The roar of gunshots was present almost immediately. Those of us who advanced on the front line zigzagged between luck and the protection of the Emperor to reach positions with the rest, before a nameless projectile found an end to our path. My body threw him to the ground as soon as I found a hole deep enough, where four other soldiers slightly poked their heads and weapons to return fire.

Soldiers from Malfi's 9th company who had not seen me before, but whose expressions turned to astonishment and fear, when they identified the subject who rushed to their side, wearing a commissioner's uniform.

My words, almost in a scream, shook their minds, as I desperately asked for Captain Fordo's location. The unit sergeant gave me some vague instructions amidst the hail of gunfire, and although I didn't like having to move forward, I had no other reference.

My fearful legs gathered courage a second time, and ignoring how those soldiers called me crazy, I continued my desperate race towards the front, where the danger was increasingly imminent. And finally I found it.

-Captain! —An exasperated scream escaped my mouth, as I threw myself onto a mound of dirt right next to him.

-Commissar!? —He asked almost in shock. —What are you doing here!?

That was a very good question. A question for which he had no answer. Unable to control my nervousness, I looked up slightly over my cover, only to be met with the reality of our situation.

At least five hundred meters separated us from the greenskin horde, while more enthusiastic orks abandoned their positions to attack us. Orks who were quickly felled by the millions of shots, both laser and ballistic, traveling in both directions.

I raised my gun above my head, and emptied an entire magazine before returning to cover. Aiming was not necessary, because with so many enemies, my shots would eventually find a target. What he didn't know was if he had really contributed something to this battle with such a pathetic attempt at resistance. So, I confronted the captain a second time.

—We must resist, captain! We are all that remains!

—And the reinforcements!? —My expression said it all.

—Only the Light of the Emperor.

I see Fordo grit his teeth, clearly not satisfied with my answer, but as aware as I am that we had no alternatives. However, the sudden ringing of my wristwatch told me that our only hope would not take long to arrive.

—What's happening!? —The captain asked when he heard the sound of my watch.

—In two minutes. Our artillery will destroy all sectors from 12 to 15.

-That is...

—Yes captain. The ground is going to shake a little. But after that... There will be no more support.

A small, satisfied smile appeared on Fordo's face. A sign of his own hope, although my last words also fell on his shoulders like buckets of ice water.

In less than two minutes, a four kilometer strip four hundred meters from our position would be razed to the foundations of the subsoil, testing the fury of the ballistic power of imperial engineering. And judging by the speed of the horde's advance, and if everything remained as it is now, their main forces of meganobles would be located right in that position. With enough luck, we would only have to exterminate the straggling orks. And... just maybe, we would be able to hold this position for another ten minutes. Maybe more. But none of us were prepared for what was going to happen.

-Behold! Over there!

The voice of a nearby soldier caught our attention, while with his hand he pointed in a direction ahead. It's a miracle that a projectile hadn't blown his head off at that moment, before his unit sergeant pushed him back to safe ground. However, fear and curiosity took over me, fearing that it was some sudden ork force that would jeopardize our already pathetic attempt at resistance. But it wasn't.

I took my binoculars and peered lazily over the ground that protected me, and my gaze was directed ahead, where I could find nothing to particularly draw my attention to the greenskin formations, until a sudden glow fell on the lens of my device.

"They're angels," I let out in an almost whisper.

They weren't orks. They were the Emperor's Angels. Black Templars, which I barely managed to differentiate between the commotion. There were three of them, maybe four. One looked wounded, while the rest battled the scattered greenskins that were charging at them. Everyone, in a desperate battle. A desperate battle three hundred meters in front of our position.

—Angels!? —Apparently, Fordo was able to hear me. —What the hell are they doing there!?

That was a very good question. A question that arose in my mind, but was quickly crushed by a terrifying thought, but not at all devoid of logic.

If anyone read these sentences, they would immediately accuse me of treason and condemn me to eternity of servitude, but back then, I really thought about leaving them to their fate. However, knowing that Fordo also knew it put me in a delicate situation. After all, abandoning the Emperor's Angels was a sin and high treason.

Desperately I looked at my watch. One minute and forty seconds for the artillery response. If I had to do something, it had to be done now and quickly. It was 300 meters of plowed field, but the Astartes were dangerously close to the area that would be devastated. Was the life of 4 Emperor's Angels more significant than the lives of the hundreds of men around me? As much as it is difficult for me to admit it, the answer is:

 - Yes -

The sound of my whistle alerted everyone present. Even Fordo, who was next to me, looked at me in shock as he watched me stand up. From his expression, she could tell that he wasn't expecting me to come forward... But it was too late.

