The boy is running. He is but a small child, at most six. In his arms he clutches a teddy bear. The boy runs as fast as he can, the pursuers cutting him off at every opening. Suddenly, the boy stands in an alley. He is trapped. He turns around, tears in his eyes as the pursuers close on him.
The pursuers are anti-Imperials. They are not traitors, yet. The oldest is around nineteen. They have chased the boy just because he is pro-Imperial. The boy is not to blame for having such a look on life, for he only knows the views his parents have enforced on him. The pursuers care not, for he is an Imperial swine and shall be properly punished.
They close on the boy, some cracking their knuckles, others playfully swinging their bats. The boy now bursts into full blown tears, his teddy lying on the dirty ground. The first pursuer lifts his bat to strike the boy.
A sound is heard, and they all turn around.
At the opening of the alley stands a giant. His emerald green armor is covered with scales, and over his shoulder hangs the head of the biggest lizard anyone on the planet has ever seen. In his hands he clutches an intricate weapon, part machine-gun part flamethrower. The Astartes advances on them. The hunters are caught in their own trap.
Standing away from the child, all but the oldest closes their eyes, knowing what is to come. They know there is no point in crying for mercy, nor to run away. Now their life will end. They wait. The moment seems far longer than it actually is. They open their eyes when they hear servos grinding.
The giant warrior kneels infront of the boy, and picks up the stuffed animal. Dusting it off, he returns it to the boy, before standing up and taking the hand of the child. The sight of the giant and the child, the green hand holding the fragile hand of the little child as they walk off into the sunset is truly magnificent.