Though many in the Imperium are awareof the second and third wars forArmageddon, only a select few have anyknowledge of the first. All official recordsof the event were expunged from Imperialfiles by an Administratum desperate tocontain the truth: that Humanity facesthreats more dire than the averageImperial citizen could possiblycomprehend. Such knowledge, it is feared,would surely cast the superstitious andparanoid worlds of the Imperium intoanarchy and ruin. Such information thatcan be recovered concerning the events ofthe first war is only to be found in thedustiest corners of the crumbling archivesand data vaults of the AdeptusAdministratum, and to possess suchknowledge is to invite the retribution ofthe Ordo Malleus.

ArmageddonArmageddon lies some 10,000 lightyears to the galactic north-east of Terra,in the regions bordering the SegmentumSolar and the Segmentum Obscurus.Classified a hive world by theAdministratum, and subject to thehighest tithe grades, Armageddon isthe industrial hub of not just theArmageddon sub-sector, but the entireregion. Worlds for light years aroundrely on the industrial output of theimmense hive cities, and few worlds,other than Necromunda, can competewith it in terms of the sheer magnitudeof goods produced.

The cost of millennia of industry is aworld reduced to a barren waste,where few can prosper outside themassive hive cities. So ravaged byover-mining and pollution is thesurface of Armageddon, that no foodcan be produced and clean air is avalued commodity. The industrialcartels import a staggering quantity offoodstuffs each year, and the noblefamilies reap the profits of theirexploitation of tens of millions ofworkers.

The First War for Armageddonby Imperial scriveners Graham McNeill & Andy Hoare

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Under this regime many muttered ofliberation, of challenging the status quoand finding justice for the countlesssouls bound to the gargantuanindustrial machine of Armageddon.Demagogues whispered words ofdissent, and soon agent provocateurscalled openly for revolution. Civil unrestbecame rife and the Planetary DefenceForce was forced to violently suppressits own people with alarming frequency.

An Administratum census of the dayrecords that this was the state of thehive world of Armageddon at the middleof the third century of the 41stMillennium; a world in the throes ofinsurrection and disorder, ripe for theattentions of the Ruinous Powers.

Darkness GathersThe Bellum Chaotica, penned in thecentury following the war by theanonymous ‘Heretic Archivist of theGethsemane Reclusium’ states that in499.M41, the Daemon Prince Angron,Primarch of the World Eaters Traitor

Legion raised a mighty horde ofmutants, daemonhosts and renegades.Surrounded by a host of summoneddaemons and attended by his ChosenWorld Eaters berzerkers, Angron andhis army vomited forth from the Eye ofTerror. Taking advantage of the driftingspace hulk Devourer of Stars, Angronand his unholy army closed onArmageddon.

Chaos AttackThe hulk emerged from the Warp in thefurthest reaches of the Armageddonsystem, and was immediately detectedby the outermost monitoring stations.As it drifted through the outer regions,system defence craft were scrambledfrom the St Jowen’s Dock naval facilityand made contact with the hulk as itpassed the world of Pelucidar on thefifth day after its arrival.

The ship’s crews saw their doom asthey closed with the gargantuan spacehulk, but nonetheless attempted to stallits approach and provide the defenderson Armageddon time to prepare for thecoming invasion. Thousands died in thebattle against the Devourer of Stars,and their names are engraved upon themarble pillars of the Hall of Martyrs onSt Jowen’s Dock. But the attack was notin vain, for it blasted free the

TERRA

MACKAN

PROSPERO[destroyed]

ARMAGGEDONEL’PHANOR

CADIA

EYE OF TERROR

FENRIS

ARXcf. The Arx Raid

MORDIAN

File:66341/f.Segmentum Solar.Ref:Armageddon

The First War for Armageddon occurred almost 500 years before the birth ofGhazghkull Thraka; the Ork warlord who waged war upon the hive world notonce, but twice in the last century of the 41st Millennium. Scriveners Andy Hoare and Graham McNeill have unearthed details of the first of theterrible conflicts unleashed upon the blighted world of Armageddon.

propulsion unit of an ancient spacevessel that formed part of the Devourerof Stars’ enormous bulk. A section thesize of a small city slowly tore loosefrom the mass of the hulk, disgorging awave-front of plasma fire andincinerating thousands of Angron’stroops as it spiralled away, caught bythe gravity of nearby Pelucidar.

The drive unit broke up in theatmosphere, shedding a hideouscocktail of fuels and millennia of Warpspawned toxins. The atmosphere ofPelucidar was seeded with toxic death,and only the hardy subterraneanjungles of the cavern-world survived theinitial pollution. The inhabitantsperished within a year, their mindsdestroyed by the taint of the Warp, theirbodies poisoned by the radioactivewaste, and Pelucidar remainsquarantined to this day.

Without the ancient drive section,Angron’s servants evidently struggled toinfluence the course of the vast hulk,and its arrival at Armageddon wasdelayed by at least a month. Thesacrifice of the system defence crewsand the people of Pelucidar had boughtthe forces of Armageddon valuable timeto prepare for the inevitable invasion.

