It's the Forty-second millennium and the Imperium is divided in two, the consequences of the fall of Cadia still very vivid even after 500 years, under the leadership of Roboute Guilliman and with the strong arms of his Primaris marines, the Imperium push back, slaying the tide of enemies that tried to foster within his father´s Imperium, from within and without, their foes too many to count, their deeds too long to list, but not even that could stop the machinations that was to come.

The Great Rift finally had closed the chaotic jaw of unreality closing with the force of a million supernovas, sending a single massive shock wave of interdimensional energies travels from the Crimson Path, a wave of madness made manifest with every single inhabitant feeling the chaotic wrath.

Orks waargs lose their momentum as the Waarg fields were dragged by the wave, their scrap-made warmachines being destroyed as the space contracts and expand, the scrapyard that are orks ships became hunks crushing their occupants.

The shadow in the warp of the hive fleets being overwhelmed by the madness of materium-imaterium wave, the lesser Tyranids reversing to animalistic instincts as the greater organism scattered themselves, using this opportunity of temporary freedom, several norn-queens reforge their on DNA to sever their connections operantly from the hive mind, scattering to create their hive minds of the very own.

Those who the souls were touched by the warp ready or not where put to the test of their lives, the weaker who could not resist, become conduits to demonic invasions on tens of thousands of worlds, those who had were killed by the masses of desperate zealots that survived the reality wave, even if after the wave the warp abates, those who could communicate thought it would see the galactic scale beacon that was launching from the expanded Eye of Terror to the intergalactic void, an unreal color dwarfing the astronomicon, burning man and daemon alike that dare to stare into the uncolorful madness.

For 100 days and 99 nights, the warp was incandescent with corrupting energies, busting Gellar fields and burning all those who tried to jump to the warp.

In this time of need, the avenging archangels , first unlashed to fight against the darkness showed their hided nature, as the flaws on the gene seed manifested as the ticking time bomb almost 2/3 of the Primaris turn from the light of the Emperor, many as renegades, some as chaos worshipers, all flawed in their self-serving ways.

In the desperate times, the iron was forged, and from the iron cometh it´s lord, has Another Primarch was Remade a new on this galaxy, Perturabo, the Lord of Iron had return.

It´s the Fifty first millennium, when dreams become ashes, and the living fight on the shadows of thirsty gods.

Section 1: The Hearts of Iron and The Siege of Banna.

As the story of many other realms that seceded from the Imperium, The Armored Core was born in the aftermath of the Closing of the Great Rift, yet, is possible to trace it´s foundation back to the early M42, in those vengeful years of war against the great enemy, several new chapters of primaris marines were created from the Grayshields by the orders of the Lord Commander as the Indominus Crusade demanded a series of new warriors to a series of specialized tasks, one of those was the Chapter Hearts of Iron.

To understand the history of the Armored Core is needed to understand the Hearts of Iron, to understand them, we need to look upon the battle that start their brutalization, the Siege of Banna, or as it would be known, The Siege of a Thousand Thousend Shards.

Their renewed was won in the first years of the crusade, as they spearheaded the Siege of Banna, taking back the civilized world that was overtaken by the Dark Mechanicus, what was to be a long drawing siege that would stall elements of the crusade, lasted 1 year.

Tens of ships entered the system, led by the Strike Cruiser Tylone, sieged the world of Banna with pin-point orbital bombardment, flattering buildings and constructions, glassing all defenses and formations around the demi hives of the world.

The ground campaign was more brutal, as the hellblaster squads and the mechanized elements of the 5th company, led by Capitan Rimvald Brucius battled on the still hot stone fields against biomechanical tanks, made from the flesh of the innocent and powered by its tortuous suffering, flanked by several hordes of sevitors and conscript battalions, running on the hot ground until their skin melted and ripped off of the naked foots as they ran to the chapter´s lines.

Continent after continent were stormed and captured by Imperial's forces, the civilian population ''willingly'' enlist to fight against the horrors that found roots in their world, as they closed to the stronghold on the eastern most peninsula or the largest continent of the planet, there, Phalis, a demi-hive that once prospered in raw industrial production for the loyal governor, now had change its colors, and with it, the main arsenal of the world, stored on the deeps of a formidable fortress.

