Iron of Blood
Acid and the iron of blood filled the apothecary’s mouth. Its sting takes him into an ecstatic high and greater predatory focus. He pulled his blood-soaked chainsword out of the dying space marine. He looked down the parapet, gazing with relish at his creations. His sons. Gene-forged with his science and touched by the warp. His transhuman senses detected the whining engine of a jump pack and he reacted instantaneously, but even that was slow. A black clad space marine bodied him to the ground. Ceramite and rockcrete shattered, falling on the combatants below. Even before he could swing his chainsword, his attacker had already lunged into the air carrying him. He felt shame at the thought of being carried like a lifeless doll. Pathetic. “I am Sahar, Captain of the Blades of Lament. Loyal son of Sanguinius.” The beaked helm spoke. “Dregs like you are not worthy of my blade, yet duty compells me to thrust it into your traitor hearts!” It’s ancient power sword activated. Blue lightning reflected the ones painted on the Night Lord’s armor. The Night Lord apothecary grinned behind his winged helm. He couldn’t wait to take the captain’s geneseed and experiment with it.
Commission for @nostraman_butchers_ @hawkman_hobbies
