A song to those killed on IstvaanA song to those killed on IstvaanA song to those killed on Istvaan by avdotia500
To them is the city that burns like a candle,
And ceramit’s crackle that is like a prayer,
The Titan’s steps are like a hundred bells tolling,
To them who are winners in a lost battle.
Their shadows are drowned in the dusk of Empire,
Their choice is their loyalty’s shard with sharp edges.
Their deed won’t be set in the stones of their Legion,
Of brotherhood lost, and of trust that’s betrayed.
Their voices are carried away by the wings
Of black breath of plague that dances above them
And sings and screeches the sacred old saying,
"Go there and look," be your eyes not averted.
Their father has left them no hope and no justice
And they have no longer desire for mercy.
A family never forgets and nothing’s forgiven,
A family crushes like no enemies could.
For you Istvaan has become the last barrow,
The latest reward for your loyalty endless,
A gift in the dust from formidable tyrant
Who thinks he’s a savior but he
Adeptus Mechanicus: Welcome to the Machine..::Interview XIX::..Adeptus Mechanicus: Welcome to the Machine by sciencevsart
Interviewee: Tech-Magos Eighty-Five "The Fatherboard"
What gender are you?
++I believe I am male. It is, however, open to interpretation.++
What is your age?
Do you want a hug?
++No. You do not, either.++
Do you have any bad habits?
++I watch... everything.++
What is your favourite food?
++Given I can no longer taste, there is little to enjoy. A shame, really.++
What is your favourite ice-cream flavour?
++What is that?++
Are you a virgin?
++Depends on your definition of v- uh, I mean, no.++
Who did you -
++I will kill you.++
Have you killed anyone?
++Entire worlds, my dear organic. Men and women, loyal and heretical, human and alien - I have killed more than I have both
It grows from IdlenessChapter 1It grows from Idleness by JaxFenrile
The Emperor knows I’ve been in tough situations before, having survived the third Armageddon war, acting diplomat with the Sam-Hahn Eldars, nearly a century of mostly faithful and dedicated service to the Imperium, but what we experienced on Akanci.
That is a memory I sometimes wish I could remove. The nightmare we had to live through, nothing in the Infantryman’s handbook could have prepared us for what we faced that day.
I had been tossing and turning the morning I would receive my new orders. Flashbacks of the war on Armageddon kept me awake that night. The smell of holy promethium in the air while bolter and las rounds blazing through the jungle. The sound of those green skins howling and wailing as they ripped into my comrades and that horrible unmistakable sound they make. They called it the “Wagh”: a primal shout of sorts, with an unseen force that they all fed off of in a frenzy of blades and bullets.
Too long have I been stationed here,