Death Korps of Krieg meets the Justice League

Chapter IX

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The sound that surrounds them; the screams of the millions of billions who became blinded and corrupted, who had forsaken the graces of the God-Emperor, and turned to the wretched wicked hand of the Chaos Gods. Those souls who are here, are the perfidious xenos and traitorous heretics. Fools who believed in the Ruinous Power, and sacrificed everything that they were to serve.

Within the warp itself, the remnant of the 107th Siege Regiment fell into an endless depth. Forced to exist within and along the condemned, as the shifting tide of the immaterium would in time drive any man into madness or bend them into the clutches of the very Gods the Imperium opposed. But these soldiers were no ordinary men, but faithful and zealous followers, that even those that were the most ruthless would at least think twice about combat with these Death Korps.

As the situation is so, the surviving 107th Death Korps Regiment shall at the moment await in idle within the warp, as their time will come once more.

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Coming to awake from a well-slept rest, the Grenadier emits a small groan as it felt a certain heaviness and an entirely unspoken exhaustion. To which in a split moment, he had contemplated that maybe it had to do something with the rather comfortable soft bed. In which the Grenadier had begun comparing the rest in the trenches, to that of the current setting.

'I miss the trench.'

He preferred the rough and dangerous terrain than that of the living quarter. Until he deduced in an admittedly acknowledgment – that he has never truly had slept – to that he has always rested with an eye open. Absurdly not due to fear at being unsuspectedly raided, instead, the disliking thought at perhaps of simply falling asleep.

"Good morning, Hylric."

As a response to the greeting, he moved in haste as he stood at attention. However, as opposed to the clean, firm and adequate posture displayed by the Grenadier – the Watchmaster was prompted in for a relaxed, and nonchalant pose. "That would be enough." The Watchmaster lazily waved a dismissive hand towards the subordinate.

"In case I have not said so before, only act the way an Imperial Guardsman is expected when in other's presence. Otherwise, be at ease if it is just – us – as you know I am not a Kommisar, so I won't act too strict on you."

The Watchmaster explained, with courtesy of a little notion of sympathy – a fragment of a personality of the individual korpsman; Masha.

Resuming in on her task with dirtied and oil-stained gloves, she continued disassembling the gears further apart as she laid them neatly organized – all of each has been thoroughly cleaned and inspected of grease.

Although maintenance checks are a regular basis on a guardsmen duty, the imperial machinery and weapons issued and sanctum are taught to be treated with respect, to appease the Omnissiah – The Machine God that dwells in every aspect of machine.

Though in the Watchmaster's own term and volition – enjoyed it – rather than see it as just another form of prayers to the Omnissiah, or duty. In a matter of fact, she has had found odd tranquility in doing the humble task. It almost acting like a brief euphoria.

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Focused with all the attention at hand, the Watchmaster had been late at noticing the approaching Grenadier who had taken the liberty of joining in as he took the vacant seat.

Not soon after, the Grenadier had begun to imitate the Watchmaster as he started on disassembling his own gun. To which as the korpsman continued unknowing and oblivious to the blunt stare from the Watchmaster, it had taken her a moment before she opted to further interact.

"Grenadier 017823-9348-Hylric"

The Watchmaster intended in addressing the subordinate in a formal approach. Which produced in an immediate effect; sharp shoulders, back straightened, head faced forward and a salute to complete the look.

Lo and behold a Death Korps Guardsman at attention

'Despite my earlier claims on – not to be so alerted – he is quick to adapt.'

"What are your thoughts on being a Grenadier?" the Watchmaster questioned, as their filtered breath soon nearly began to deafen any other sound than the intimidating gas noise, and the soul-piercing look from their gas mask.

In a general expectation, as in all cases, all the previous Grenadiers would or may had responded with 'It would be an honor to fight and die', and further such. Which would only prove to indicate that those korpsmen would either both prioritize in the completion of the mission, or their personal wishes for death in homage and tribute for their ancestral sins.

Imagine the thought, should a korps guardsman had rather opted to fight and die, than actually completing the mission.

But to the Watchmaster's absolute surprise, she received.

"More opportunities to serve the God-Emperor, and the Imperium."

'Perfect'

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