Lord Mologomus sat atop a throne hewn from the bones both the invading Moldorians and the Promethean defenders. Looking out upon the ruins of Hephaestus Hive, once, it had been the jewel of Prometheus. A massive foundry city that churned out weapons and war machines for the Promethean army. Those days were long past. Atop his throne in the ruins of the former Commissariat Tower, the tallest building in the hive, he considered his victory. It had cost him a disproportionate number of troops and war machines in the invasion, the base born Prometheans fought to the bitter end, and still did in some places if the reports were to believed. It had been four years since Mologomus had set foot on Prometheus, since he had crushed the lap dogs of the False Emperor. It seemed that there was little to sully his inevitable victory, but something nagged him on the edges of his mind. Commissar General Steve was not reported among the dead. Rumors had placed him on the the Triton moon, but such tales turned out to be false. While Steve still drew breath, Mologomus knew, his Black Crusade, and his very life was at stake. He felt the wound on his face, the one he had received four years ago on the eve of the invasion.
Commissar General Steve spun like a dervish from ancient Earth, cutting and slashing with Motivatus. Limbs and heads toppled from torsos as blood pumped from the wounds furiously, soaking Steve with gore. Punching through the torso of an Aspiring Champion and removing his vertebrae, Steve lashed out with the spine like a whip, cracking it through the carapace of a Chaos dreadnought, killing the entombed warrior instantly. Glancing up at an advancing Banelord titan, Steve ran to meet it. Using his manly fists, he punched dents in the armor, creating hand holds in the warp-steel. Climbing at a furious pace, he reached the "head" of the Banelord.
He was a god. The ground trembled with every step. Men cried out in terror at his approach, entire worlds had burned at his whim. Nothing could stop the march of the Banelord. Death and terror followed in his wake, it would be no different on this world. He had piloted his daemon machine since the Horus Heresy, then it was called the Dies Irae. Once, it was instrument of the Corpse God's vengeance. Now it was bent to a new purpose, to topple the Imperium that it had once helped build. This world would burn, this world would fall to the forces of Cha- "What in the name of all that is impure is that?!" A Promethean Commissar had somehow climbed to the head of the Banelord and was now pressed against the glass, raising a single fist. Upon contact with the glass, the fist sent shards of glittering silver flying throughout the command cabin. Leaping through the broken viewport, the Commissar collided with the man who fancied himself a god. Crushing his chest like a bag of tinder, the Commissar lifted him aloft and brought him down upon one knee, driving the life out of the Princeps with a final gasp and a bony crunch.
Steve was shot like a streaking comet entering the atmosphere from the Banelord's Volcano Cannon, causing the very air to tremble at the eruption of flame and starfire. Steve had aimed well, causing him to collide directly with the Chaos commander, creating a sizable crater with his impact. To Steve's surprise (mind you the first time he had ever experienced the emotion), the smoking champion stood back up. Letting out a cry of inhuman rage, the champion swung his massive, flaming blade at Steve. Steve caught the burning sword between his hands, trying to push the blade back at the heretic. The heretic growled, and pushed back. Caught in a stalemate, Steve pushed forward with all his might and elbowed the champion in the face, throwing his hood back, and revealing his face. "PILGRIM!?" Steve shouted/asked. "I
AM MOLOGOMUS!" The Pilgrim of Hate cried as he punched Steve across the face. Steve responded with a blow that normally would have punched through Mologomus' torso, but only winded the former Acolyte. Wrapping his huge arms around the Commissar, Mologomus squeezed. Steve actually felt pain, an entirely new feeling for him, as he cried out as his spine was crushed. Steve drew his head back and slammed it back into the Pilgrim's nose, spreading his nose across his face in a gory eruption. Dropping Steve, Mologomus stumbled back, clutching his shattered face. Steve wasted no time, hooking the Pilgrim in the face again and again. Forming his right index finger into a hook, Steve quickly drew it across Mologomus' eyes, scooping out his left. The Pilgrim howled and flung Steve away, clutching at his face. Steve landed in a bomb crater, winding him. Mologomus was upon him in an instant, pounding his fists into Steve's face and torso, shattering bones and rupturing flesh. Steve brought up his foot, flipping Mologomus head over heels out of the crater. Painfully, Steve got to his feet, and shakily drew Motivatus, preparing to slay the traitor. Mologomus was quick, even on the brink of death, narrowly avoiding the decapitating blow, rolling with it to draw a long deep trench into his flesh, spraying his lifeblood onto Steve. As it tore across his face, it opened his cheek, exposing his teeth as it cut away most of his face, and disfiguring it further as the power field melted his flesh and burned away his hair. Just as Steve raised his blade to se it through, an explosion ripped through the battlefield, hurling him through the air, and Steve knew no more.
Continued in Attack Of The Commissar
Ravenous Angels 
Tomb Kings 
Protectorate of Menoth 
