Warriors, Minamoto knew they were not enough. Against an opponent of the IV Legion's caliber, he would need a million men and a hundred thousand tanks. And even then, those numbers might not be enough to prevail.

"Major Tsukiyama, contact Mr. Astoflo." Tsukiyama pursed his lips when he heard the order, not at all keen to speak to the regimental astropath. Minamoto ignored his reluctance. There was much more at stake here than the Major's obvious discomfort. "Tell him to call for reinforcements. From the nearest sectors or fleet, anywhere...as long as we get help."

The moment the command staff heard that, they fell silent. Every single one of them knew that was a death sentence. With the advent of the Cicatrix Maledictum, the galaxy had been split into half. Choirs of Astropaths were unable to transmit their messages, and even if they could, there was no guarantee that Imperial reinforcements would arrive in time...if at all. Especially given how unpredictable the warp was, and how there was no longer any stable route through it after the fall of Cadia.

Even so, Minamoto knew that his men must fulfill their duty to the Emperor.

"Sir," Kaneda began hesitantly, shooting a wary glance at Commissar Holt. The Commissar said nothing, staying rooted in his corner like a statue since his arrival eight hours ago. If Minamoto hadn't seen him walk in, he would have thought that the man was a statue. "It is possible that we won't receive reinforcements at all...at least, not before we..."

"I know. But we have to try."

Kaneda swallowed, and after another fearful glance at Holt, bravely ventured.

"But what happens if nobody don't come to our aid?"

"We fight," he replied simply. Then, as he assessed his regiment's strengths, he began drawing up plans for deployment. "The Iron Warriors are famed masters of siege. We cannot allow them to siege our fortress. We go out and meet them in the field of battle."

He turned his gaze over his command staff, none of whom found the heart to argue against their inevitable fate. His anxieties were gone now, replaced with a burning fury. These heretics...these traitors who had dared betray the Heavenly Emperor had set foot upon the planet his regiment was assigned to protect, and he would be damned if he didn't do anything about it. They might lose, but he was going to make sure the Iron Warriors paid highly for it...both in blood and in iron.

"We will fight them to the last man, if necessary. We will harry them and damage them so badly that they will regret ever coming down here to face the 724th. We'll ensure that they pay a high cost in taking this forge world...one that isn't worth it."

No one argued. Everyone was determined now, focusing on their consoles and settling logistics and deployment.

"Another question, sir."

This time it was Captain Noda, the intelligence officer. He looked at his commander quzzically.

"The Iron Warriors...what are they here for?"

He had spoken out loud the unasked question in everyone else's minds. For a moment, Minamoto glanced away. Perhaps Inquisitor Tanizaki would have an answer, but the man who attached himself to the 724th was missing despite the high alert and wailing klaxons. Then again, Inquisitors were a mysterious breed, and who knew what Tanizaki was up to?

Perhaps whatever the Iron Warriors came for has got something to do with the Inquisitor.

A sudden chill came over Minamoto when that thought drifted into his mind. Suspicion followed, and he turned to Major Tsukiyama. Before he could order the latter to vox Tanizaki, his voice froze in his throat when something brushed past his ear.

...hissing, breathing...

Minamoto blinked. There was a shadow in front of him, hovering right on the edge of the command center. It was vaguely human, yet it wasn't human at all...its form seemed to writhe and shift, yet he couldn't make out its shape. Except for a mouth in what seemed to be its head, a hole that opened and revealed two rows of sharp teeth...

"I see you..."

Minamoto could almost feel the thing's cold breath on his cheek, even though it was so far away. He froze, his hand hovering over his antique plasma pistol, but for some reason his limbs locked up and he was unable to move.

"They...see you..."

The voice seemed to crawl over his body, giving him goosebumps. Minamoto tried to open his mouth, tried to form words, but nothing came out.

"The darkness...they've come for...the...darkness...the darkness present in all our hearts...the darkness of the Imperium, so dark, so dark, so dark...I can't see...I see...I can't see...I see everything!"

Then something analogous to eyes opened up, twin abysses of cruel despair and Minamoto felt like he was falling forever...

"Sir?"

He blinked and shook his head. His command staff was staring at him. His throat suddenly dry, Minamoto swallowed and tried to move his lips.

"No, nothing." He shook his head again to clear it, and then hardened his gaze. He had no idea what that was, but he couldn't show his vulnerabilities to his subordinates. Not when he was about to lead them to battle against overwhelming odds. "I was thinking maybe Inquisitor Tanizaki has the answer. But it might be quite simple, really. Pyredra is a forge world possessing vast reserves of promethium and material. Any force that captures her manufacturing capabilities would be able to churn out enough war machines to conquer an entire sector."

Noda nodded briefly, accepting the answer. Even Holt seemed to cock his head in approval. With the enemy's motive seemingly clear, the men knew they could not allow Pyredra to fall into the hands of the Iron Warriors, or the entire Pyredrian Sector would be in peril.

However, one man alone remained unnerved. Colonel Kaneda had glanced in the direction that General Minamoto was staring in for a few moments earlier, and he had also seen something. No, someone. But an impossible someone, for his wife had been dead for years.

Yet, there she was, standing there with a horned mask forged out of ancient tradition that continued on to the present in their homeworld Draconis III, only that it was her face yet not her face and everything was blending together...

Closing his eyes, Kaneda exhaled before forcing his mind back to duty. The anxiety from the impending Iron Warriors attack must be getting to him, causing him to hallucinate from the tremendous amount of stress. One way or another, this would be over soon. The question was how much he would be able to serve the Heavenly Emperor before he met Him.

Behind him, the shadowy figure that was his wife yet wasn't his wife continued to watch impassively.