In those dark days under the domain of the traitors, the city had seen its hundreds of forges working on flesh, as the blood and guts of its tens of millions of workers were mixed with infernal machines, awaiting the ritual on the heart of the city to finally end.

The sea had receded more than 10 km from the coast, orbital bombardment glassed every inch of land and sea around the peninsula, flattering mountains and glassing valleys, the ring of fire and death was visible for days from orbit , as the forces gathered there for the final assault.

In hours, the squads of primaris marines rallied the mortal forces across the world , before night fall, half of the 5th company and half a million auxilia and others 2 million of the popular militia would encircle the fortification on the top of a mountain, a circular fortress over 10 km in diameter, the outmost ring being what the void shield could save from annihilation, hundreds of industrial parks and ore storages and it´s tens of millions of workers that tried its best to fortify the place, the outer wall made to delay the enemy as long as possible, tens of paths for mechanized and infantry watched by pillboxes and melta lancers and anti-personal weaponry, with the inner wall being a continuous fortification with the full armaments to counter land base or orbital bombardment, a formidable fortress even before the arrival of the Heretek.

The self-proclaimed Flesh Forger Kanabidiori Savalipeia and brought his Crawling Fectariuns, caterpillar-like living forges made with the wombs of the mortal and feed with meat, resources, semen and breast milk to create living bodies that the daemons could inhabit, robust enough to resist the mutations that allowed control and a level of standardization at the price of the youngest souls.

The populations fall far deep into the path of chaos weeks after the arrival of the Flesh Forger, taken by the promises of easier lives granted by technology, as him promises a plenty that could only be rivaled by the era of the Dark Age of Tech.

The Heretek put the use those who his words deceived and the decades of storage resources, made him capable of spawning entire armies of hell spawn machinery, in preparation, Kh´hra The New Mtê, a daemon that feeds on the frustration and bloodshed, was invoked and fused with the Void Shields generators of the fortress, the bubble of energy had been reinforced to a demonic degree, simply standing after several days of continues orbital bombardment and vanishing, just to appear in the right place of another macro shell, artillery ordinance and missiles, more than 9 months of siege and the generator still playing the siege game as the void shield itself laughs and mocks the fleet above, daring them to push harder and harder, as the defenders used their on weapons against the ships in orbit, nothing would disturb the heretek grand dark ritual.

The half million auxiliary troops and the reinforced militia, now in the 5 million, gathered from the local population was ordered by Lord General Lero Matarazz to move and prepare the next phases of constructions and siege crafts, the mountain range was gone, replaced by a single rocky pillar surrounded by a flat terrain in 10 km in every direction of semi-molten glass.

The 5 million strong militia seen themselves becoming the labor core of the army, making the siege crafts on the desert of tainted glass, close enough to avoid the orbital guns depression angles, but on the range of the still formidable land artillery battery, each living ammo was fired with hundreds of daemon-infested placenta´s fragments made into a cluster bomb, each middle sized fragment would hit and infest whoever wasn´t killed with chaotic energies.

The final months of preparation had seen the continuation of the bombardment, with the artillery batteries on the ground serving only in the defense against the endless waves of the Flesh Forger´s forces, as every day, from human shapes of molten glass shooting burst of semi solid obsidian glass, to skin clad main battle tanks, hovering with the constant smog of putrid gases and berserker machine flesh creations, wanting to rip and tear with all four of its limbs and hell fire breath.

The everyday fight to live was a brutal, but effective teacher, as the siege-crafts were complete, 2 million attackers had come to the light of the emperor ,if their deaths wasn´t from the claws of soul harvesters, and finally, the guns on the ground start their song of death and destruction in full force, as their cleansing fire shattering the glass-fields and halt the waves after waves of daemon things, as the Repulsors, Impulsors and Custom Grav Vindicators take the battlefield, their heavy siege guns being more than enough to end the unholy lives of anything that could survive the bombardment in the front, the grav generators allowed those tanks to move as fast as the Impulsors, even if with not the same grace and operation time.

