=== Maximus ===
Gazing out into the vast, star-strewn expanse, Maximus stood silent inside the hanger. For a moment, everything was still—until reality tore itself asunder.
With a thunderous wrench, space itself split apart before his eyes. A massive rift yawned open like a wound in the galaxy, and from it emerged a brutal storm of metal and wreckage. Four mighty Battle Barges surged forward, followed closely by a shattered, drifting wreck. But behind them came the real threat.
Tomb Ships. Countless Necron vessels spilled through the rift as though spat from the mouth of a cosmic beast. All the ships tumbled chaotically, graceless and uncontrolled. The void echoed with their silent descent as they plummeted toward the dusty world of Geonosis below.
"By the Emperor..." Maximus breathed, his voice tight with awe and fury. He turned sharply to Bo-Katan, who had frozen mid-step, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"Deploy the Legion!" he barked.
Then, without hesitation, he threw himself through the energy field that separated the hangar from the void, his massive frame swallowed by the darkness of space.
"Shit!" Bo-Katan hissed, snapping out of her daze. She pivoted on her heel, bolting toward the command center. "Azure Talons, deploy! Now!"
Outside, Maximus rocketed toward Geonosis, his towering form clad in the heavily modified Centurion battlesuit. Over the long years stranded in this strange universe, he had allowed the Pyro Drakes to tinker with his armor—especially Raxor, whose mechanical genius had transformed it into a work of deadly art.
Now, that ingenuity paid off.
The suit's reinforced thruster pack roared to life, several newly added propulsion units unfolding from his back like wings of fire. Accelerating through the chaotic debris field, he moved like a meteor through the void.
The Necrons were the first to recover. Some of their ships stabilized and realigned mid-fall, green energy crackling as weapons powered up. Doom Scythes and Night Shrouds spread out like vultures, opening fire on anything that moved in their vicinity, sowing chaos amidst the wreckage.
Maximus didn't flinch.
With a thought, a massive blade unfolded from his right gauntlet, its edge humming with energy. He angled his descent and tore through the blackness, closing in on an unsuspecting Doom Scythe.
In a flash of steel and fury, he cleaved the ship clean in half, the two smoldering pieces spinning away into the void behind him. He didn't stop to watch it explode.
He hurtled through the void, scrap streaking past as the chaos of the unfolding battle consumed the space above Geonosis. All around him, ships spiraled out of control, their systems torn apart by the transit through the rift. Wreckage spun in every direction, a lethal ballet of steel and fire.
The tomb fleet had begun to reorient. Sleek, curved vessels shifted from drift to precision, stabilizing with inhuman efficiency. Green lightning flickered, arcing through the debris fields as they brought their weapons online mid-fall. The void became a warzone—silent, beautiful, and utterly deadly.
With the modified Centurion suit screaming at maximum output, his thrusters flared like miniature suns. He veered hard, slamming into a cluster of Necron Warriors who had been ejected from a broken transport. Their metallic forms shattered as he spun through them, his blade a blinding arc of cerulean energy.
A Doom Scythe banked sharply above him, lining up for an attack run on a crippled Imperial ship struggling to stabilize its descent. Maximus surged forward, angling his flight to intercept. He ignited his blade, let the momentum carry him, and carved the Scythe from nose to stern—watching it rupture into drifting shards behind him.
Shrapnel rained around him, pinging off the armor as he stabilized himself with a burst of his thrusters. Ahead, another group of Necron constructs latched onto a free-falling Thunderhawk, crawling like parasites across its hull, attempting to breach through emergency bulkheads.
Not on his watch.
The Ultramarine activated his mag-locks and slammed into the ship's side. With brutal efficiency, he tore through the constructs, ripping one clean off and flinging it into the void before punching another through the hull. The ship's crew barely had time to react before his form rocketed away again, leaving only broken bodies and scorched metal in his wake.
Around him, the Battle Barges began to right themselves, their thrusters firing as drop pods launched in waves towards Geonosis.
Thunderhawks streaked down into the atmosphere, carving burning trails behind them. The battle was shifting—but the enemy wasn't finished.
Necron ships activated in sync, forming a loose formation that hovered across the void like ancient sentinels. Their weapons glowed with crackling green energy, targeting descending Imperial ships with ruthless precision.
Maximus locked eyes on them through his HUD.
The Centurion's thruster arrays flared with a deafening roar as Maximus shot forward, a spear of vengeance ripping through space. He dodged between chunks of shattered starships, twisted metal and broken glass whipping past him. The Tomb ships loomed, their weapons ready to fire.
But he struck first.
With a war cry that echoed across the void, Maximus drove his blade into the heart of the first craft, carving through its armor and detonating its core in a blinding burst of green fire. He tumbled out the other side, smoke trailing from his armor, then fired another burst to steady himself as the second ship opened fire.
Bolts of gauss energy seared past him, one grazing his shoulder plate. Damage warnings blinked red across his visor—but he didn't slow down.
For every Imperium ship falling toward the surface, he would carve a path. For every Necron that dared to rise, he would strike them down.
The gravity well of Geonosis pulled harder now.
Maximus could feel it even through the Centurion's inertial dampeners—the steady tug of the planet below, the thinning edge of void giving way to turbulent upper atmosphere. The stars above began to fade behind plumes of reentry fire, and the once-silent war became a storm of flame and fury.
The first of the smaller ships—frigates, strike cruisers, and broken escort vessels from each side began to falter.
