A guardsman, a techpriest and a Commissar!

Lance corporal Irons was having the worst time of his life, the sector his regiment had been deployed to was attacked by Tyranids and they had lost their only Baneblade against a Carnifex... a Emperor-damned carnifex. The bloody thing had torn the tanks cockpit apart before murdering the crew, this had demoralized the regiment when they saw it happen, causing many guardsman to retreat.

"I'm not payed enough for this frakkin' shit," Irons growled as his Lucius pattern lasgun hissed in his hands, the heat wafting of the barrel could be felt all over the gun.

A rumble shook the regiment as a Lemun russ's plasma cannon overheated and exploded, destroying the tank and surrounding guardsman in a flash of blue plasma. This caused another group of guardsman to retreat in fear, a Commissar's Bolt pistol roaring as cowards fell as they ran.

"Hold the line damnit!" a sergeant shouted down the line, his voice carrying over the thunder of Heavy Bolters roaring across the line of guardsman,  "We can't let the Xeno's enter the city!"

A roar echoed across the crater ridden landscape as a Carnifex charged the line, his carapace covered in holes in scorch marks from various weapons, Several heavy bolters immediately focused fire on the massive beast, tearing it's shell to shreds as large Mass reactive rounds tore into it's body. Luckily the monster collapsed a few meters from the guardsman as a lasgun scored a shot through it's eye, frying the brain to a crisp. Multiple thuds sounded from behind Irons as several tanks fired at the incoming swarm, their explosive shells rending large groups to nothing but blood stains and organs. just as the swarm started to thin out, a large rift swallowed up three of the tanks, dragging them and their crew underground as a large swarm of hormagaunt spilled out of the holes tearing apart any guardsman in their path, another tank's plasma cannon detonated sending molten slag and chunks of wreckage everywhere, most of the wreckage embedded themselves in guardsmen.

Irons tried to flee but was knocked on his back by a ripper, its little claws and razor teeth tearing at his flak vest before a shard of steel ripped through the little 'nid. Irons grunted as he shoved the body off him, the dead 'nid's heavy weight trapping him. Before he could call out for help a fleeing guardsman was hit by a acidic spine, the acid melting his chest causing him to drop his weapon on irons face as he ran past, the impact of the weapon knocking him out.

(Several hours later)

Irons groaned as he woke up, his head throbbed in pain as he sat up, his muscles refusing to cooperate with his pain ridden mind. after several attempts to get up his muscles finally decided to move, as he moved his back cracked, sending several jolts of relief through him. when he finally sat up, he started to think about what happened, several thoughts crossed his mind, chief amongst them was what happened to his regiment. As he thought his headache intensified, his vision blurred as he grabbed his head, feeling a warm liquid running down his hand. Quickly pulling his hand away he brough his hand up to his face, his hand slightly blurred as the lenses of his rebreather fogged up, his hand coated in blood. As he stared at his hand he quickly moved with a burst of urgency, Removing the clip holding his helmet to his head he pulled his helmet off before ripping off his rebreather, his hand's probed the wound. A large gash rested above his eye's, most likely an injury caused the the Lasgun being dropped on his face, as he felt up the wound he muttered litanies and prayers to the emperor,  before he grabbed a bandage from one of his many pockets. He quickly unrapped the band and started to wind it tightly around his head, the white fabric being stained crimson from his blood. As he reached the last of the bandage he clipped the end of the fabric to the rest of the bandage, the fabric staying tightly around his head. Giving a short moment to appreciate his bandaging ability he put his Rebreather on, followed by his helmet before he stood up, his knees joints popping as he stood up. Bending over to pick up a lasgun off the ground, he shouldered it before sighting up with a corpse before pulling the trigger. The weapon let of a crack and hiss as a beam of red light shot out of the end towards the target, the light dispersed on the target without noise as the intense heat of the beam burnt a small hole in the corpse.

(Switching POV from 3rd to Irons)

Satisfied the weapon work I quickly patted down my body as I searched through my pockets to see if I still had my gear, as I finished the search I took note of what is missing and what is not. Quickly glancing around I slung my weapon over my shoulders to let hang there by its strap as I walked over to a corpse of a guardsman a few meters away. When I arrived I took notice of the corpse, it's arm missing with a huge slash down his stomach, I tried not to gag as I searched over his corpse for anything to salvage when I noticed several Krak grenades and Melta charges, in his hand was a Meltagun, its barrel melted from continuous use, Patting through his pocket I found his ID tags, the iron panel scorched black and the beaded chain snapped. I muttered a prayer for the soldier and continued digging, eventually I found his solar charger and 3 spare power cells for my lasgun. As I continued looking around I came across a soldier in peculiar armor. Instead of the standard flask vests it had large metal plates overlapping each other. Grinning, I quickly removed my torn flak vest and donned the carapace armor, its weight slightly heavier than my flak vest but still light enough for me to wear. just as I stood up I noticed a sheath at his hip, my grin grew larger as I grabbed it, a hilt sticking out of the sheath. I quickly grabbed the hilt before pulling the sword out. The blade, a sabre if my guess is correct, glinted beautifully, it's blade emitted a crackling aura that gave the weapon a mystical shine. I finished admiring the blade and attached the sheath to my waist and put the sword away. Just as I was walking away a thought hit me, 'if I brought back the armor of some of my comrade, maybe the Departmento Munitorum would give me some better gear!' At the possibility of getting better gear entered my mind I was sold. I quickly started hunting down other fallen guardsman and scavenging their gear, Lasguns, powercells, armor? you named it, I had made a makeshift bag out of some shirts of soldiers and had getting pretty overloaded, the combined weight of weapons, ammunition and armor was taking its toll.

After a few hours of looking for survivors I took notice of the light, it was getting dark and the lenses of my rebreather didn't help one bit, I quickly resolved to find shelter and stood up. As I stood up I lost my balance as the gear on my back dragged me back, straight into a Purle portal, the portal's colors hurt my eyes and made my brain itch as I fell in before everything went dark.