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Legion: Birth

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This article, Legion: Birth, was written by Abyssal Horror. Please do not edit this article without their explicit permission.
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Legion: Birth is the first short story about the astartes named Legion, a unique marine, possessed by several daemons. "Birth" follows his creation, as well as his revange and the fight against the warband of Slaaneshian marines who took over Cestelus.

Chapter I: The new inmate

Screams and steanch. Always the same steanch and those horrible screams. It bearly let him sleep. Just as he closed his eyes, the nightmares started. He dreamt of all the horrors he saw, the things they did to his fellows, the things they done to him. Indeed, Aenellius met a terrible fate. The once stoic fighter pilot was just a pirsoner now. No, even worse, just food. His last mission was weeks ago, just a few days before the riots started. The millitary overthrew the government. This wouldn`t have been that bad, if they were the ones behind it. Deceived by promises of immortality and endless power, the navy and guard of the small Imperial system of Cestelus submited to the insane and sadistic astartes of the Slaaneshian warband known as Arhelian`s Children. The warband, counting no more than 7 men, was consisted of exiles, who, after their daemonic lord Arhelian was banished into the warp, refused to submit to new leadership, and thus took it as their goal to bring back their master. Here they found the perfect place for their plan.

Aenellius was young, prideful, refusing to submit. They knew of this, yet he was not to be killed. A man with such a powerful will and endurence was perfect for their "gift". He, and many like him, were locked away in a prison, they were to become the feast for Arhelian, once he arived on the world. Yet, the Warden, as the called him, still imposed terror amongst them. The marine bearing the name Felius Skintearer took a prisoner each night, toruting him and doing who knows what to him, then placing his skin on the central wall of the main cell block. 

Today was no different. Aenellius woke up, seeing the teared skin of yet another of his fellow prisoners. He knew him, Hans Garner, an officer of the guard, a hero of the battle of Cestelus III. As his cell was at the bottom of the tower-like cell block, he had a direct view at Hans, that is, what was left of him. The face was stearing right at him, the blood droping where the eyes once were. Aenellius layed back. His cell mate, the former commissar Berturm Kessler, was awake too. He was a total contrast to the young Aenellius, and old, ugly man, his head and beared shawed, scars covering all of his body. Berturm was a man of little words, letting his grumpy voice speak only when needed.

"I don`t know if I should feel sorry for him or admire his fate" the words came out of the scared mouth

The pilot was silent, he did not knew for himself. Gerner met a terrible fate, yes, but will their`s be any better. Even worse: they had to wait. The day of the arrival of the daemon prince was close. Final preparations were made in the city. Their death will come soon. He would have fallen into dark toughts again if not for a horrible scream. He knew the voice, but it was no prisoner, but one of the guards, Inric. Both of the prisoner grined at the sight: the Inric`s hand was cut off, while his arm was burning in a strange pruple flame. The other prisoners were watching too, some cheering and laughing. All sounds stopped as the ground trembled under the weight of terminator armor. The two terminators, the only ones in the warband, named Illius and Linus, pulled heavy chains. Following them was the Hound Master Inasius and the Warden Felius. Guards floced around them, jumping to aid their wounded comrade and to get him out of the way. The marines were putting up a fierce fight against what ever they were pulling. Then, their struggle was eased for a moment. The prisoners gazed at their new fellow, tho what they saw was not human, at least not any more. The eyes shining, nearly flaming, the face grill was like there was fire in it, the armor damiged, some dark aura pouring out of the cracks. The new prisoner was astartes, once. He stopped his struggle, letting them pull him to his cell, as a guard opened the door. The downer cells were meant for psykers, to restrain their power, just like the arcane chains which were on the "marine". But looking at what happened to Inric, they were to weak. Inric stood up, now with his arm in a bandage, his fellows around him. In one moment, the monster moved, touching the guard`s face, leaving a black mark on him. The terminators pulled hard, as now Felius jumped and kicked the beast, bringing him into the cell, as they shut the door. The guards look confused into Inric`s mark. In a flash of light, Inric exploded, ripping the other guards to shreads. A horrible laugher echoed trough the entire block, equally on all levels. It came from the new inmate. The terminators exited the block, while the Hound Master looked down upon the corpses on the ground

"What about these?" his question went in the direction of the Warden, who was already leaving

"Leave them there, I don`t want to stay here for a moment. Actually, if you want, take them and feed them to your dogs" the Warden replied

A gasp came from the Hound Master as he left the block as well, while to corpses still were on the ground, their guts everywhere, some even having a spark of life in their eyes. Aenellius was fascinated, what kind of monster could inspire such dread into even horrors like the Slaaneshian marines.

Chapter II: The escape

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