Der Gesichtsschlag
des Kaisers' guns were the very embodiment of the rage of a god. Scores of Gospel of Hate marines were reduced to crimson mist by the battle-fortresses vulcan pattern mega-bolters or crushed under it's mighty treads. Even the smaller Predator pattern tanks of the Gospel of Hate were ground into the Promethean soil by the endless advance the Promethean 653rd and their god-tank. Lord Militant Kugelshrieber led the armored division from within the god-tank Der Gesichtsschlag
des Kaisers, opening a huge breach in the defenses of Hephaestus Hive, allowing the infantry led by Commissar General Steve to storm through the city. The Cleansing of Prometheus had begun.
It was glorious. That was the only word that Commissar General Steve could think of that would even compare to this crusade. The Prometheans fought like men possessed, carving a bloody swath through the heretic defenders, cleansing all with sword and fire. Captain Desetch tackled a Herald of Khorne and proceeded to jam his chainsword deep through his helm, sending blood gushing up the length of the whirling teeth in an arterial shower. Crunchy the Ogryn shot a heretic in the unprotected face with his ripper, causing his head and torso to peel away from each other, splattering all nearby in a shower of limbs. Private Stansfield did his best to snipe a sorcerer from afar, sticking out his tongue in concentration all the while, missed, and shot himself in the foot. Commissar Steve tore the jaw off a noise marine, and used it to brutally slay the rest of the squad. A missile shrieked towards him, a missile normally reserved for blowing holes in super-heavy tanks. With incredible speed, Steve stepped out of the way of the projectile, and snatched it midair. Fighting against the immense force the krak missile was exerting, he hurled the explosive back at the artillery piece that fired it towards him. The missile streaked back towards the cannon that originally fire it. Upon contact, the artillery piece was lifted into the air for a great distance before crashing back to earth, crushing seven whole squads of Gospel of Hate terminators, their screams of alarm cut short as the massive gun crushed them all beneath it's tremendous weight. Steve spotted a sorcerer calling force purple-black warp lightning that caused the flesh to burst in a gory shower wherever it touched. Steve raced towards the sorcerer, avoiding the bolts of energy fired from the witch's hands. Just before he reached the heretic however, the sorcerer gave a slight gasp as a blurred shape flipped in front of him. His body still erect, his head fell with a dull thud to the scorched earth beneath him, a fountain of red ichor spurted from the stump. A cackle split the air as a slender Eldar in jester's garb landed lightly in front of Steve, his face painted black and gold. "The Laughing God sends his regards. You have gained his favor as well as infuriating She Who Thirsts. May Cegorach watch over you, Mon'keigh." With that, the harlequin flipped away back into the fray, like a butcher-ballerina, leaving limbs separated from torsos, and heads sheared from their necks. Steve watched as black and gold clad Eldar cut their way through the Gospel of Hate marines. "Warriors of the Mael-Dannan, fight for your lost craftworlds! For your families! Kill all for Khaine! Let the Bloody Handed God know his own!" shouted a farseer that hovered above the battlefield, calling down bolts of lighting upon the foe. Seven Avatars charged out into the fray, their molten feet melting the ground into slag, their swords burning the flesh away from corrupted bone. Behind them Eldar hovercraft of all types skimmed across the Hive, cutting away swaths of the enemy before their guns. Wraithguard blew holes in reality with their wraithcannons, causing Chaos marines to pop like overripe fruit. The Prometheans let out a cheer as the Gospel of Hate was routed, and began to fall back to the Commissariat Tower. Thousands of traitor marines lay dead where they had fallen, the wounded summarily executed, or crushed under the colossal treads of the god-tank Der Gesichtsschlag
des Kaisers. The Mael-Dannan farseer lowered himself gently to the ground, and walked lightly towards Steve. "I am called Myrddin Aed, farseer of the Mael-Dannan. We have come to aid you in the liberation of your world from Chaos." said the Eldar. "WHY?! HOW DOES
IT SERVE YOUR CRAFTWORLD
TO HELP A BAND OF IMPERIALS!?" yelled/asked Steve. The farseer inclined his head, "We are not one craftworld, but many. The Mael-Dannan is formed out of the Eldar whose craftworlds were destroyed. We deliver justice to the enemies of the Eldar in all their myriad forms. The strands of fate led us to the Gospel of Hate and your world. We were pursuing them for their crimes against one of our component craftworlds." Before Steve could respond, a voice cried out. "Here they come again! Hold the line!"
The explosion lifted Steve off his feet, before crushing him back to earth. He stood to see Mologomus and the last of the Gospel of Hate marines sallying forth from the Commissariat Tower, madness in their eyes. Mologomus knew that his invasion had failed, but he would make the Promethean's victory sour. Steve raced to meet the Pilgrim of Hate head on, with both Stansfield and Desetch by his side. Stansfield tripped on a corpse, and knocked himself unconscious, Captain Desetch let out a war cry as he matched blades with Mologomus. The Chaos Lord lazily batted him aside, knocking the Captain unconscious. Motivatus and hell-forged steel met in a shower of sparks, as both combatants came face to face, with less than an inch away from them. "FEAR ME, FOR YOUR DEATH IS
AT HAND!!!" Steve cried as he broke out of the lock and met the Pilgrim of Hate in a test of blades. Swift as lightning, Motivatus descended upon Mologomus' right arm, severing the limb and showering Steve with crimson rain. Mologomus screamed as he dropped to the pavement, his stump pumping arterial fluid furiously onto the earth. But he was not yet dead. lifting his left hand, he closed around Steve's throat, lifting the Commissar off his feet and beginning to choke the life out of him. Steve's vision swam as he lost vital air, he was dying. His foot shot out, catching Mologomus in the throat, causing him to lose his grip and release Steve. Charging the Pilgrim of Hate, leveling his blade to deal the killing blow, just as he did four years ago. As he prepared to plunge Motivatus down into the heretic, he felt an intense pain. Looking down, he saw the hell-forged sword of Mologomus deep in his chest. Coughing up blood and filling his gas mask with the red fluid, Steve dropped to his knees, with the blade imbedded between his breastbone. The world turned red, as Steve was blinded by his own blood as the gas mask filled. He fell to the ground, spasmed twice, and fell still. Commissar General Steve was dead.
Continued?
Ravenous Angels 
Tomb Kings 
Protectorate of Menoth 