Chaos AscendentDespite the sacrifices of the ImperialNavy, the Devourer of Stars quicklyovercame Armageddon’s orbitaldefences, and Angron’s forces were soonin a position to begin their landings.

With the space hulk’s arrival, treacheryreared its ugly head within the hives ofArmageddon, and the seditious

elements of the populace were revealedas followers of the Dark Powers. Therecently uncovered memoirs of LordGeneral Gustav Karlson II record thatnearly half the Planetary Defence Forceturned on their fellows, their ranksswollen by hordes of cultists. Karlson,Chief-of-Staff of the ArmageddonSecundus Command Guard, reactedwith swift and unforgiving efficiency,eliminating those units he could notabsolutely rely on. His counterpart onArmageddon Prime was slower to reactand fought in vain to regain control asanarchy and mayhem swept throughthe hives of Armageddon Prime. Wherethe defenders should have been able tomount a well-prepared defence, thetrench lines and bastions were the siteof vicious battles between erstwhilebrothers-in-arms.

Angron’s forces made their planetfall allbut uncontested, and within a week,all-out war raged in and around everyhive on Armageddon Prime, the deathtoll spiralling beyond comprehension.Daemons rampaged through the factoryand hab districts while mutants andrenegades unleashed their feral wrathupon innocent civilians. Traitor TitanLegions stalked the Ash Wastes, whereloyalist Princeps fought a desperaterearguard action. The only hope for thedefenders was to fall back towards theequatorial jungles, and attempt toconsolidate in Armageddon Secundus.

As the last of the Imperial forceswithdrew towards ArmageddonSecundus, they left behind them a landruled by the daemonic and the insane.Makeshift abattoirs were constructed,and the blood of Angron’s victims was

offered up to the Blood God. The lastunits to stagger from the Ash Wastesreported the land behind them litteredwith bones, and the polluted riverschoked with the blood spilled in thename of Khorne.

VenerationsAccording to the Heretic Archivist,Warp storms of terrifying magnitudesurged with power around theArmageddon system at this time andthe sheer scale of slaughter lent powerto Angron and the daemons of hishorde. But such power is fleeting, andas the Warp storms began to abate, sotoo did his power diminish. Unless theDaemon Primarch could find a way ofestablishing a permanent link to theImmaterium to draw the energynecessary to sustain his army, all hisplans would be undone.

Unable to continue without the strengthof the Warp to empower him, Angron’sadvance stalled amidst the deepestjungles of the equatorial belt. TheDaemonic Primarch ordered theconstruction of a huge monolith,through which his armies could drawthe power needed to sustain theirexistence in the material universe. Theconstruction of the megalithic structuretook many weeks, and thousands diedin its construction. Thousands morewere butchered in cruel ceremonies ofconsecration, and the jungle witheredfor miles around as the corruptingpower of Chaos was drawn into thearcane construction.

ANGRON, DAEMON PRIMARCH OF THE WORLD EATERS

Ten thousand years ago, at the very birth of the Imperium, the Warmaster Horus,greatest and most trusted of the Emperor’s generals, led the rebellion thatplunged the Imperium into the maelstrom of terror known as the Horus Heresy.Angron was the first Primarch to join Horus in revolt against the Emperor,believing that his martial virtue was the only way to save Mankind fromdestruction. The World Eaters had always been the most warlike and savage ofthe Space Marine Legions and Angron enthusiastically led them into the worshipof Khorne, the god of war and bloodshed.

Khorne appealed to Angron’s sense of honour and martial pride, and when theHeresy failed and Horus was slain, he and the World Eaters battled across thegalaxy to reach the Eye of Terror and the daemon world Khorne had preparedfor them.

Twisted and horribly mutated over the centuries, Angron is now a hulking giantwith skin the colour of spilt blood. He continues to serve his Daemonic master,smiting his foes with a mighty Chaos blade of glowing iron etched with runesof doom and destruction.

Bran Redmow, known as the bloody-handed warrior.

Angron’s Berzerkers slaughter thedefenders of Hive Volcanus.

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Diabolical energies flooded the Chaoshorde as dark power pulsed throughthe monolith, but the time spent in itsconstruction had delayed Angron’sadvance by several weeks, and theImperial defenders did not waste thebrief reprieve they had been given.

The Imperium Strikes BackAngron’s horde erupted from theequatorial jungles and surged south,the bulk of his army seeking to engagethe Imperial defenders holding the lineat the River Chaeron. But the defendershad used the time afforded by Angron’sdelay wisely. The invaders foundthemselves facing well dug-in troops,reinforced by the recently arrived SpaceWolves who had answeredArmageddon’s cry for help from theirnearby homeworld of Fenris.

Ill-prepared for such a stalwart defence,the Chaos hordes broke against theimpregnable defence lines and waveafter wave was repulsed. It is said thatat the battle’s conclusion, the mightyChaeron was choked with the mutilatedbodies of mutants and traitors. But thewar for Armageddon was far from over.To the west, Angron himself led anattack towards Infernus and Helsreachhives, smashing the Imperial defenceswide open as he did so. Entirecompanies of Angron’s most insaneWorld Eaters berserkers rampagedthrough the redoubts and trench linesdefending the approach to the hives,and Angron prepared to deliver thedecisive blow to the beleaguereddefenders.