Butchering and cleansing the daemon metal flesh that quickly decays, the astartes advanced, the mortal forces taking the heavier guns, giving the closest indirect fire that the marines could need, in a hour of intense combat, several makeshift trench lines were dug up and set, the harded labor and auxiliary forces make their way 5 km into the flatlands, bringing more of the indirect fire, the mortals follow the example of their avenging angels, never tiring, never relenting, as the guns could not stop shooting, fall to the mortals to keep the ammo flowing.

On the front lines, the constant stress and fatigue that their brothers endure in killing the constant flow of scrap quality daemon engines that survived the bombardment and the occasional maulerfiends and other bigger engines was killing the forces, was mounting on them, entire squads had already died, others are getting so tired that the posthuman physique was running on pure determination and busted muscle until they could be rotated out.

As they getting closer to the pillar, stronger and more intense was the hate of the daemon things, and more accidents happen on the logistic lines, ammunition rotting, suddenly messy rotation schedules, ill maintenance of equipment, every small error building up.

5 days later, the continues offensive reach the forwards lines of defenses on the steps of the ''Phallic Womb'', the nickname given to enemy fortress by the Imperials, trying an attempt to rush upwards and continue the offensive.

Not a second to late, Kh´hra change its concentration, proving that was him that was constantly causing the minor mishaps as one of the temporary ammo deps ignite into flames, bolters and auto cannons shells, high explosives, promethium and energy batters exploded into laughing clouds, the tainted debris corrupting the bodies of the mortals with enough power to make their still living bodies fuse with the glassy ground, transforming them into the foot soldiers used in this war, in minutes, the lines was crumbling, with the still exhausted marines jumping back to the fight, trying to stabilize the front line, in meanwhile, the sudden weakening of the void shield put all the fleets back to full bombardment stance, the order changing in the last moment, as the bombardment could kill the entire ground forces.

The light bombardment of the structure damaging the outermost layers, but such HQ fortress was made with such bombardment in mind, as the structure transferee kilotons of residual energy to the soil before the shield came back again.

The half of the 5th company sees itself surrounded as their mortal auxiliary troop were killed by the spawning enemy and the daemons, that tried to capitalize in the encirclement of the Astartes, death comes in the shape of tens of maulerfiends and thousands of forge-spawns, slowly and brutally, the enemy reverse the advancing of the astartes, in after the first week of continues assault was reversed, all advanced lost in 3 agonizing days of retreat, 3 squads of marines were dead, others 4 wounded in dire need of care of the field Helix Adepts and the cruder attendances of the half teached mortals that barely keep them alive for time enough that they could be saved.

Thunderhalks bringing the reserves of the company, 2/3 of the 5th was in combat now, and with the reinforcements, bringing down to the combat Rimvald with new wargear, clad in his now modified armor, it´s micro fusion reactor overclocked, and capable of using reactive armor, armed with his custom power gauntlet, 5 Fingers of Ruination. With him, His Chaplain, Gunje Malfactio, and Uran Hellaprov, the Tech Priest of the Company.

Molding the terrain with artillery, Rimvald preparade the grounds as him ordered a series of multiple mortals and astartes assaults and retreats, sending ground and bending the constant flow of forces to a series of artillery kill zones.

The constant construction and destruction of the front lines was taking it´s tow on the mortal forces as they need to make, remake and defend their positions in time before the enemies had advanced against them.

Meanwhile, the Tech Marine is divesting the plan of the Capitan, hastily constructing a ground base weapon that could launch the Magma bombs and macro shells from the ground.

For a month, the attack and retreat strategy gained ground more and more, as the enemy waves relent, their numbers growing thin as the defensive lines grows thicker, the attrition starting to mount on them as was to the attackers, their assumption would been proven wrong, masked by the constant artillery fire, tunnels dug up by the Dark Skitari and combat servitors exploded their ends open.

