Commissar General Rolf Yarrick contemplated his life as he stood watching Hive Hades below himself. He was in the main spire, several kilometres up in the air, in the room where Hive Monitor Christoph Artis had governered his Hive. Where the Hive Monitor was now, Yarrick knew not. Perhaps he was covering in a refugee camp somewhere. Maybe he even was off world and in safety. God-Emperor love him if he was. War raged on the streets and paths far below in the Hive. The Second Armageddon War raged.

Suddenly, he slammed his fist forcefully into the panzerglass of the view-port.

"This shouldn't be happening!" he shouted out loud. His one companion in the room, Grand Commander Eddie McGranth seemed unmoved by the commissar general's sudden outburst.

"McKenzie spoke of a new cloaking device. Perhaps spawn from his new allies, the dark eldar?" McGranth spoke softly. His Terminator armour whirred as he turned and moved over to Yarrick by the viewport.

"Damn that witch, McGranth," Yarrick said and fixed McGranth with a hard stare. "Unless he can give a straight answer, he should shut up!"

"Now, Rolf, ease up! This is not the end of the world!"

Yarrick turned and grinned like a wolf, as that was the only way he could grin. "No, you are wrong, Eddie. This is the end of the world! This is Armageddon, after all!"

McGranth sighed. "Chomaki would've told you not to lose hope and so do I."

"Do so, because I haven't lost faith. Not in the Adeptus Astartes, but in Armageddon ever becoming what it once was! As recently as four years ago, there was an attempted assassination on me! Why? Because the ass-hole wanted to rule the junta instead of me! Lord General Kurth became traitor and heretic to gain power, Eddie. Power corrupts, and Armageddon is the best example of that."

McGranth sighed and turned to leave. "Whatever," he said, "but you should know, most people see you as what you are; an Imperial Hero. Don't forget that, Rolf. Now, if you excuse me, I have a Legion to lead."

And thus, McGranth left Yarrick alone with his thoughts. Yarrick shuffled over to the desk and sat down heavily in the comfortable chair. He was fifty-seven years old and wanted to live longer than that. But every time he looked into the mirror, he saw a thirty-year-old man. Something was wrong with him. Very wrong.

He had lately confronted Inquisitor Rovannion personally and demanded an answer to why he wasn't ageing. Rovannion himself didn't seem a day older than when Rolf had first seen him, all those years ago home on Callidus... when Uncle Caspar was still alive...

Yarrick wiped away the tears that had formed in his eyes at the thought of his grand-cousin. He felt a sudden warm feeling inside of him and started up. He realised it was hatred, pure hatred, towards the beast that had robbed him so: Dark Lord Kevlinn, or Kharn, as he called himself nowadays. It didn't matter. Yarrick was going to present the head of the Dark Lord, no matter his name, before the Golden Throne of the Emperor. No matter the cost!

A soft knock on the door of the office brought Yarrick out of his thoughts. He walked over to the control board and opened the door. As it slid away with a soft hiss, a small man leaning on a cane limped in. He wasn't more than one metre fifty, his hair was white as was his moustache and his eyes were dark brown and gentle. Yarrick knew who it was.

"Hendrik Irwin! God-Emperor! What are you doing here?"

"Just visiting," Irwin said and smiled warmly. Yarrick wasn't slow to bring the old man a chair to sit down in. Irwin heard how Yarrick muttered in Callidussian under his breath.

"Kersani! Inamu hun karn! Mitikor un brekan! Karn! Karn!"

"Now, show some respect for the eldery, Rolf," Irwin said as he put down his cane. "And I am not crazy, mind you!"

Yarrick turned and looked over his shoulder as he hung Irwin's coat on a hook. "You know Callidussian, Hendrik?"

"Keni," Irwin replied, using the Calidussian word for 'little'. Irwin saw Yarrick's look and added, "You said 'Emperor! He has to be crazy! Come in the middle of a war! Crazy! Crazy!"

"Exactly my words, Hendrik," Yarrick replied and sat down in front of the little man. "So, then you know what my name, and Chomaki's, mean, right?"

"Bless his soul, I do," Irwin said and smiled. "Yarrick is the Callidussian word for wolfhound, although it is spelled why-ay-ar-eye-kei-kei. And Chomaki is the word for eagle."

"And double eagle is taochomaki." Yarrick smiled. "It has been such a long time since I spoke Callidussian with anybody, I was afraid I'd forgotten. So what brings you here, Hendrik?"

Irwin gestured around himself. "This war," he said idly. "It shouldn't be happening, right?"

Yarrick nodded. "Indeed. And all these... dark eldar. I do not like it."

"Of course," Irwin said and sighed. "Rolf, the reason I'm here is because of Skuli. He's worrying me."

"Skuli? What's wrong with him?"

"I found him sitting wide awake in the middle of the night. He was sitting in a patch of moonlight, looking at the moon that cast it."

"And?"

"I walked up to him and asked why he was sitting there, and Skuli replied 'It's not genuine.'"

"What did he mean with that?" Yarrick questioned, surprised.

"I have no idea either," Irwin replied, "I was hoping you'd know. But my guess is it has something to do with Armageddon."

"Is that all, Hendrik?"

"Yes, I think so," the little man replied and got up. Yarrick helped him on with his coat and followed Irwin to the door. There, the old man suddenly stopped and looked up into Yarrick's face, concern shining in his gentle eyes.

"Rolf, believe me, something isn't right with this war. I feel it."

"So do I, Hendrik, but Kharn is now here and we will defeat him."

