And lo, the fourteenth day of the Campaign is upon us. Further information of the combat has been revealed as the Librarians study the event's history in greater depth.
The Blood Angels fleet was powerful, but cumbersome, a hallmark of the Imperium many advanced Xenos races such as the Eldar and Necrons knew. Ka'Bandha was going to open a huge warp storm amongst the Astartes ships, and Dante knew there wasn't enough time to relocate.
He authorised the use of onboard Chapter relics, such as Siege shields from the days of the Great Crusade, many pitted with markings from battle damage during the Siege of Terra. These shields would prove vital in weathering the tidal wave of chaos spawn and daemons that would spill into reality and charge into the Marines' lines without fear or pause.
The Flesh Tearers were one of the first Successor Chapters to heed Dante's rally, and their Strike Cruiser, Curse of Guilt, was nearest to the first tear in reality through which the Daemonic host began to flow. As a gigantic Daemon Prince tore into the cruiser's armoured hide the Marines on board had little time to muster a defence, but the Astartes did what they could.
Those most entrusted with defending the Strike Cruiser were Brother Libelus, a Librarian almost without peer in the Chapter wearing a suit of revered Terminator armour, and a Tactical Squad led by Veteran Sergeant Gondow. Just as the massive talons of the Daemon prince's great hands were piercing the wall of steel in front of them, Gondow bellowed an ultimatum to his Squad.
"Brothers, if we fail here today we shame not only ourselves but our ancestors and Primarch. To admit defeat now is to condemn the brotherhood of Sanguinius unto eternal damnation. Cleanse the unpure, purge the hated and tear the flesh from those unfit to exist in the galaxy which belongs to the Emperor!"
His squad roared in response. "Brothers, we go to war once again!" The Daemon Prince, with one final strike, tore a great rent into the Cruiser's flank, and forced his way through the gap. His burning gaze drilled into Sergeant Gondow's eyes, and the Daemon roared in hatred before leaping forward. But Librarian Libelus had foreseen the arrival of a foe too powerful for mere Bolter fire to fell, and prepared heavier support in advance. Before the Prince could reach the Tactical Marines a Dreadnought threw himself against the foul creature from the side, servos whining as the machine's wicked power talons drove into its corrupt flesh. The daemon roared in anger and turned, its massive hand grabbing the Dreadnought's arm.
"You challenge Mercinus, and you have been found wanting!" The Dreadnought boomed in its impossibly deep vox-amplified voice. Brother Mercinus, known as Merc to his closer brothers, was a famed Furioso Dreadnought of the Nova Angels. With the wings of Sanguinius sprawled across the front of his armoured shell, Mercinus raised the gaping barrel of his Frag Cannon into the face of the Daemon, and let loose a volley of explosive shells. The Daemon's face was torn to bloody shreds, but he was far from defeated, the damage mostly superficial.
With the Daemon distracted, Squad Gondow let loose a hail of Bolter fire into the Daemon's back, supplemented by the squad's Plasma gunner, gouts of superheated energy melting the Daemon's skin. The Librarian strained and focused his mind, creating a beam of pure light glistening in a bloody hue. This lance of blood penetrated the Daemon's spine, crippling him. The spine would fuse together after a few short moments, but in that brief moment, Furioso Mercinus forced his power talons into the Daemon's stomach, reaching the crippled flesh and bone in the Daemon's back. Finding the end of the servered spine, Mercinus closed his grip, and tore the spine from the Daemon's body. It fell limp onto the ground, roaring in pain and anger. Before it could attempt to get back up he stomped down onto its head with his massive armoured foot, crushing its skull to a pulp.
"A fine piece of work," Libelus thought. But this was simply the herald of a far greater challenge. Through the gap in the ship's hull hundreds upon hundreds of lesser daemons surged. Mercinus turned and levelled his Frag Cannon at the oncoming horde. "WE SHALL NOT BE FOUND WANTING!" He boomed, as the cannon roared, spitting death.