The Legion of the Damned

by Cobra of England

Damned Rising

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The servoes groaned, shaking off a layer of dirt and grime that had a thousand years to build up to its current state. His great armoured form sat up on the table and stood up, stretching his arm servoes from a long time of disuse.

The daemon would make it's move soon, what that move would be puzzled the Sergeant. From what he had felt through the telepathic link, it felt like no other demonic presence he had encountered.

It had none of the bloodlust of Khornate daemons, none of the repulsiveness of Nurglite daemons, none of the psychic abilities possessed by a daemon of Tzeentch.

It was a shapeshifter which fitted with the Slaaneshi daemon he expected it to be, yet he felt no lust from it for anything. All he had felt was desperation for itself and it's servants.

What were its servants? Centurius wondered to himself as he drew his chain sword and revved the toothed blade, shaking the decay off.

Still, if that was the mental defences of their leader, he would have laughed at the defensive capabilities of its troops. Even that wannabe Lord of Change he and his brothers had to protect the Castle from had more powerful defences simply through his offensive powers and chaotic approach to psychic warfare.

The door was locked from the outside and Centurius wasn't in the mood for dealing with a pathetic obstacle like that, not when there was a daemon to be banished.

He revved his chainsword and swung it at the heavy wooden door, shearing clean through in a matter of moments. He kicked open the broken door, revealing a staircase.

Any of the ponies in the Archives would have heard that, but there was no time to be lost.

Centurius sprinted up the stairs, servoes groaning under the stresses placed on them from such long intactivity.

He cast a false invisibility spell, meaning it convinced others to ignore him rather than providing 'true' invisibility. True invisibility involved the use of physical manipulation, which was never the Sergeant's strongest psychic discipline, so he used the telepathic version instead, blotting his appearance from registering in their weak, malleable minds.

Chaos would have a field day if they got past the mass of psychic and physical defences that isolated this planet from the rest of the Galaxy.

Centurius ran through corridors filled with those useless noble ponies that had always filled his audio receptors with such drivel that he had almost destroyed the entirety of Canterlot just so he could have peace and quiet, dodging out their way as they hurried towards the hall where the wedding would be held.

He knew the exact positions of all his brothers through the telepathic web that linked them all, and the wedding hall had four Legionarries with the Emperor's blessed heavy flamers and a lone Dreadnought behind the place where the altar would be, if his guess was correct.

Maybe the God-Emperor would show the daemon mercy, for he would not.

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Twilight and the others shuffled into the hall, taking their positions as honoured guests right along the edge of the aisle after the army of Canterlot nobles had filed into the hall.

Celestia stood at the end of the hall, one of the massive black statues the books that Twilight had studied called "Brutarii" after their massive size compared to even the other statues.

She stared at the statue,  a feeling of unease resting in her stomach. Maybe it hadn't been a good idea to have some of the statues in the wedding after what had happened.

Rarity wasn't present, still recovering from the bleed out of the multicoloured liquid. She had still designed the dress and created it from her bed with the help of her suddenly more powerful magic, however, and would no doubt be expecting a complete description of the event down to the smallest detail, of which Twilight would happily provide.

Rarity wasn't one to give away the chance to advertise the chance of advertising her wares in front of the nobles of Canterlot, either.

Shining Armour stood to Celestia's left, eyes slightly glazed over like he was struggling to focus. Maybe the protection spell was beginning to tire him, after all, casting and sustaining a spell as taxing as a energy shield non-stop for well over a week couldn't be easy.

The doors opened with a loud clang as Cadence walked into the room, beautiful in Rarity's dress, shame she wasn't here to see it while her bridesmaids walked in front before the Royal Guard shut the door.

Twilight saw her smile faintly as she strode past, as if she was in a hurry to get to Shining Armour. There was no warmth in that smile, no love.

It was a smile millions had come to fear in the form of a old man from Cadia, a smile that signalled 'Just as planned'.

As Cadence approached the altar and the two ponies began to say their vows, Twilight couldn't help but shake the feeling something seriously wrong was about to happen.

That was when the doors exploded in a shower of splinters.

A low grinding of metal upon metal filled the silent hall as the statue strode forth from the wreckage of the doorway.

Cadence and Celestia's horns ignited at once, Celestia's a sunny yellow, Cadence's was a sickly green, not the rosy pink Twilight remembered it to be.

"What are you doing here? You, who attacked my niece, now have the gall to threaten me and her?" Celestia hovered a few feet off the ground, wings extended.

The statue remained silent as it continued it's advance down the aisle, a low roar coming from a object clutched in one of it's hands.

The statue halted.

Celestia's horn suddenly stopped glowing, and she let out a silent scream as her magic was rammed back into her body.

The statue withdrew a spherical object with it's left hand and extended it out towards Cadence as it began its advance once again.

What happened next would go down as the most infamous day in Equestrian history, and it's bloodiest- the Day of the Thousand Pyres.

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In Spess...

The two ships dropped out of the Warp on opposite sides of the system, each mirroring the other's actions.

From one a one-eyed daemon gazed out, seeking to reclaim his Legions former glory and beat him who had ruined it by claiming the prize.

From the other a gold, horned helmet stared out, the object of his dreams was finally within his grasp.

Both had waited a thousand years to find this system in the warp, and both knew that the chances of the same alignment with the same Warp currents were slim, to say the least.

There could only be one winner.

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