"Of course," Irwin said and smiled sadly, "but they managed to get Kileth after all, now didn't they?"

"So you heard, didn't you?" Yarrick said and looked pained.

"I'm sorry, Rolf," Irwin comforted and grabbed Yarrick's left arm gently. "I know how much the Armageddon Commissariat mean to you, and in losing Kileth, you lost a very valuable man."

"So we did..." Yarrick replied and was silent for the rest of the day. Irwin left him alone and went home. Yarrick would seek his comfort in battle, as he always did, though.

The Berzerker never saw the silver gleaming sword coming. Its head rolled on the ground amongst rubble and body parts and its massive body toppled over like a great oak. Rolf Yarrick leapt clear of it easily. He was fighting on the streets of Helsreach Hive, accompanied by an entire regiment of Helsreach Hive Defence Force, HDF for short.

A quick spin and Yarrick brought his sword round in an arc that decapitated several cultists. There were millions of them, he silently concluded. Millions. And the Berzerkers weren't even a thousand. The dark eldars' numbers he didn't even want to contemplate. To him, they were sadistic aliens that only could serve the universe by dying by his sword.

Yarrick jumped up and landed his jackboots firmly in the back of a cultist. His group comrades turned round and faced the Imperial Commissar. Their first mistake, and last. Yarrick brought his sword round and sliced through them all with an ease that could only be fuelled by fury. And it was fury Yarrick felt burning inside of him. It had been nearly a month since Irwin had visited, but what the little man's visit had dredged up from Yarrick's memory still burned. But it was welcomed and relished. It meant his hatred would burn higher against these followers of the Etherdark.

A close swipe to his head brought him back to reality. An immense Berzerker stood berfore him. The chain axe in its hands had nearly swept Yarrick's head off. The beast raised the axe again and charged at the commissar.

Yarrick ducked away and let his sword gently pass through the right shoulder pad of the power armoured monstrosity. It roared in pain and brought itself round to attack once again. Yarrick ducked underneath the wild swing of the chain axe and burrowed his blade into the chest of the Berzerker. As the beast toppled forward, Yarrick pulled the blade free and decapitated the Marine.

"Let them burn! Burn the heretics! Let them feel the purifying flame of the Emperor's Wrath!" Yarrick bellowed as he charged at the blood red horde before them once again.

It took the Imperial force of HDF nigh on four hours to claim the cathedral that was their objective. But still, there seemed no end to their enemies. The Berzerkers had dimnished, perhaps called to serve elsewhere, but the cultists were still numerous. Alas, the one thing that disheartened Yarrick the most was the sight of the long-limbed, dark purple armoured dark eldar. He recognised their kin: A dark eldar lord and his retinue of Incubi bodyguards and ordinary warriors.

"Kill the aliens and purge the heretics!" Yarrick roared and led a squad of Imperial Guard storm troopers against the dark eldar lord. The hellguns of the storm troopers spat deadly lasfire against the aliens. One of the troopers welded a grenade launcher and shot off a fragmentation grenade at the dark eldar. When the smoke dispersed, it showed that every warrior in the squad was dead, but the lord and his Incubi were unscathed.

"Frekk," Yarrick muttered and led the squad in a charge towards the lord.

Battle ensued between the two forces and Yarrick squared up with the lord. The tall, thin alien was wearing armour with many sharp blades along with a grotesque death's mask on his tall helmet. In his hands he held a glaive with wickedly shaped blades in both ends. His armour matched his warriors' with it's deep purples.

Yarrick prepared himself for a long battle. He was not to be disappointed.

The alien was quick, quicker than anyone Yarrick had ever met before. There seemed to be no end to the many swipes that the lord could perform with his glaive. After one graceful sweep of the glaive, Yarrick managed to get a stab in at the dark eldar, only to see the sword reflected by an invisible shield. Noticing the human's feeble attack, the dark eldar swung round in another graceful sweep with his glaive.

Yarrick ducked back, just avoiding the glaive and striking in at the lord again with his sword. Once again it rebounded off an invisible wall. The dark eldar quickly spun round and fired the scorpion tail like contraption on its helmet. Yarrick dodged that too. Now he knew what it was for at least.

The two were locked in combat for a long time, neither gaining the upper hand. However, after a good five minutes, Yarrick noticed frustration in the haughty alien's movements. He guessed it was because the vile creature couldn't understand how a human held him off. The frustration led to lack of concentration, and the lack of concentration meant that Yarrick could get a firm grip on the glaive after one too frustrated swing on the dark eldar's behalf. Yarrick pulled the alien closer to him and sent his sword towards the head of the alien, knocking off the scorpion tail.

Wrenching the glaive from the dark eldar's hands, Yarrick threw him off himself and charged in with the sword. This time, the shadow field merely fizzled and the deamonslayer sword passed easily through armour, flesh and bone. The head of the lord flew through the air whilst the body slumped to the ground.

Yarrick checked himself. The Imperial storm troopers had managed to take down the Incubi bodyguard through sheer weight of numbers. But it had cost them.

And it would continue to cost them to regain Armageddon from the Dark Lord's grasp. Life was the Emperor's and the Imperium currency.

Rallying his men for the next charge, Rolf Yarrick contemplated this. It was the only way. Not only for him, but for the Imperium. The only way to remain a part of the Galaxy was war. All out, total and unforgiving war.

Howling in fury, Rolf Yarrick led his men in a charge of glory. They would reclaim Armageddon, whatever it may cost!