Logan Grimnar, the commander of theSpace Wolves had one last force tocommit. Though new to his post asChapter Master, Grimnar was far frominexperienced in combating the servantsof Chaos, and upon his arrival onArmageddon, had immediatelyrequested the aid of the ChamberMilitant of the Ordo Malleus. Given thescale of Angron’s invasion, an entirecompany of Grey Knight Terminatorswas assembled, a formation only evercommitted to battle under the mostdesperate of circumstances.

The account of the battle itself is sealedwithin the unbreachable vaults of theOrdo Malleus, but it is known that theGrey Knights teleported directly into themidst of Angron’s host. It is said that adozen bloodthirsters attended theDaemon Primarch; forming a bodyguardno mortal could hope to defeat…

The horizon burned the colour of blood,as though the sky itself was on fire. Thejungles of Armageddon were ablaze,turning the darkness of the night intohateful, orange-lit day. Logan Grimnar,Chapter Master of the Space Wolvesbreathed deeply, tasting the toxins in theair with every breath and running a dirt-and-blood encrusted hand through hismane of unkempt blonde hair. He staredat the crater-marked hell that stretchedout from the edge of the front line. Thestench of rotting corpses mingled with thereek of burning fuel and his eyes stungfrom the noxious black smoke coilinglazily upwards from burning vehicles theenemy had lost in the fighting.

“Too few,” he whispered. “Too few.”

His practiced eye surveyed the barrenexpanse of the Ash Wastes on the farbank of the River Chaeron, easily pickingout the hated icons of the Blood Godswaying in the cold northern wind amidstthe enemy camp. Bodies floated in theriver, so many a man might cross withoutwetting his feet, their eyeless skulls turnedup to face the fire-lit sky.

He marched along the length of thedefensive wall, his dented and scoredTerminator armour groaning as thedamaged fibre-bundle muscles in the leftthigh fought to match his pace. A carelessparry had allowed a daemon’s axe to bite ahand’s breadth into his armour. It wasonly one of a dozen wounds he hadsuffered in this campaign thus far, but thearmour had suffered greatly and, thoughthe artificers had done their best, there

was not the time for the repairs itdeserved. He only hoped the armour’sbattle spirit would understand and not failhim at a crucial moment. Grimnar stoppedat an embrasure in the parapet and grippedthe edges of the wall. The parapet wasnearly twenty metres high and sturdilyconstructed by the men and women of theDepartmento Munitorum Engineer Corp.Not nearly as strong or ashigh as hewould have liked, but he knew they werelucky to have it at all. The DaemonPrimarch’s inexplicable delay in crossingthe equatorial jungles had given them thetime they so desperately needed toregroup and reorganise the demoralisedImperial forces.

In the distance, nearly a hundredkilometres to the east, Grimnar couldmake out the smoke-wreathed spire ofHive Infernus, the teeming, stinking, man-made mountain called home by overtwelve million people. People he wassworn to defend, but didn’t know that hewould be able to. He shrugged off suchdefeatist thoughts and turned as he hearda calm voice behind him say, “LordGrimnar.”

“Brother Captain Aurellian,” noddedGrimnar to the new arrival. Like him,Aurellian was clad in Terminator armour,its blue-steel surfaces polished andgleaming. The Grey Knight carried a long,wide-bladed pole arm, its edge silver andfilled with intricate scriptwork, too smalleven for the enhanced eyesight of a SpaceMarine to read. Engraved purity seals anddevotional litanies fluttered from the shaft

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LOGAN GRIMNAR, LORD OF THE SPACE WOLVES

The saga of Logan Grimnar was but two centuries old when he became the WolfLord; Chapter Master of the Space Wolves. The First War for Armageddon wasthe first real test of his abilities as Great Wolf, and his command during theconflict is counted his finest hour.

The ‘Old Wolf’, as he is now known by many of his warriors, is notorious forupholding the interests and rights of his chapter, harbouring a deep distrust ofthe Administratum. Those who know of such things point to its actions at theend of the First War for Armageddon as the cause of his mistrust, but whateverthe truth, few will stand against the Great Wolf, and none will reject the aid ofhis Space Wolves in time of war.

Grimnar is a giant of a figure, tall even for a Space Marine and he carries theweight of his years with great dignity. Now seven hundred years old, his fangshave grown long and bestial, as do those of every Space Wolf as he ages.Wearing his ancient suit of Terminator armour, and wielding the revered Axe ofMorkai, Grimnar is one of the most feared warriors, and most respected leadersin the Imperium.

and every surface of his pristine armourwas decorated with heraldic iconographyand carved idioms.

Grimnar felt a stab of anger towards theGrey Knight. His weapon was unbloodedand though he and his warriors hadarrived the night before last, they hadimmersed themselves in prayer instead ofjoining the desperate fighting on the walls.

