Chapter 225: ???????????

[3rd POV]

Outside of the Imperial Palace, the war raged. Corpses of the protectors of the Imperium lay littered across the grounds. Space Marines and the Astra Militarum soldiers, all as if they were...nothing. Blood and gore painted the grounds as daemons and humans alike were torn apart by the battle.

The hulking masses of titans lay against the grounds, torn asunder by their Chaos counterparts. The shrieks and roars of daemons, the screams and grunts of humans. All of it combined into a cacophony of pure and utter...chaos.

And the Daemon Princes were adoring the sight.

The sight of the Emperor's beloved world being torn apart, as they grew ever closer to finally ending the life of the one that they despise more than anything in the whole universe. The one that caused them to fall into the hands of Chaos in the first place.

The Primarchs of the Imperium the two that were not missing, Roboute Guilliman and the only recently returned Lion El'Johnson, were both trying their best to get to the holy lands of Terra, but...were failing.

The reason the Imperium was failing so much was because the majority of the still loyal Primarchs were either missing inside of the warp, or dead. Leaving only two remaining Primarchs that were accounted for.

It was this fact that led the Daemon Princes to the belief that they can successfully invade the Imperial Palace with the right preparation. And it seemed that their beliefs were being proven correct, as the soldiers of Terra were slowly but surely failing, the onslaught of uncountable daemons was simply too much for them too handle.

It would take the reinforcements of the two primarchs to POTENTIALLY pull the battle back. But with the Daemon Prince Angron who was personally tearing apart every soldier that grew close to him.

The Daemon Princes could only watch in glee as it happened, some showing it quite...interestingly. Some of them quite literally taking pleasure in the gore and death that befell the forces of the Imperium.

Standing tall with reddened skin and a presence that breaks the mind of mere mortals, was Magnus the Red, the Daemon Prince of Tzeentch. Reality seemed to almost...warp around him, as if his mere presence made it...curl in disgust, wishing to be nowhere near him.

At his side was another of the Daemon Princes. With a long snakelike lower half, large wings at his back, and four arms instead of a normal two, with tinted skin similar to that of a purple color, was Fulgrim, Daemon Prince of Slaanesh.

While the two may be worshippers and followers of two different Chaos Gods, they do work together sometimes. And in the case of finally ending the life of the Emperor of Mankind, all the Daemon Princes were willing to work together, with even the Chaos Gods being willing.

"The plan is progressing smoothly, the forces of the Imperium are falling one by one. Soon the Corpse Emperor shall join them" Magnus spoke, his voice echoing with a certain arrogance to it, and yet alongside that arrogance was a strange...certainty, like he knew for a fact that they were to win.

"Watching the Imperium fall before us is such a delectable sight~ Is it not?~" Fulgrim said in an almost seductive tone, but it was corrupt, dark...wrong.

"It does have its...charms. It is gratifying to finally watch as everything he built crashes and burns, while our Gods feast on his corpse" Magnus responded, a pleased gleam in his eye, but nothing more than that. He wasn't as open with his emotions as Fulgrim obviously was, a man that worshiped an entity that was the God of Excess, which included certain emotions and feelings.

"Well, it seems that it's finally time~" Fulgrim said, as they both watched the outer walls of the Palace begin to give way, as they grew ever so slowly closer to where the Emperor lay, where their father lay. And once they reached inside...all would come to an end, and Chaos would truly reign.

At least, that is what is supposed to happen. According to their plans, to the Chaos God's plans, and according to the plans of the Warmaster Abaddon. It was all coming together, and within the next hours the Palace's final walls would fall, and so too would the Imperium.

And yet...something felt...wrong, like...this was...too easy. Where was the Emperor? Where was his immense psychic might stopping them from carrying on? Sure they had prepared means to block his path, to allow them to enter the planet, but...this was different.

Neither of them seemed to realize this, however. As instead, they focused on what was happening right now, and that was the fact that the Imperium's beloved homeworld, its holy terra, was crumbling around them, quite literally in certain parts.

On the battlefield itself, the cries of Space Marines and Infantry cried out alike, roars of pain and rage and fury, as they fought to their last breaths as they shot and cut every Daemon they could.

"Stand tall brothers! We SHALL NOT FALTER!" A Infantrymen roared as his fellow infantry roared alongside him, raising their blasters and firing upon the daemons. It did...barely anything to them, with their weapons being akin to a love tap to most of the daemons that they were facing. But it mattered not to the brave men in front of them.

For this was their last stand. For this was the time in which they would fight until torn limb to limb. For this was the time in which they stood as one, for this was time in which they protected their Emperor, nay...this was the time they protected their Imperium with their last breath.

For they knew deep in their hearts, that should they fall on this fateful day, then the Imperium would fall with them. For the Emperor WAS the Imperium, without him...they would all be consumed by the darkness of Chaos.

