Demios was a fortress built to withstand the punishment of the planet it was built on.

Far on the western fringe of the galaxy, it was the only settlement on the planet that shared its name; Demios VI. It was the farthest from its small blue sun, rendering it, for the most part, a horrible frozen wasteland covered in perpetual darkness. That was when Demios VI was stable. Constant tectonic turmoil ripped the skin of the planet open, spilling the planets molten core to the surface in deep cuts of light before it scabbed over into jagged, igneous mountains, which were then frozen over for the process to repeat.

The Demios system would be an integral to supply lines running through the western edge of the galaxy, and had stable warp routes, in contrast to the state of the planets themselves. The surface of the planet was of little value, too abused to be more than a stepping stone, but the fortress would allow for minerals to be collected from the planet before being sent up to orbiting shipyards for repairs.

There were signs that other fortresses had been built on Demios VI, but only the one remained, its singular name was a testament to it being as tough as the planet it was built on. It's walls had been rooted deep into the planets core, and branches of thick cabling extended for kilometers, grounding it like the oak trees of Old Terra. A complicated series of overlapping void shields protected it from debris ejected from the planet as its surface ripped apart and massive geothermal vents directed the planets internal turmoil from under the fortress to the surrounding areas, leaving Demios as a safe haven in the planet's violent spasms.

Demios was a fortress built to withstand the punishment of the planet it was built on.

And it was burning.

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It was rare that Candax found anything that drowned out the sound of the IVth legions pounding artillery, but the roar of the planet ripping itself apart almost made him forget there was a siege in progress.

Notifications flashed in his helm that the artillery would be moving its targets forward in 20 minuets, and he would have to run out of the trenches to begin digging the new line 100 meters up. He began stretching, cracking the ice that had accumulated on his armour since he had moved last, which he swore hadn't been long.

"Throne, the cold almost makes you wish for some of that molten rock to come through here" he said over his vox, not risking taking off his helmet. The ground was the stablest as the planet turned away from its sun, but it was also when it was the coldest. Even his transhuman body had difficulties dealing with those temperatures for an extended period of time.

"Lets hear you say that again in two days when this damn planet turns around again" came a reply, and though it was coming right into his ear, Candax could barely hear it over the howl of the wind and the rumbling of distant earthquakes. Demios VI had a 20 Terran day-night cycle; ten days of pitch black and freezing temperatures followed by ten days of earthquakes as it turned to face the sun and heal the wounds on the other side. The change took less than a day in between, and the Iron Warriors had found it nearly impossible to keep the siege up during the earthquakes. This frustrated the Warsmiths as they tried to orchestrate their assault, giving the fortress periods to repair and retaliate while the Iron Warriors were forced to keep there heads down.

They were of course adapted to this type of prolonged warfare, but the three years of siege had seen little progress at the expense of many resources. Entire armoured columns of artillery had slid into chasms of molten earth as the ground cracked beneath them. That had been when the Warsmiths had decided sieges would have to stop during the earthquakes, in favour of orbital bombardment. But the void shields of Demios had been tested time and time again by the planet and not found wanting. Bombardment had pushed its defenses, but the process was still slower than desired.

The trenches had been hell as usual. The guns of the IVth were strong, but the defenders knew their planet well and were devastating with whatever might they could muster. Candax knew that the expenditures must be at least two full companies of Iron Warriors. They moved forward what seemed like inches every day.

His helm flashed 5:00 and his vox hissed to life again.

"Alright 64th company!" barked his captain over the link "Fire is moving up in T minus five, when we will run up to the next line and dig in. This will be the line we hold through the next disruption period so I want it solid! Bunkers at these locations with two depots here and here"

Candax read as diagrams, markers, and schematics ran down his visor. 64th company's line was flanked by the 63rd and 66th. 65th company was supposed to spearhead the wall of trenches and artillery, but they had suffered an increasing number of losses, so the 64th and 66th had been forced to spread thin to make up for the lost ground. They were beginning to fall behind, breaking the tight front the Iron Warriors had once made around the fortress.