“When the Adepts of the CultMechanicus have completed theirpreparations, we shall take the fight tothe Fallen One,” said Aurellian.

“And how long will that be?” snappedGrimnar, “our people are dying here,Brother Aurellian. We do not have timeto indulge every whim of your petTechpriests.”

“I do not know,” shrugged Aurellian,ignoring Grimnar’s aggressive tone. “It willbe for them to say when they are ready.”

The young Chapter Master of the SpaceWolves bunched his fists and said, “Everysecond the Adeptus Mechanicus spendschanting doggerel and waving stinkingcensers over their technological witcherycost lives, don’t you understand that? Weneed to take the fight to the enemy now!”

“I understand it only too well, LordGrimnar,” replied Aurellian coolly, “but itwill avail us nothing if we attack beforewe are fully prepared. How many morelives will be lost if we fail because weacted in haste?”

Grimnar felt his anger ebb as the senseof the Grey Knight’s words penetratedthe haze of his anger and frustration.Thus far they had been spared the fullhorror of the Daemon Primarch’s attack,but the defeats his army had suffered onthe banks of the Chaeron would surelygain his attention soon. And the Emperorhelp them all when that happened.

“Do what you must then, but be ready toattack when the beast comes at us.”

“You are sure he will attack here?”

Grimnar nodded as he looked along thelength of the wall and trench line beforeit, seeing the bone-weary troopers whomanned its firing step and guns. Theywore defeat and exhaustion like a shroud.

He nodded slowly. “I would.”

******************Dirt and hard-packed earth rained downfrom the latest impacts of high explosive

shells as Sergeant Kohler pressed hishands against his ears and squeezed hiseyes shut. He kept his mouth open toavoid the pressure wave bursting hiseardrums as he’d been taught and prayedfor this nightmare to end. The groundheaved with shell impacts and the airburned with acrid propellant fumes. Hesmelt blood and the stench of voidedbowels and bladders and gagged, pressinghis back against the earth of his squad’sdugout in the trench line. Men ran insanewith terror, strobing silhouettes against thebright flare of explosions before beingsnatched away in storms of fire and steel.Kohler spat dirt and blood.

He reached down and gripped his lasguntightly, knuckles white. Kohler held theweapon close, clutching it to his muddyflak vest like a protective talisman, and ittook him long seconds to realise that theshelling had stopped. As the ringing inhis ears faded, screams and desperate criesfor medics replaced the shriek ofincoming artillery, the sudden absence ofthunderous noise as surprising as the factthat he was still alive. The momentaryelation at his survival faded as heremembered that the only reason it wouldstop would be an imminent attack.Sergeant Kohler surged to his feet,shouting, “Everybody up! Get up! Get up!They’re coming again!”

Dazed and terrified soldiers reluctantlyrose from their dugouts, their eyeshaunted by the carnage and horrors they

had seen in this war. Things so terriblethat many would never sleep again, evenwere they to live through this nightmare.Kohler chivvied his squad members ontothe trench’s firing step, yellingencouragement at anyone who passed by.Mangled bodies and severed limbs litteredthe iron duckboards of the trench andfoot-deep holes were filled with blood.Kohler slung his lasgun and pressed hisface to the trench periscope, extending itsvision port over the lip of their defence.Rolling banks of grey-flecked smokefilled the viewer, jerked and snatched bygunfire. He could hear a swelling roar ofhatred and a rumbling vibration throughthe ground. Chunks of earth and dustrattled around him, falling from the lipof the trench as something immense drewcloser. Then the smoke parted and Kohlerfelt his knees sag as he saw Angron’shorde in horrifying clarity.

Blood red daemons, with thick manes ofgore-streaked fur, loped alongside men intattered and bloody uniforms. Thesoldiers’ bodies were twisted by mutationand crude symbols had been painted overtheir insignia, but it was clear that theyhad once been Imperial Guardsmen. Menthey would have called brother not solong ago. A gargantuan, clanking machinepreceded them, brass and crimson andadorned with skulls. Huge, spiked wheels– each larger than a battle tank – churnedthe ground and crushed all before it. Onits back, a huge, black cauldron belchedchoking red smoke, the hissing of white

The daemons of Khorne attack.

??

hot metal and a huge bow wave ofinfernal heat preceding the war engine’sadvance.

Kohler turned to his soldiers and shouted,“All guns open fire! Fire at will!”

The Imperial line erupted in a storm oflasbolts and heavy weapon blasts, and thefront of the Chaos horde was instantlyscythed down. Volley after volleyhammered the Chaos troops, but Kohlercould see that it wouldn’t matter, therewere simply too many to kill. The warmachine loomed as large as a hive spire,the deafening hissing of the thing itcarried on its back overshadowing all butthe loudest weapons. Kohler ducked downbelow the lip of the trench, ejecting aspent power cartridge from his lasgun andfumbling for another. He heard whatsounded like a huge, sucking breathfollowed by a roaring like the howl ofsome ancient monster. The top of thetrench disintegrated, turned molten underthe fire of the war engine. Magma-hotdaemonic ichor spewed from the hissingcauldron, destroying everything it touchedbefore vaporising into the ether. Scores ofbodies fell into the trench, their upperhalves burned away and the remains oftheir uniforms ablaze. Burned human meatand sizzling fat filled Kohler’s nostrilsand he dropped to his knees, retching atits foul stench.