"For the Imperium!" They roared once again, as their blades clashed and their lasguns fired upon the daemons in front of them. Their large brethren firing their larger and stronger weapons, ripping through daemons faster than hundreds of them combined.

Terra was made up of Quadrillions of human souls, and they were being snuffed out at a terrifying rate, billions dying rapidly, so many souls being sent to the Warp, the place in which they go upon death. A true horror to the eyes of any normal person within the grand Imperium.

They continued to fight, they continued to kill, and they continued to rapidly perish before the impossible storm of Daemons. A force so large that not even the Space Marines can stop them, for they held the strongest of daemons in their midst.

And slowly but surely, over the next tens of minutes, minutes that felt as if they were hours, the soldiers began to fall. One by one the Space Marines fell, and when a single space marine fell, dozens of infantry fell at that moment.

They grew closer and closer to the Ultimate Gate, which would then lead to the Eternity Gate, and therefore...the Golden Throne itself. Should this Gate fall...it was all but inevitable for the Eternity Gate to fall soon after. As while the "Companions" were incredible, even they could not fight against a force millions strong, billions if all of the daemons on Earth surged there at the same time.

Which they could if needed.

With their backs all but pressed against the walls of the Ultimate Gate, and the realization that this was basically the last line, should they get through here...it was all over.

But they would never falter, not to death, not to Xenos, and sure as hell not to the forces of Chaos.

"Continue fighting! We cannot allow for the gate to fall! Stand steady! Stand STRONG!" A captain roared, one of the last remaining space marines on the battlefield. For the Daemons had targeted the Space Marines first, being directed to rid the resistance of its strongest forces first, and then the weaklings that were the infantry.

"FOR THE EMPEROR!" They roared as one, the gate shaking from the clashes of blade and bolter fire.

And as the onslaught continued, as they began to fall one by one, as the infantry began to fall apart, and the remaining space marines began to die, they continued to fight. For the Imperium hinged upon it, for the fate of the human race depended on them, and they would do their duty, even in death.

The last of the remaining Space Marines growled as he slammed his blade within a daemon, tearing through them as if they were butter, but...it mattered naught, as his form was pushed back, held down as they began to overwhelm him akin to that of a wave.

As he began to bleed to death, the daemons ripping him apart the best they could, the lone space marine could only stare into the skies of Terra, as he softly spoke, the pain meaning nothing anymore.

"I am sorry...my Emperor...I...have...failed you" He grunted out, as death began to claim him, and yet...something...began to happen.

Silence...

The Daemons had gone silent.

Attacks stopped, the sounds of gunfire and screams and blades clashing against one another stopped. The horrid cacophony of death and chaos...stopped.

And all that sounded out was a lone bell ringing, as the Ultimate Gate began to slowly open, its ancient gates creaking as it revealed the inner palace to the Daemons. But...they did not surge forward.

The Daemon Princes, corrupted Primarchs stared forward, as something...felt wrong. The daemons around them didn't take a single step forwards, they...it was almost as if they were...fearful.

And as they watched, they heard it...stomping. The sounds of great metallic boots hitting the grounds, as they began to see them...

The Companions, the Adeptus Custodes in front of them, all marching as one, their glimmering golden armor shining as the light shone into the area.

"What...is...this?" The Space Marine, still alive, grunted. The Adeptus Custodes...were not seen...ever, if they did, it was gravely important. Their duty was to their Emperor, not the Imperium itself.

And stood amongst them was their Captain-General, the man who was considered the single greatest warrior in all of the Imperium. Better than any other Adeptus Custodes, better than any Space Marine, better than even some of the Primarchs themselves.

Trajann Valoris

Normally he would have been fighting on the front lines amongst his men. But upon seeing the oncoming onslaught, the sheer magnitude of the great Daemon army, they knew that they were better served inside of the Imperial Palace itself, protecting the Emperor to their last breath, just like their brethren on the outside.

And yet...they were here now...amongst all of them.

Meaning...something had changed.

Seeing the state of the men around him, of the soldiers-no, heroes that had bravely fought to keep the Emperor safe, Trajann frowned. But, he ripped the frown from his face, and instead focused on what was important.

"Men of the Imperium!" His voice boomed, as the surviving soldiers gazed upon him, the daemons still paused, as if frozen. And...it was beginning to look like they WERE frozen.

"You have stood strong! You have protected the Palace even when your body shattered! You are heroes of the Imperium! For your sacrifice shall not be in vain!" The man roared, as something...began to happen.

The Daemons felt it. The corrupted primarchs felt it. The Greater Daemons felt it. They all felt it.

Something was coming.

And...something was indeed coming. As deep within the Golden throne, a golden aura illuminated its halls. The once bony corpse of the Emperor was gone...forgotten. As sitting upon the golden throne was something...someone new.

Tall, powerful...similar to the Emperor. A new form...one taken to honor that in which has passed, a form that would forever be taken within this universe, the new form of...

THE EMPRESS OF MANKIND

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That's the end of the chapter!

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