The driven forces of the Skitari controlled and focus the less aggressive daemons and machines, as they rushed their way to the 50 meter-long unfinish railgun, the militia rush to formation as fast as they were massacred, as the children and elderly that made the rear lines have to fight for their lives, hunter-patties splint from the main assault , harvesting kids and women for their dark rituals, the males were used to form more of the cannon fodder of the glass soldiers, the woman transform in single-use Crawling Fectariuns, in minutes, they busted with several insect-like daemon bots crawling from their dead bodies.

Forces rushed to defend the artillery batteries, pillboxes and storage bunkers were looted and desecrated, supplies were infected with a myriad of plagues, the anti-air guns on the rear lines aim down to hold their advance, hold for a reinforcement that will not come in time, even as the artillery ceased it´s continues bombardment and turned their guns in direct fire of the formations, blasting apart hundreds at a time, but with such fragile structure that was the unfinish gun, even a handful of Dark Skitari could destroy the weapon.

In minutes, the invasion party was in sight of the grandiose siege-ending machine, on instinct, Uran´s logos adepts tried to rush against the enemy to defend their creations, but the Techmarine ordered them to prepare the weapon to shoot, the neophytes complied, but they knew the cost, the force of the ignition would render the machine a pile of scrap metal, they operated the heavy pistons manually as the Techmarine tries to aim the unfinish gun, the engensiers keep trying to continue with rituals and incantations to appease the infantile machine spirit, still too young to war.

Uran stomped on the crawling daemon bots that swarm him, fighting with the controls of the gun, at this stage, even a literal mountain-size target, the weapon could not guarantee the hit, in the muzzle break of the gun, rushed incantations and seals are stamped by the desperate religious Tech Priests , the fragile sides being at shooting range of the Skitari, but the venerable wave of bodies and the constant threat of the dull ammo of the artillery kept then at bay.

The prize was in their front, untold fortunes and pleasure's that the destruction of this weapon would bring to those in the front line, they rush as desperate men-machines to the lines, their bodies and of those mortals in a 100m around the gun were torn apart by the shockwave from the despairing mother of all shells flying to the air, the Logos Adept being throw away like rag dolls, crimpled and broken, Uran´s armor bend as the shockwave of the destruction of the gun, the titanic bullet flying in the fraction of the velocity that it was made to, the tank-size round cast its shadow upon the battlefield, the mounted weapons of the Flesh Forger´s stronghold spit their fire in the hope of ignite the magma round in midair.

The shell hits, for a second, the metallic ogive could be seen to expand and bend under the pression of a thousand tons of ordinance exploding, star-hot magma burst in a supernova of death, the rain of molten metal covering the glass fields that once again seems itself covered and its occupants with a layer of hotness, bolts of molten shrapnel killing heretical and imperial forces alike, their senses overloaded, those who were not blind and deaf turned their gaze against the explosion, the face of the mocking daemon with its hideous smile with too many tooth and not enough lips, stretching the void shield to create a pinpointed barrier on the front of the shell.

Hateful frustration feed the thing that receive the curses and chants of hate with orgasmic pleasure, the feast was interrupted as the orbital ships push themselves to the limit as they bombarded the fortress, gigatons of explosive shells detonate upon the distracted demonic shield.

In a mad haste, the barrier was held again, but that wasn´t enough, the pressure cracks the rocky pillar as the daemon tried to redirect to the enemy before him could focus fully in the orbital fire.

Regardless, the daemons tried to press their advantages, as what pass for mechanized forces of the Flesh Forger rush into the imperial´s lines, the chaplain Gunje fought with unrestricted fury, buying time to his brothers to retreat, some say that was for an hour, others half a day, there was accounts that him faced a Defiler in melee, others said that was a 7, but what was known is that him held the line alone against the chaotic machines for more than enough to cover his brother´s retreat, and them, his skull mask find the unholy ground glass as he was finally bested.

The price of the second offensive, half of the company was dead, the other half was spread amongst the fleet and the ground, the deaths of the mortals was counted in battalions, their lines spread thinner as they need to hold the tunnels from more assaults and prevent new ones to be excavated, but that wasn´t for naught.