As he gagged on the ashen remains of hisfellow soldiers, he heard a thunderousdetonation as the war engine activated theburied mines placed in their hundredsbefore the trenches. Secondary explosionswithin the stricken war machine hurledburning liquid all across the battlefield,splashing down in molten sheets. The

earth rocked as it toppled, slamming intothe ground with teeth-loosening force.Kohler fell into a pool of steamingblood. Screams and screeches of agonyfilled the air and Kohler felt hatred likehe had never known flood his heart. Herose to his feet and shouldered his lasgun,pumping shot after shot into the reelingChaos forces. The minefield had haltedthem in their tracks and the survivorsmilled in shell-shocked confusion at itsedge. Scores fell to the fire of theImperial Guard and Kohler laughed inhysterical release. They could do it. Theycould win this battle!

But then the sky darkened and roilingblack clouds, shot through with bloodred lightning billowed from the Chaoshorde and a bellowing roar that froze themarrow in Kohler’s bones echoed acrossthe battlefield. The beat of powerfulwings parted the clouds and Kohler had abarely perceived vision of a vast redfigure crashing down to earth with anear-splitting boom. The creature landedheavily, thrusting out its slab-muscledchest and spreading its powerful armswide as it roared its challenge. It carried abroad-bladed sword of dark iron,unnatural sigils blazing with unholy light.Kohler sobbed as the enormous creaturestrode into the minefield, joined by agroup of hulking monsters from hisdarkest nightmares. Armoured in brass andcovered in filthy, blood-matted fur theycarried pulsing, red axes and lashing,barbed whips. Kohler dropped his lasgunand wept in terror, curling into a foetalball and waiting for death as the monstersapproached, the crash of brass-shodhooves sounding like the death of worlds.

Then Kohler screamed as he felt tonguesof lightning lash his body, jerkingspasmodically as the fire scorched hisflesh. He rolled onto his back, feeling hishair burn and tried to make sense of whathe saw before him. Flickering arcs of blueenergy leapt and danced above the glassyslag of the trench top, making the airtaste electric. Then with a crack ofdisplaced air the lightning vanished and inits place stood perhaps a hundred warriorsin suits of burnished blue-steel Terminatorarmour.

****************** Brother Captain Aurellian blinked rapidly,feeling the knot of tension in his gutrelax as his body adjusted after the massteleportation of his Grey Knights. He

stood on the lip of a snaking trench,filled with weeping and terrifiedGuardsmen. Ahead, he could see thesmoking remains of a smashed daemonengine and the explosion wreathedbattlefield. And striding across the crateredwasteland came Angron, Daemon Primarchof the World Eaters, the Fallen One. Adozen of the Blood God’s most favoureddaemons surrounded Angron, and Aurelliangripped his Nemesis weapon tightly,knowing that this battle would decide thefate of the world. With a pulse ofthought he ordered his warriors toadvance as Angron raised his sword inmock salute.

Aurellian marched forwards, the GreyKnights following in disciplined groups,their Nemesis weapons held before them.Waves of bloodlust broke against them,but their souls were hardened to resistsuch petty evils and not a man amongstthem faltered in his stride. A slaveringdaemon leapt into the air, its powerfulwings carrying it across the battlefield ina heartbeat. It landed before Aurellian,thick ropes of bloody saliva droolingfrom its jaws. It swung its giant axe in adisembowelling stroke, but he swept uphis force halberd, blocking the blow in ahalo of bright energy. He spun hisweapon and rammed the blade into thedaemon’s belly and tore upwards, ripping ascreech of pain from its jaws. Black lightspilled from the wound as Aurellianpulled his weapon free and beheaded themonster with one psychically chargedblow.

The daemon’s substance vanished, dispersedlike smoke in the wind and Angronbellowed in amusement, his skin splittingand orange flames blossoming from hisveins. The Daemon Primarch’s bestial facerippled in the heat haze, and Aurelliancould feel Angron’s hunger to fight them.

“The knights of the corpse god,” raspedthe Daemon Primarch in recognition, thevoice rumbling like a slow-movingavalanche. “I shall enjoy feeding you yourentrails.”

Aurellian did not reply. He had no wishto speak with a daemon; its words wereall falsehoods and its very presencehateful to him.

Thousands of throats gave voice to a roarof bloodlust as Angron and hisBloodthirsters stamped forwards, minesdetonating harmlessly against theirHolding the River Chaeron

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daemonic armour. Through the thunder ofexplosions, the daemons crashed into thethin Grey Knight line, axes flashing andwhips snapping. Aurellian saw half adozen of his warriors cut down instantly,shorn in two by shrieking daemonweapons. He tore his gaze away from thebattle around him as a pair ofBloodthirsters charged him and his squad.He widened his stance and braced hisweapon on the ground, shouting, “GreyKnights, hold!” as the first Bloodthirstersmashed into them. Its whip lashed out,shearing through a Terminator’s armourand cleaving him from collarbone topelvis. Aurellian lunged, jabbing his bladeat the monster’s head. Its axe smashedaside his blow and a brass hoof thunderedinto his breastplate, buckling the ceramiteand shattering the bone shield of hischest cavity.

