CAPTAIN TITUS PROLOGUE
"And They Shall Know No Fear"
The sound of thunder and iron in the distance seemed quiet from where he stood - or, rather, kneeled. The 'ground' beneath his boots was naught but light and smoke, a bridge of rainbows that stretched between jagged chunks of land floating in the void. Such an image laid bare before he was interesting, to say the least, as he recalled hearing words of rainbow bridges and halls of valor and glory playing a vital role in the most ancient if human traditions. So old, in fact, not many are aware that men had believed in anything but the Emperor.
The Space Wolves, what little he knew of them, would be overjoyed at the opportunity to be doing His work at a locale such as this. Those were always far more loose with their emotions than the others. Now too eager to speak their mind and reject codes and traditions if it imposed any limit upon their ability to do battle and cut victory from the jaws of the enemy.
For a while, he thought such a thing to be foolish. A Space Marine without order is no real Space Marine - that order teaches any self-respecting marine to hold honor and duty above all else. Bathing the stars in blood was righteous and just as it was doing His work, so said the preachers and pious men of Holy Terra.
Peace was never an option. But neither is genocide.
Is that heresy? There are men with much power who would say so. If He Himself would like to rise from His Golden Throne and speak otherwise... He is more than welcome to.
It's amusing - funny, even - to be thinking about all of that that now, in this place, with all the notches and cuts bored deep within the plates and pauldrons of his mind and body.
Because only now does Captain Titus realize that the wolves were right all along.
They shall know no fear.
Words from the Emperor Himself. For the past several decades, Titus has been doing precisely that.
A strong smell of sulfur was enough to stir the marine out of his prayer, his eyes peeling open to see a blue boot and a knee firmly placed on a rainbow bridge. Titus grimaced, as he is oft to do recently, squeezing the handle of the jagged mechanical blade - the tried-and-true chainsword - and pulling it out from the nonexistent ground. The mountainous space marine rose from his kneeling position like a titan, standing tall enough to see distant figures darting about in the distance, muzzle flashes consuming their frames.
The situation seemed run-of-the-mill, enough that Titus was willing to pray in such an exposed position. A headshot doesn't seem very threatening anymore; either because it won't kill him, or because he doesn't care if it does kill him. In any case, the Space Marine silently turned on a dime, the mechanized joints in his power armor whirring with every massive step he made returning to the rest of the gathered Coalition forces.
"Then it is clear that our focus must be split evenly in both quality and quantity if we are anticipating the enemy to pose heavy opposition on all fronts," a baritone voice rumbled from the armor-clad marine as the two commanders finished their reports.
"I trust that you are all far more valuable in war than you look."
The captain maintained his stony expression as he patrolled past any of the characters he'd just indirectly insulted, getting a better look at the fighting in the distance.
The multiverse, as Titus understood it since his Discovery of many years ago, seemed to belch all manners of beings, some human, some aliens, and some who would be executed on sight if they found themselves on the average imperial world. The ex-Ultramarine learned to put tactics at the forefront of his mind for this mission, lest he overthinks on the allies he finds himself with here.
At that point, he'd start reminding himself of the Discovery, and his mind would lose focus.
'A mind without purpose will wander in dark places,' they used to say.
If the captain had his way, he'd have some of those people on this battlefield instead of some of the lot the 'Coalition' brought here. If this event is genuinely the doom of all reality that Titus saw over the horizon, one would think they would spare more attention to the men and women they're dragging into the warzone.
Some of them don't deserve to be here. Not because this place is an honor - it is because it is a horror.
The fields of battle aren't a horror for everyone, however.
KARL FRANZ PROLOGUE
"The Emperor of Man"
"I shall go protect the citizens."
A voice erupted, stern and full of iron, the clattering and clanking of steel armor echoing afterwards. Through a thin sheet of mist a man covered in armor strode forward. Sashes, ribbons and banners were thrown about his ornate armor in an elegantly morbid presentation. The vibrant hues of yellow and purple were mismatched against depictions of bones and bloody swords. In his right hand, he lifted a golden hammer -- the hammer of the God-Father.
"It is the duty of an emperor to protect his people. The longer we wait, the longer great men, women and children are put to the sword. No more! If we are to die, take comfort that it will be no greater death in the protection of the innocent! Sigmar watches us with his hammer I wield, so brave men, let us put on a show that will make the Chaos Gods tremble!"
With a few steps forward, the Emperor of Man had one goal, one destination. He may of not been the most tactful or social individual, but in truth, his valor and inspiring presence only could rally even the most lowly or degenerate of fighters.
"For the Empire! For the Warhammer!"
And with that, the Emperor marched, war in his heart.
@anybody to protecc
As the space marine turned away from the distant fighting, he caught glimpses of gaudy armor (gaudier than Titus' armor, evidently) shifting among the Coalition forces, followed by a booming voice attached to the man in the helmet. A close-combat specialist is one thing, but this man was an unaugmented human in basic metal armor, waving a primitive pike about like it was a power glaive.
He looked as if would have heralded from a sorely undeveloped colony in the far rim of the Imperium. One of a thousand worlds that hadn't quite the luck to figure out the secrets of electricity. Titus was always perturbed by the existence of societies and men who've never seen a simple firearm before, so he'd instead not let himself think too much on someone caught in the past.
'Sigmar.' He must be from another universe, then. Fancies himself a servant of some other Emperor of another reality, perhaps? That is technically heresy of the highest order, but Titus didn't care much for that.
It was unfortunate. This man was going to get himself killed. Titus shook his head, beginning to lumber past to speak to Cosmo.
"...that will make the Chaos Gods tremble!"
"!?"
Titus froze like a statue. Did he hear right? The space marine turned to look at the emperor - he was towering over the man, yet the man was still radiating with an aura of confidence and leadership that was all too familiar for Titus.
Was this man... from his universe? An actual inhabitant of the Imperium?
"You speak of the Chaos Gods by name. That is no coincidence, is it?" Titus spoke, hopefully catching the emperor's attention after his battle speech.
Karl Franz may be surrounded by technology far more advanced than anything found within his Empire or the mountain homes of the Dwarves, but the ornate golden Aquila and skull-like designs engraved within Titus' armor would have seemed eerily similar. The glorious gold of Empire war machines and the shields and armor of the most decorated of knights in the Old World.
"I do not know many guardsmen who are so eagerly selfless for anything other their commanders. Let alone one that knows about the Ruinous Powers. Your commanding officer would have given you the Emperor's mercy for even thinking of something so profane," he mused, suggesting that Franz was a mere guardsman.
"That is if you even fight against the same dark gods that I do. Tell me who you are, stranger."
@Krieg @whoever