When Sentinels Weep

[Brother Sergeant Luther]

The exhausted cheers of the mortals wash over me as Horus's forces pull back from the walls, in the distance the first of their transports lifts off the scorched earth of Terra. My body pushed beyond even it's superhuman capabilities finally wins it's battle against my pride and I lower my bulk beneath the parapet, sitting in the shade of the battered defences.

 

My left arm lies useless by my side the mangled remains of the hand a reminder of the hard fought battles. I reach up and pop the seals of my helm the hiss of escaping air drowned amongst the cheers. I raise my fave to the sun whose light burns through the smoke rising from the battlefield, an apt metaphor.

 

That's when I hear the news relayed only over the private channels of my Legion. I place my helm back upon my head fumbling with the seals. And while the mortals cheer, we sentinels weep. For we have failed, Dorn was returning to Terra with the body of our Liege.