Aurellian collapsed to his knees, fightingfor breath as another of his brothers fell,ripped apart by Angron, the piecesswallowed whole. Everywhere he looked,his warriors were falling, unable to matchthe unimaginable ferocity of these avatarsof the Blood God. Though they foughtbravely, with faith and nobility, it was nomatch for the primal savagery of theirdaemonic foes. But it was not a battlewithout cost for Angron and his daemons.Fully half his retinue were little morethan screeching shadows, their physicalvessels put asunder by the righteous wrathof the Grey Knights. Aurellian pushedhimself to his feet wincing as he felt thatone of his lungs was pierced. Angronswung his black sword in wide arcs,killing with every stroke and his glowingmusculature rippled with power. Aurelliansaw that the Daemons closest to Angrontowered above his Terminators, drawingtheir strength from the well of theDaemon Primarch.

He staggered towards Angron, using hisforce halberd to steady himself as hisbreath wheezed in his chest. The GreyKnights closed on their leader, forming animpenetrable shield wall around him asthey fought their way towards Angron.The Daemon Primarch saw his foeapproach and reared up to his full height,bellowing a furious challenge. Lessermortals might quail before this monster,but Aurellian and the Grey Knights hadbeen steeled to face the worst horrors ofChaos without flinching. Less than two-dozen of them were still alive, but theywere almost there. Daemons pressed in all

around them, attacking in a frenzy of axeblows and lashing whips. More GreyKnights fell, their blood mingling on thecratered earth as Angron and Aurellianfinally came face to face. At someunheard command, the Bloodthirsterspulled back, hissing with barely-restrainedbattle lust.

Time slowed and the world held itsbreath as man and monster faced oneanother. One, a devoted and loyal servantof the divine Emperor of Mankind, theother the basest traitor who had trampledon his oaths of loyalty and embracedultimate evil.

“You cannot win, Aurellian,” hissedAngron, planting his sword in the groundbefore him.

Aurellian spun his force halberd, assuminga relaxed fighting stance and pointed theblade at the Daemon Primarch’s heart.

“You underestimate me, traitor.”

“Perhaps, but I was one of yourEmperor’s chosen and I cannot bedefeated. You know this, Aurellian; I cansee it plain as day. Why must you fightand die here for a rotted corpse on aplanet you have never seen?”

“Because I must,” said Aurellian simply,thrusting his weapon towards Angron.

The Daemon Primarch laughed and battedaway the force weapon, scalding steamhissing from his iron skin. His clawedwings pounded the air as he fought,swirling dust and smoke around the

combatants. Aurellian blocked a blow meantto remove his head, feeling the jarringimpact numb his arm to the elbow, andducked the reverse stroke. He spun insideAngron’s guard and slashed his blade acrosshis foe’s flank, drawing a bellow of painand a wash of hot, black blood.

Angron smashed a club-like fist down onAurellian’s shoulder, driving him to theground and tearing his helmet from hishead. Lights exploded before Aurellian’seyes, but he saw the blow that would killhim arcing towards his head and threw uphis weapon to block it. Angron’s swordsheared through the haft of his forcehalberd and hacked through his arm in ashower of sparks and blood. The GreyKnight tumbled backwards, blood pouringfrom his arm, but miraculously still alive.Aurellian climbed to his feet, his armourtorn open in a dozen places, but hisstance still defiant. Blood was floodingfrom his body, too much for even theLarraman cells to halt. He could see hismen were fighting bravely, but werefalling one by one. Before long theywould all be dead. That they may die wasunimportant, but they must not fail intheir duty.

“Brothers! Defensive circle!” shoutedAurellian, though it sent hot spikes ofpain through his chest. The few survivingGrey Knights fought their way towardshim, forming a circle about their woundedleader.

Aurellian focussed all his hatred of theFallen One until it was an incandescent

Brother Captain Aurellian fights for his life.

??

power that burned within him andthreatened to consume his flesh unlessreleased. His battle-brothers felt the powerbuilding within him and, understanding thefinality of such powerful psychic energy,began doing likewise.

Angron roared, clearly sensing the build-up of their power, but either did not careor, in his arrogance, believed himself toopowerful to be harmed by it. He chargedtowards Aurellian, bellowing in fury.Aurellian felt the power of his fellowwarriors pulse through him and released itin a fiery corona of psychic energy. Hescreamed as the colossal forces wrackedhis shattered body, feeling the lifeenergies of three of his battle brothersfade as the power consumed them. TheBloodthirsters screeched in rage as thepower of the Grey Knights’ faith hitthem like a tidal wave, two bursting apartin an explosion of black ichor.