"Sir" came a response from a warrior Candax hadn't bothered knowing "we don't have enough men left to dig the second depot between us and the 63rd"

There was silence over the vox and Candax cursed. This captain had only replaced his predecessor during the last period of siege, and Candax wondered how far down the list the Warsmiths had had to go to find the next most qualified warrior. This captain might have been no more than a simple line soldier like him.

4:00 and Candax cracked the ice off his armour again, checking his bolter with near mechanical precision. With the bright flashes of artillery fire lighting the deep night, Candax could see snapshots of his battle-brothers doing the same as they pressed against the trench, ready to sprint. Machine gun fire raked the edge of the trench as the defenders detected the increased activity. Candax saw the bodies of the Legionnaires that had died in the trench, buried in snow so they seemed to form the ground he stood on.

Stim-chemicals pumped through his body as he prepped his demo-charges.

"Three minuets; throw the charges!" the captain yelled as the warriors chucked the charges forward. These would detonate and provide the initial ditch for the 64th company to start digging in and creating the fortifications for the new front line. They blew in unison and the sudden brightness left a high contrast image of the trench in his visor as it attempted to adjust to the drastic change in light. Candax tried to blink away the stain, grimly noticing that the black-and-white image showed little difference between the warriors about to charge forward and those lying in the frozen ground.

Vision returned as the artillery fire behind him intensified; one last bombardment before moving the line forwards. the counter switched to seconds, quickly counting down from 120.

The chant began over his vox "From Iron, cometh Strength. From Strength, cometh Will. From Will, cometh Faith. From Faith, cometh Honour. From Honour, cometh -" The chanting of the warriors slowly stopped as they listened to the sounds of the battle around them. It was silence.

The artillery had stopped. It seemed like all sound on the terrible planet was muted for a moment and Candax was sure he'd been shot. The timer was still counting down; 74. 73. 72. What had happened? The artillery needed to pound the fortress to cover the advance on the warriors, so why had they stopped? Then, a roar began from behind the artillery, slowly like a wave from an ocean, growing loader and loader.

Confusion filled the vox, but the roar drowned them all out. The sky lit up as an intense rain of orbital fire fell upon the fortress. The Iron Warriors in the trenches looked up, lit by the fire streaking down through the clouds of wind and ice. That was more fire than the orbiting fleet could have produced, how had they brought such power to bear so suddenly? The roar grew from behind the line and Candax turned away from the fortress just in time to see the source fly over him. Thunderhawks.

"Bastards." he cursed as they blew over the trenches, whipping up dirt and snow. Even through all the debris Candax could make out sigils on their sides - black fists stamped in contrast to the dark yellow of their hulls; Imperial Fists. Every warrior in the trenches watched as the aircraft flew towards the fortresses walls, just as the sustained orbital fire shattered its void shields, unable to reform under the sustained barrage. Smaller streaks of fire rained down into the heart of the fortress; drop pods, filled with VIIIth Legionnaires. The defenders of Demios hadn't expected such an intense ariel assault, and small arms fire could be seen flashing on the walls of the fortress. Larger guns were slowly brought around to new targets, but the assault of the Imperial Fists was too fast.

Fighting had no doubt already begun within the city walls as the timer reached 0:00, but nobody left the trenches. Three years of calculated siege had softened Demios, but glory would go to the Imperial Fists as the entire front of the IVth legion stood in silence outside of the burning fortress, watching the fruits of their labour get swept away from them. Were they being shamed? Had the siege taken too long, cost too much? Had the Emperor not been satisfied - not been satisfied as the Iron Warriors broke their backs and died on the frozen wastelands of this backwater planet.

Candax's confusion turned to rage as he clenched his armoured fists, letting the snow and dust settle on his armour as he stood, defiantly facing the burning city and the forces that descended upon it. He looked down at the dead brothers frozen into the earth, and was glad they couldn't know that they had died for so little.