The sound of a commissioner's whistle means one thing only. In front. Even in his stupor, Fordo rose from the ground and ran after me, towards the Astartes position. I didn't know how many we were. I couldn't turn around and look back. But from the rumble of the ground behind me, I knew that there were not a few of us.

As we approached, laser blasts rained down on the orks surrounding the Astartes. Countless aces of light that gave the Emperor's Angels a second of rest, as we walked the few meters that separated us.

It was him. The black shield Nullus, next to his people, now, with a wounded white-armored Astarte, lying on a rock. I had lost sight of him since we moved forward, and honestly, I thought I would never find him again. At least not in life.

-Commissar? —His surprise was evident when he saw me, but time would not allow me to show formalities.

—Your excellency! We must retreat! Now! —The Astarte only nodded.

—Help him!

One of the angels in black approached and took the fallen one in white under his shoulders. He groaned in pain as he was moved, but did not put up any resistance. Judging by the notches in his ceramite armor, this white-clad warrior seemed to have fought a calamity, for he had cut marks on both his limbs and his abdomen, where already coagulated blood stained his pale defense.

The Astartes in black were not shiny either, as their armor had considerable marks, but at least these seemed to remain in one piece. Although judging by the huge chainsaws in their blood-stained hands, I assumed their bolter ammunition had long since run out.

—Retreat!

My voice rose from the roar of war, and we raced back to our starting position. Only then, in that desperate retreat, could I see all the men and women who had fallen to save three Emperor's Angels and one wounded man.

In my heart, and in my mind, there was no room for comfort. Only duty... And as much as it makes me bitter to think about it, fear. Spending the rest of eternity embedded in a wall, with dozens of conduits crossing my body in eternal agony, causes my values ​​and principles to shake from their foundations. However, whether it was luck or destiny, I managed to get back to our initial position, throwing myself headlong into the first hole I found between the improvised trenches.

Ten

The screams of my comrades-in-arms did not haunt us, as we sheltered from the imminent omen that was bearing down on the battlefield.

Nine

The trenches were not that big, but next to me there was a hole big enough for the Black Templar to leave that dying Astarte in white next to me, while he, together with the Black Shield Nullus, took defensive positions with the rest.

Eight

Only then could I see the extent of the Astarte's wound. Three claw marks had removed part of its belly. The fact that he was still alive was a miracle of the Emperor, even as the bruised pieces of ceramite fell in pieces to the ground.

Seven

I turn around, and I identify an Astra Militarum soldier with the only distinction of the white band on his shoulder pad. With a wave of my hand and a shout I get his attention, and he runs in my direction.

Six.

Then I see her. A young girl landing next to me. One, whose eyes widen when she sees the enormous astarte next to me, dying and with its belly wide open requiring medical attention.

Five.

—Save him! —The girl's face soon shows surprise and terror.

—But commissioner! That's here...!

—Just do it!

Four.

The girl falls silent at my words, but the momentary fear that disobeying the order of someone wearing my uniform outweighs the consequences of doing something that could be considered heresy in the eyes of some.

Three.

The field medic approaches, and quickly analyzes the Astarte's wound, who makes a vain attempt to stop the bleeding with her hand. He takes some utensils from his equipment, and before even approaching, he looks up at the head of the Astarte in white, whose expression under that helmet is indecipherable.

Two.

I just wait, in that ephemeral second where the Astarte remains motionless, as if it were analyzing the situation. His red face did not move away from the doctor in front of him, and I was already rethinking my decision. However, the fact that he put his own arm aside was enough to make the doctor and I understand. That it was his wish to be attended to.

One

My sights return to the front, while the last second of my watch's countdown announces the arrival of the artillery salvoes. From a distance, cannon shots were heard, and destruction on the lands in front of our positions was imminent. However, an idea froze my spinal cord, realizing something as soon as I returned to the front view.

Why did the ork formations seem to have not moved at all?

Zero.

The whistle of projectiles did not wait, and we all took cover underground, while the imperial weapons power devastated everything our eyes were once able to see. The earth shook. Our ears had to withstand the pressure of the shock waves, and the roar of gunfire was silenced by the brutality of the gunpowder and the destruction of the artillery salvos. Leaving everything in a dead silence after a few fleeting seconds. All while an icy doubt settled in my chest. Something gave me a very bad feeling.