Angron roared in pain and Aurellianwatched as the furnace glow of his bodydiminished. The Daemon Primarchdropped to his knees, thick blooddrooling from his slack features. TheGrey Knight next to Aurellian fell, hisbody little more than a shrivelled sack ofbones within his armour. As Aurellianwatched, Angron’s form grew less solid,less real, as though his hold on thematerial realm was slipping. Even as heformed the thought, the DaemonPrimarch’s flesh began re-knitting as hisiron will held his form solid. Aurellianknew he would never get a better chancethan this and lurched forward, grippinghis force halberd by its splintered haftlike a sword. Angron lifted his bestialface in time to see Aurellian lift up hissword and drive it deep within his chest.Fat red sparks flew as the blade plungedinto the Daemon Primarch’s body, and hisroar of pain split the earth apart allaround him. Aurellian drew upon thedepths of his courage and unleashed hislast reserves of strength and faith throughthe force weapon in a blazing spear ofpurity.

He rejoiced as he felt Angron’s substancedissolving and knew that he had defeatedthe monster. He pushed the blade deeperand grunted in sudden pain as Angron’ssword plunged into his belly and toreupwards, ripping through his heart andlungs. He coughed blood, spattering thedaemon’s burning features and feeling hisown killing power ravaging him through

Angron’s blade. The Daemon Primarchsneered mockingly.

“If we are to die, we will die together,Aurellian. I will be reborn in the Warp,but your spirit-flesh will be devoured bydaemons for all eternity, and you willknow an immortality of agony…”

‘So be it!’ shouted Aurellian, and fulfilledhis duty.

******************Logan Grimnar watched the ten GreyKnights kneel in prayer around the fallenbody of their captain and bowed his headin respect. The battlefield was eerily quiet,the daemons having vanished like morningmist upon the destruction of Angron’sphysical form and the traitors, cultists andmutants falling back in disarray. A shaftof golden sunlight broke through theoppressive cloud layer and Grimnar felt asudden surge of optimism as he watchedhis Space Wolves mount up in theirRhinos to begin the pursuit anddestruction of the enemy. Mud-and-blood-caked Guardsmen began clambering dazedlyfrom their trenches, their faces lined withexhaustion and fear. A soldier, drenched inblood and black ichor from head to foot,staggered from the trench and dropped,weeping, to his haunches.

“They won,” he sobbed in relief, “I can’tbelieve they did it…”

Grimnar looked down at the man, seeinghis sergeant’s stripes through the blood onhis upper arm. The name Kohler wasstitched above it.

“Aye,” he said slowly. “They destroyed theBeast. But at what cost?”

The sergeant looked up, uncomprehendingas the Chapter Master of the SpaceWolves continued.

“A noble warrior of the Emperor fell this

day, Sergeant Kohler, and you will never

see a greater display of heroism,” said

Grimnar. “Remember what you have seen

here today.”

“I will,” nodded Kohler, but Logan Grimnar

had already turned and marched away.

The Imperium VictoriusWith their leader dead, the Chaos

hordes fell into disorder. The remnants

of the force repulsed at the River

Chaeron retreated completely as they

were counter-attacked by the Space

Wolves. Pursued across the Ash Wastes

by the combined forces of the Space

Marines and the mechanised Imperial

Guard Steel Legions, thousands of

cultists, mutants and traitors were

slaughtered without mercy. Bereft of

their daemonic allies, those invaders

who did not fall as they crossed the

polluted wastes were overtaken at

Minos Bridge. No quarter was offered

and their bodies were cast into the river

Minos and their corpses set alight,

turning it into a funeral pyre visible for

hundreds of miles in all directions. The

remains of the invaders drifted west, to

fall within the putrid depths of the

Plague Marshes, which remains a

region of palpable evil and corruption to

this day.

The Imperium had prevailed, though

virtually all of Armageddon Prime’s

industrial infrastructure had been

destroyed and the death toll was

beyond measure. Though Angron’s

forces were vanquished, his monolith

still stood, a beacon of inviolable evil in

the heart of the equatorial jungle and

its malign influence is as strong today

as ever it was.

The last of the traitors are overtaken at Minos Bridge.

??

Final BetrayalWith Angron and his hordes defeated,

the Administratum ruthlessly

suppressed all information regarding

the invasion. To allow the truth of what

had occurred on Armageddon to be

discovered would be to confirm the very

worst fears of the superstitious peoples

of the Imperium. Better they be kept in

ignorance, the Adepts reasoned, than be

forced to face the realisation that

Mankind faced such a diabolic threat.

The purge of the records began, but no

amount of historical revision could

erase the enormity of the events of

Angron’s invasion from the survivors.

Any other world would have been put

to death by the rites of Exterminatus

without hesitation. But Armageddon

was far too important to the

Imperium’s industrial machine to be

sacrificed in such a way.

Instead, the Administratum and the

Inquisition set in motion a plan that

would allow the planet’s industrial

capacity to recover, without the truth of

the conflict becoming known. Every

man, woman and child who had fought

against Angron’s horde was rounded up

by troops drafted in from other

warzones, sterilised and relocated to

enormous forced-labour camps situated

far to the south of Armageddon

Secundus. Millions were forced to live

out the remainder of their lives in

slavery, producing the raw materials

with which the world they had given

everything to defend would be rebuilt.

