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It's been a really long time since the last Commissar Steve story, and I've just been stumped by how to continue this story. Read the below manuscript and give suggestions. Cheers.

The strange corpse-gas that cloaked Mardregore obscured the very ground as the Promethean 653rd trudged on through the hauntingly empty streets of Golgenna Hive. Captain Manfred of the Strum Soldat admitted to himself that he was beyond fear now. He had faced some truly horrible things in his fifteen years of service, but this, this was something unlike anything he had ever fought before. Orks were brutal, savage, and often took entire clips of ammunition to down, but still they died. The things that stalked the streets of Golgenna Hive were already dead, their dead flesh hanging in long strips from their hungry mouths. It seemed not to matter how many rounds you put into them, they still shambled foreword, hungry. His squad had been sent by Commissar Rudiger to an abandoned cathedral, it's massive gothic spires abounded with small statuettes of the Emperor and his children, the Primarchs. Once, songs of devotion could be heard pouring from it, filling the hearts of the loyal with hope and joy. Now it was as dead as the things that sought to kill them in the streets. It's once beautiful stained glass windows smashed, and the miasma had filled the house of worship just as it had choked the entire planet. Manfred was not a devout man, but that did not keep him from muttering a prayer to the Emperor as he and his squad of highly trained Strum Soldat entered the cathedral. Sweeping out from the shattered doors, the squad leveled their hellguns and moved to cover the windows. Manfred was dull to fear now, since they had been called here, he had felt nothing but fear. Now fear was like an old friend, he came to expect it around every mist shrouded corner and every empty building. Today was no different. Manfred had his orders, sweep the surrounding buildings and eliminate any hostiles in the area. Moving through the broken, blood-stained pews, Manfred heard Murich give out a cry of alarm. Stumbling hungrily over the pulpit was the rotting shell of a Ministorum preacher, his robes wet with rot and corruption. Ludendorf casually blew out the back of it's head with his hellgun, before he himself gave a shout. Flocking from the upper pews came at least twenty cherubic choir-servitors, their wings balding and slicked with necrotic pus. Swooping upon the startled Prometheans, they opened their gangrenous mouthes and howled, a low ragged sound that expelled small black flies into the air. Firing their hellguns at the things, the Strum Soldat formed a circle, preventing the horrors from flanking them. The undead cherubs dived upon them, tearing into the Imperials with rotted teeth, taking chunks of flesh with them as they rose again to feed. Manfred was attacked by three of the infantile grotesques that latched onto his arms and legs, little teeth gnawing at his armour. He could hear the screams of his squad as they were devoured, hear the awful crunching and slurping the things were making. As their screams died, the rotting cherubs descended upon Manfred, pulling away his armour to get to the soft flesh inside. Manfred screamed as he was torn apart by the unholy flock, their gibbering driving him mad. As his view on the world dimmed, he saw the dead Strum Soldat rise to their feet with wet moans and shamble over to him to join in the feast.

Lieutenant Commissar Rudiger looked out upon the wasted Upper Hive, taking the sight of the broken and toppled spires that once housed the hive's elite. The Prometheans had recently cleared the rotting spires of the walking dead, their awful moaning forever silenced. Rudiger was slightly worried, Manfred's Strum Soldat had not responded to his hails for hours, but with the fog, it was hard to truly tell if they had not received his message, or something more sinister. His thoughts were interrupted by shouting coming from the remains of a ruined building that once held posh apartments. "Here they come again, hold the line!" The line was punctuated by the tattoo of autogun fire and the whine of chainswords. Racing towards the apartments, Rudiger revved the chainblade attached to his lightning-claw, and drew his plasma pistol. As he rounded the corner and entered the stairwell, he noticed the most peculiar thing; the sounds of combat had stopped. Running even faster for fear of a sinister turn in events, Rudiger reached the lobby, where he was confronted by a stupefying sight. The roof of the apartment had been removed, and an angelic being clad in shining golden armour with handsome feathered wings appeared before a crowd of shocked Prometheans. In a voice sweet as honey, he spoke; "Children of the Emperor I greet you. I am Saint Menazzer, sent by our Father Himself to guide your Holy Crusade against the Ruinous Powers. Come forth and be blessed." One by one, the Prometheans fell prostrate and knelt to Menazzer, prayers of the supplicant spoken in High Gothic spilled from their lips.

Commissar General Steve was not a happy man. his scouting forces had disappeared, and now Rudiger failed to respond to his hails. Something was wrong here, Rudiger always promptly answered his vox, so where the feth was he? With his superb hearing, Steve could hear droning prayer coming from the eastern part of the upper hives. His men had no time for prayer! The death of the enemy came first, they knew that. Following the prayer, Steve found himself overlooking the entirety of his men kneeling prostrate to a rotting angel clad in corroded golden armour, his wings balding and skeletal. His men would never bow down to this...this thing! Trickery was at work here. He would put an end to that...

Rudiger had never been more happy in his life, he had finally found purpose in his life. The Saint had shown him a vision of the Imperium crumbling and a golden angel who wore atop his head three emerald crowns would come to restore order and sanity to a fallen galaxy. Menazzer had told the Prometheans to follow him on a pilgrimage, to spread the Emperor's gifts and to preach the word of the Grandfather of Mankind. The Saint had told him that at the end of the Great Work, he and his comrades would absorbed into the Emperor, and he would know peace. Blinking tears out of his eyes, Rudiger looked once again upon the perfect form of Saint Menazzer, just in time to see Commissar Steve grapple the angel in midair and then proceeded to unload his storm bolter into the face of the godly being.

Cool