"For Cadia And The Throne!" These were the last words of our beloved colonel as he was tossed aside by the hulking monstrosity that began millennia ago as a soldier for the Emperor, one of His chosen sons, an Astartes, a Space Marine. Now, corrupted by the gods of the warp, he was the bane of any who stood by the Imperial Banner. His blade no longer drew the blood of the Imperium's enemies, but of its own soldiers. He advanced further, his arcane armour shrugging off las-bolt and shrapnel alike. A noise, the beast fires his corrupted weapon, a weapon once consecrated in the forges of Mars, now a sickening warp-touched parody of the beautiful weapons of war. A sickening crunch of bone comes from besides me, and I see the body of the man next to me fall to the ground, his ribcage resembling the petals of a blossoming flower. I suddenly am consumed by rage, with no real cause. I new the man next to me like a newborn knows the world, but Cadians are all brothers under the skin. I remember only jumping out of my trench and charging the warp-fiend, intent on killing it with my bare hands if capable. A deep, raspy laugh seems to eminate from the thing's chest, as he swings his blade in an arc. The whirling, rusted and rotted teeth of his chain-blade etch a tattoo of death into my skin as I sink to the ground under his laughing gaze. The darkness blurs my vision, shouts of worry are heard from my comrades, and of vengeance. Then, as I open my eyes to watch this beast take me, another equally ferocious being enters the fray. His blade strikes true, scarring the already warped armour of the fallen battle-brother, and for the first and possibly last time in my life I see a true Astartes. The warriors of the Emperor and his chosen sons, genetically modified to be the bane of all that threaten humanity's right to rule the stars and to safeguard His servants. The battle is ferocious, each matching the other, when another hulking shape enters my dwindling field of vision, another marine, another fallen Astartes. His blade slashes across the armor of the holy son, cleaving a gash similar to the rip in space that he and his kind spawn from. Warm blood splashes across my face, and I am Awoken. I truly realized then, that the warrior before me, for all his changes and majesty, was still a man at his core. I am consumed by a fire, stronger than for my fallen comrade, for I know what I must do. My body animated by Faith, I lunge at the nearest beast. He turns to me, with a snort of disgust, which is stuck in his throat as I slam home my bayonet into his helmet, for I also realized that, if this son of the Emperor is truly a man, then so too is his fallen brother and his misbegotten kind, for all monsters are spawned from the dark sects of their own people.
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Battle-Brother Caliir watched as the man before him lunged at the Night Lord Space Marine, using all his strength to distract the dark foe. Parrying the accompanying slash of his companion, Caliir flicked his sword in lightning quick slashes that belied his bulk and size, disarming and decapitating the traitor in a fountain of gore that sprayed across his armor such as the destroyed fountains of his youth, his only memory. Looking to the guardsmen, he moves to finish off the distracted warp-spawn, when the man reached down and unclasped a Krak Grenade from his bandolier with a cry, lodging the explosive in one of the craters pock-marking the armor. The last words of this man were engraved on the chest-plate of the Astartes he saved that night: "First Blood To Cadia!"