With the Hive cities all but empty, and

only the highest and mightiest

exempted from the cull, the

Administratum relocated millions of

workers from far-away sectors to

Armageddon to replace those who had

looked upon the face of Chaos and

lived.

Only one man dared protest against

this ultimate sanction, this most

craven of betrayals. Logan Grimnar,

Great Wolf of the Space Wolf Chapter

made his opposition plain, and,

privately, many agreed with him.

Though he could not sway the faceless

adepts of the Administratum, he has

never forgiven them, nor has he ever

forgotten the sacrifice of those who

fought by his side during the darkest

days of the First War for Armageddon.

Angron’s Horde…file ref. Krr44/993/11-193/2W……source: Ord Mal archive……input: Armag/first war…3837.M40

Extracted from the suppressed memoirsof Lord-General Gustav Karlson. II

COMPILER’S NOTE: Imperial scholarsoften refer to the constituent elements ofan invading host as ‘Cohorts’. A Cohortis generally said to consist of between1,000 and 5,000 men: the equivalent of anImperial Guard regiment in manpowerbut far inferior in terms of supportingunits.

WORLD EATERS COMPANIESAngron’s Chosen………………………1 CompanyThe Warband of Kossolax the Foresworn……………………………1 CompanyLord Skchalick’s Elite ……………1 CompanyThe Skull Takers of Hans Kho’ren……………………………1 Company

MUTANT COHORTS (Invaders)Jakob’s Kin …………………………………17 CohortThe Unsanctified ………………………2 CohortsThe Children of Garnacea ……31 CohortsKith of Nihil ……………………………4 CohortsTuskgor’s Tribe…………………………12 CohortsThe Mentes III Migration ……10 CohortsSyrcnsk’s Reavers ……………………18 CohortsThe Stigmatus Covenent …………11 CohortsOther groups ………………est 55-65 Cohorts

DAEMONHOST COVENSInner Circle ………………………est 20 CohortsSanctum Guard …………………………4 CohortsDaemonhosts……………………[SUPPRESSED]

TRAITOR TITAN LEGIONSLegio Vulcanum II ……………………………LegioLegio Mortis …………………………Demi-Legio

CULTS (Civilian groups that turnedtraitor at the outset of the war)The Eight Ways ………………………2 CohortsThe True Creed ………………………4 CohortsThe Cult of Noyade ………………12 CohortsChildren of Quietus ………………19 CohortsThe Justified Ancients ………………1 CohortOther groups ………………est 40-50 Cohorts

TRAITOR GUARD (Native units thatturned traitor at the outset of the war)Arm. Command Guard …………………2 CoysArm. Hive Militia…………………………80 RgtsArm. Steel Legion …………………………13 RgtsArm. Ash Waste Militia ………………3 Rgts

COMPILER’S NOTE: In addition tothese conventional formations, Angronsummoned countless numbers of[SUPPRESSED]: a situation that madestrategic planning near to impossible inmany theatres.

??

BROTHER CAPTAIN AURELLIAN OF THE GREY KNIGHTS

Recruited from the Feral World of Posul, it was clear that Aurellian was destinedfor greatness at an early age. His skill at arms was exceptional, and he had takenmany a foe’s head in battle and eaten their flesh before his thirteenth year. Thesepulchral fortress monastery of the Mortifactors Chapter of Space Marines orbitsPosul and draws its recruits from the planet’s fiercest warriors, and when theTime of Choosing came, there was little doubt among the tribes that the youngAurellian would be taken by the warriors from the sky. But as the Chaplains ofthe Mortifactors prepared Aurellian for the journey back to their fortress, agroup of silver-armoured warriors appeared from thin air and demanded they beallowed to take the youth. The Chaplains of the Mortifactors refused andattacked the newcomers, but the silver armoured warriors had powers beyond thatof the Chaplains and slew them. They took the youth to Titan where he quicklydistinguished himself in all aspects of his training, particularly with his mentalfortitude and prodigious psychic potential.

Aurellian quickly completed his training, fighting alongside the legendary BrotherCaptain Pelega during the Godjera Incursion and distinguishing himself at theBattle for the Kuroniak Basilica. On Prioran IV Aurellian was elevated to therank of Justicar after slaying the Warp Seer of Argento, who prophesised hisdeath. Centuries of devoted service followed, and Aurellian slew many daemonsand saved uncounted lives as he smote the followers of the Ruinous Powers.Aurellian rose to become a Brother Captain entrusted with the command of anentire company of Grey Knights and the safety of Segmentum Solar. Thus, whena desperate plea for aid came from Logan Grimnar on Armageddon, Aurellian andhis warriors were swift to respond. Departing on the fastest ship the AdeptusMechanicus could provide, the Seer of Argento’s final words echoed inAurellian’s mind, “…and on the world named for the end of days, you shall facethe Warrior Son of he you obey, and great will be the lamentation, for deathwill be your gift to the galaxy.”