The Techmarine tried to argue with his commander to let him to bring more of the fleet ordinance to the ground, but that wasn´t to be, the Uran´s plan as failed, and cost them dearly, but he would not relent, within the conscripted population that would take place on the front, small quantities of special ores were smuggled, cylindrical centrifuges were build and several heavy missiles batteries were taken to ''maintenance''.

Rimvald had ordered all the gene-seed of the dead and crippled astartes to be harvested before had gone to a day and a night in meditation, his frustration burning in an inward fury, clouding his judgment, visons of different strategies of others chapters played on his mind, how many would abandoned the campaign and let the corruption goes uncheck to justify an exterminatus on world, how many would let those deaths to be wasted, he can´t , but an order was given, and he would see it come to fruition, no matter the cost.

Another month as passed, the Forge lord´s fortress have visually changed as their inhabitants finish the preparations, the constant killing and bloodshed on the disgraced fortress where made with the intentions of preparing the grounds, weapons and defenses were cannibalized and used to this one ritual, this thing that filled the semi organic mind of the Flesh Lord in ramped extasy, the project let the ground campaign neglected as the Heretek grasp the final victory with his own hands.

Rimvald double down on the assault, instead of several separated spear heads with astartes, a single massive fist with all the ground forces would to be with him on the direct attack to the fortress, marching under the torrential rain that was forming all over the area.

A mechanized wave crushed the enemy foot soldiers with ease, once again, the shadow of the fortress was covering them, the forward´s elements reporting the enemy forces had truly manifested and mobilized, blood flowed like a river from the top of the mountain, infiltrating the glass fields, in minutes, tens of square kilometers of the glass lands, crystals start to grow in a menacing crimson, the glass soldiers remolded themselves in a mirrored version of Astartes and the daemon engines, the forces encircled the overextended assault, but even as lethal as they were, no more than courage and lasgun fire was necessary to kill even the glass engines.

They rose everywhere halting the attack as they have to fight against the glass spawn, the artillery saves Rimvald´s forces from encirclement as the entire battlefield was bombarded, causing acceptable friendly-fire.

The very air was tainted as the millions of shards was reduced to a thin powder of reddish glass, the shapes of the souls of the deaths taking form on the mist, possessing those who the mental fortitude could not resist the taint.

For the third time, they advance against the enemy, and once more, they were on the steps of the stronghold, as Rimvald gaze in hate upwards, he could witness the birth of a god.

A massive construct of tens of meters tall, clad in hell forge adamantium and painted with the suffering of the sons of a million widows, being carried to the ground by thousands of flying hell spawns, riding it like a lunatic, Kanabidiori was on the top of the command bridge, with a sacrificial stone on his front, there, the still living body of Gunje stood, his skin fused with the stone and bounded by his on guts, prepared to be the end the ritual.

''Behold fools, this is my first master-craft piece of death, the manifestation of the will of the machine god now will be the fused with the powers of the chaos gods! for its birth, 9,999,999 souls were sold to the forging of this being.''

His mechanical voice powered by the megaphones, loud enough to any to hear.

Hundreds of shots were fired against him, all stopped against the void shield of the thing, with a ornated knife, the Flesh Forger drive the blade to the open chest cavity of the chaplain, pierced the two hearts and killing him in a single strike, and only them, the machine activated, possessed by a greater daemon, and rushing into battle.

Hundreds of missiles were immediately launched from the imperial´s lines, artillery immediately fired their ordinance in hope to bring the corrupted Reaver Battle Titan down, but the missiles not even hit the voids shields, as they passed the target entirely, the ancient nature of the explosive yields was reveled, missiles buried themselves deep in the mountain behind, seconds later, bulges of cracking rock and the muffled cry of ancient thermonuclear bombs exploded with the force of megatons of TNT under the bedrock of the mountain.

The formations rapidly dispersed as they need to evade the hellish efficient gatling blaster, the greater daemon refusing the orders of the Flesh forge as him charged into melee.

Uran´s plan once again failed, as the gigantic pillar still standing in defiance.

The Daemon Titan stomped and destroyed any reinforcements that was rushed down, as he wants to fight alone, this tedious fight would end to soon, as it decided to finish the enemy with chain claws, massacring and stomping in hole platoons at the time.

