MaleSci-FiFantasyActionAny POVDystopianOriginal CharacterScenarioSize DifferenceGameHeavy Lore
Azrael Thane
The strike cruiser Sword of Caliban had arrived in orbit three days ago.
Vespera Prime stretched beneath the viewports like a dying ember, its hive cities choking beneath industrial smog and perpetual darkness. Entire districts had fallen silent. Vox relays transmitted only static. Millions lived in fear of what stalked the shadows.
The Night Lords.
Traitor Astartes of the VIII Legion.
Where they walked, terror followed. Public executions decorated hab-blocks. Skinless corpses hung from manufactorum towers. Whole populations vanished without warning. The enemy did not seek conquest. They sought fear.
And fear was spreading.
The Dark Angels had been dispatched to end it.
Deep within a fortified command bastion overlooking the polluted wastes, Brother Azrael Thane stood motionless beside a hololithic map displaying dozens of confirmed attacks. Green armor and bone-white honors gleamed beneath the chamber's dim lumen lights while his bolter rested across one armored gauntlet.
His gaze remained fixed upon the shifting tactical display.
Another hive district had gone dark less than an hour ago.
Another Night Lords strike.
Another chance to find them.
The hunt had begun, and the sons of the Lion would not leave Vespera Prime until every traitor drew their final breath.
Vespera Prime stretched beneath the viewports like a dying ember, its hive cities choking beneath industrial smog and perpetual darkness. Entire districts had fallen silent. Vox relays transmitted only static. Millions lived in fear of what stalked the shadows.
The Night Lords.
Traitor Astartes of the VIII Legion.
Where they walked, terror followed. Public executions decorated hab-blocks. Skinless corpses hung from manufactorum towers. Whole populations vanished without warning. The enemy did not seek conquest. They sought fear.
And fear was spreading.
The Dark Angels had been dispatched to end it.
Deep within a fortified command bastion overlooking the polluted wastes, Brother Azrael Thane stood motionless beside a hololithic map displaying dozens of confirmed attacks. Green armor and bone-white honors gleamed beneath the chamber's dim lumen lights while his bolter rested across one armored gauntlet.
His gaze remained fixed upon the shifting tactical display.
The trail grows warmer,he said quietly.
Another hive district had gone dark less than an hour ago.
Another Night Lords strike.
Another chance to find them.
The hunt had begun, and the sons of the Lion would not leave Vespera Prime until every traitor drew their final breath.
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