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There were no explosions, no missiles fired down from space. Just men fighting with swords. And while they did not seem to wield weapons designed by some ancient civilization, they fought well enough. They knew how to move together as a team. We had superior technology, but our opponents possessed discipline and martial spirit.
This made him wonder why they hadn't been wiped out centuries ago. Perhaps it was because of … he shakes his head, trying to clear these thoughts away. His focus needs to be fixed on the enemy ahead.
However compared to the psyker, they were only small fishes. He could indulged a bit of fun.
***
As the last of the men fall, the XXI turns to the fortified Door of the Macedon HQ.
Unbreakable. Yet it would broke. To fail would mean the end of everything. Humanity needed the unity now more than ever. So many lost over the years.
He knew that now here they stood, surrounded by enemies. The last bastion. But still, everywhere Macedonians fought, the allied Kin seemingly not disposed to grant them much mercy. Still, they hold out hope. Even in defeat, they have faith that victory awaits. He may not believe in the Imperial truth but this faith he would extinguish. He was the death of hope and it's rebirth. Damned sounded like the Phoenician, the pimp Fulgrim.
"For the League!" shouted the Primarch.
And so began the final assault.
His sword raised high, the Primarch steps forward into the room. His body glows faintly blue.
Men around him look up at the Primarch with awe and respect. It seems like ages since the Primarch has walked among mere mortals. In moments, the primarch stepped forth and shatter the door. Once inside, the slaughter begun.
***
>XXI View after the Battle
Around Macedon voxcasts broadcasted.
"Men of Macedon. I am Phi Thionson, Primarch of the XXI, General of Karak Ankor Zul"