Rimvald in his impulsor screams with fury, barking orders to soon to be death platoons and the ineffective artillery, he would not be defeated a third time, him and his platoon rushed towards the pile of rubble, the titan focus changed in a second, as the thing rushed as a predator against his prey, all the hunter killer missiles of the tank fired in a single salvo, but this not even slowed the charging beast-machine.

Rimvald then ordered the veicle to do a U turn, while the anti-gravity generators drifted, he jumped of the floating tank.

Rolling through the glass fields, the Capitan soon regain his feet, running forward he dictate on the vox.

''Hustor, until this campaign ends, you are in the command of the forces, don't let Uran take control.''

''Sir what?! What you are going to do sir?!.''

''I am giving my iron, giving my heart.''

Those were the last words that Rimvalds spoken to his veteran squad.

The warrior jump out of the moving transport, rushing upward on the ruble, daemon arms and tentacles of the still living creatures trying to drag him down, the charging devil engine charging against the commander of the forces as he entered between the cracks on rocks, big enough to hide a platoon, but too small for the demoniac claws.

The daemon thing start digging the rocks trying to reach his pray.

Rimvald could not accept this fate, he would not accept this fate, corned and dugged up from his hiding ground like a pathetic rat would not be the way he would die, he used all bullets against the demonic machine in hatefull frustration, except for one, Kh´hra manifest in the walls of the cave, taunting him to kill himself, mocking the deaths of his soldiers, and attacking his honor.

The heavy firepower of the artillery finally catches up with the titan, as the void shields withstand again and again with the attacks until it could not more, but the daemon armor would endure enough to guarantee Rimsvald´s death.

The Capitan charged his power fist beyond any safety limits, using all the power of his suit to overload the power field, the weapon glowing blue like a newborn star, the very metal starting to glow hot, In a final defiance, he punched the hideous face of the Kh´hra.

The explosion consumes the gauntlet and his arm with hit, shooting his body out of the hole like a bullet, the force great enough to finally crack the foundations of the tower of rock.

Beardly conscious, he saw himself flying like artillery shell, acting more in instinct than logic, he exploded every single reactive piece of armor with him, slowing him enough to not die on the landing.

Mortals were the first to try to drag his body away from the front, he would not stand, or fight for long days after, the Capitan take his helmet off, his eyes catch the moment that the cracks on the rocks on the massive pillar reach critical.

The titanic shadow of the pillar start to move, massive chunks of rock too heavy to the daemon flesh hold together coming apart, the feasts of flesh and orgies of pain on the fortress in commemoration of a premature victory stopped as the very ground trembled and splinted, daemon engines falling down to the glass fields below, cultist trying to hold on the flying engines only to be killed by them, hundreds of megatons of rock rain above the battlefield, the daemon titan was crushed with his master, the demonic shield vanishing as it´s the flesh-metal of the void shields generators were ripped apart.

The cry of victory amongst the mortals repeating again and again the motto of the Hearts of Iron as they celebrate the pyric victory.

At the end of the campaign, only 20 battle brothers left the dusty remains of the battlefield alive, the orbital ships expended no time in smashing the ruins of the place to oblivion, the bombardment almost destroyed the peninsula itself as the bombardment area was downed more than 500 meters below the ocean level.

The imperial guard´s forces would conscript all the hardened militias into the guard, but the campaign against chaos was watched by agents of his most holy inquisition, and they were in contact with the great enemy for long periods of time, too much to be safe, the crimpled commander ordered hundreds of thousands inducted into the chapter as serfs, but this was enough to save only a few, millions around the world would be put to the torch, purging the very population that they saved from damnation, the only place that they wouldn´t find the taint was on the immense crate left by the fleet, the bombardment was so harsh and intense that the agents of the inquisition didn´t found a single corrupted rock.

As they left the system with a bitter victory, the planet would become an arid rock as result of the bombardment, billions would perish on the world, others would starve, their soldiers that supply the armies were not to be anymore, nobody could see a future on this world, there would not be for lo, and all that the navigator could see for a day after they entered the warp, was a hideous face, with too many tooth and not enough lips.