Their engines sputtered, guidance systems corrupted from the warp-breach jump. Trails of black smoke and plasma followed them as they were torn apart by atmospheric friction or slammed directly into the dusty surface below in cataclysmic explosions. Fireballs blossomed across the barren landscape, and from orbit, it looked as though the planet itself had begun to bleed.
One by one, Imperial ships and Necron vessels alike became falling wreckage.
Maximus spun through the chaos, carving past a tumbling Predator tank that had been flung from a drop platform. He twisted mid-flight, raising his arm to intercept a Necron Canoptek Wraith that lunged toward him like a coiled serpent. The energy blade roared to life and he bisected it cleanly, its halves trailing sparks as they fell towards the planet, swallowed by the growing fires below.
Ahead, a Necron Scythe spiraled out of control, its thrusters long dead. It slammed into a descending Imperial Valkyrie, both ships disintegrating in a flash of metal and light.
As if on cue, the Avenger of Calth, one of the Ultramarines' surviving Battle Barges, stabilized in low orbit. Its retro-thrusters blazed, leveling it out above the largest canyon on Geonosis. Macrocannons rotated into position, and gun batteries roared to life, painting the skies below with streaks of firepower.
The Necron flagship, a crescent-shaped vessel the size of a city, tried to mirror the maneuver, but failed and eventually slammed into the sands of Geonosis.
Below them, the mid-tier ships fought for control. Some slammed into the planet as well, exploding into burning craters. Others skidded along the surface, throwing up waves of dust and flame. Screams and garbled cries for aid flooded the Imperial vox-net.
Maximus saw a Thunderhawk spiraling out of control—fire bursting from its side. Without a second thought, he redirected course and blasted toward it, catching the hull mid-fall and gripping the wing hard enough to tear it straight. His thrusters screamed as he slowed its descent, guiding it toward a patch of rocky terrain away from the worst of the chaos.
The Thunderhawk struck ground hard—but it slid rather than shattered.
Maximus hit the surface seconds later, a crater forming where his boots touched down. The Centurion suit hissed, releasing steam from its overloaded joints. Alarms buzzed in his HUD, but he shut them out.
Behind him, Necron constructs rained down like falling stars—Monoliths, Doomsday Arks, and swarms of Scarabs descending in synchronized waves before exploding as they landed.
Above, the Battle Barges and capital ships hovered protectively, unleashing orbital strikes, targeting anything with Necron signatures.
The surface burned. The sky bled. And through it all, Maximus stood—scarred but unbroken.
He looked to the heavens as drop pods began to punch through the clouds, slamming into the earth around him like thunderbolts.
"Lord?" Bo-Katan's voice crackled through the vox-net, strained but steady.
"I'm still here," Maximus replied, his voice like distant thunder. He could feel her relief even through the cold distortion of the channel.
"Drop the pod on my location."
A pause. Then her voice, resolute: "Very well, Lord."
Seconds later, the heavens answered.
A massive drop pod pierced the cloud layer above like a meteor, flames wreathing its form as it screamed toward the surface. It crashed into the earth with a thunderous BOOM, shaking the ground and sending a shockwave through the battlefield. Dust and shrapnel flew into the air as the pod buried itself in the scorched soil, just beyond the smoldering wreck of the Thunderhawk.
Maximus activated his thrusters and launched himself forward, his armored form cutting through the smoke like a blade. He landed just as the pod began to hiss and release steam from its internal pressure. With a heavy clank, the side panels exploded outward, slamming into the ground and revealing the payload within.
An arsenal worthy of a god of war.
Rows of custom-forged weapons gleamed in the firelight, secured in reinforced racks—tools of destruction designed only for one wielder.
Maximus stepped forward, his heavy footfalls echoing in the stillness between bombardments. With deliberate reverence, he reached out and took hold of the massive shield with his left hand. Its surface bore the sigil of the Ultramarines, scorched and carved deep into plates of adamantium and reinforced Beskar. A field emitter along its rim flickered to life, surrounding the shield in a faint halo of blue energy.
Then, he turned to the hammer.
The Warhammer—named Judicator—rested in its cradle like a sleeping beast. Forged from pure Beskar and tempered by Raxor, it was a weapon worthy of legend. Its haft alone was thicker than a man's torso, and the head bore runes etched by his brother. Fitted to its back was a thruster unit—more akin to a rocket than a booster—built to deliver crushing, kinetic force when activated.
No mortal could lift it. No battle-brother outside a Centurion frame could even carry it.
Maximus wrapped his gauntleted fingers around the haft and lifted it with ease.
As he turned back toward the battlefield, the wind howled around him. Above, the sky burned with fire and descent—Necron and Imperial ships still falling, still fighting for dominance in the broken void above.
The Warhammer locked into his gauntlet with a heavy thunk. The shield activated fully, casting a radiant shimmer as it formed an impenetrable field. He stood framed in smoke and flame, a living monument to war.
"Bo-Katan," he said through the vox, voice low and focused.
"Yes, Lord?"
"I'm heading into the dead zone. Signal the Talons to follow. Tell them to lock in for a long fight."
"Acknowledged. All wings converging on your signal."
Maximus glanced to the horizon. There, silhouetted against the rising dust, a wave of Necron constructs advanced through the wreckage—silent, unyielding, endless.
He rolled his shoulders. The Centurion suit flexed with a mechanical growl.
"Time to make the ground tremble."
And with that, he charged.
===
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