Arthus

The hulking venerated dreadnought lumbers its metal feet that felt like deep beats of the drums that once saved him long ago. The Rosarius embedded to his chest, the jet black colour that brought reckoning to vile xenos and the fear mongering skull mask adorned the holy creature as it strays upon its consecrated path. The chatter of other battle-brothers before him was a more welcoming sound than the whispers of the dark gods looming inside of the warp. Even as he though of this, his mechanical voice began to broke itself into songs that lifted the Imperium of Man. "I hath seen... With my two eyes that he... Hath raised his wrathful hand. Glory ave Imperator..." A door opened behind him and several initiates of the Imperium began to fill in where they spoke among themselves upon their faith.

Arthus, disturbed by the quarreling among them followed after the group-- Brother Carthus leading them towards the chamber where they would be turned to Space Marines. "Emperor's Initiates..." Arthus let on. Brother Carthus noticed his presence and halted the advance of the initiates.

"Emperor's grace with you, Head Chaplain Arthus." Upon hearing the status of the Dreadnought, the Initiates immediately straightened themselves and saluted the iron veteran hastily.

"I've overheard... The raving of these initiates..." Its weary limbs fell close to the ground. He was disappointed about the spirit at which the initiates dedicated themselves on. While it was commendable that they had placed dedication to the God-Emperor, their whispering mouths placed doubt in Arthus. Brother Carthus seemed to have not mind about the initiates.

"They are initiates, Head Chaplain. They will learn to hone their faith and zeal in the name of the Emperor in due time. Rest assured." Brother Carthus needed to lead the Initiates as quick as he could. "Arthus, I must tend to these Initiates as quickly as I can. I shall speak with you again in another time." Arthus remained to stand there as Brother Carthus made his way off with the Initiates.

 "Combat units, form in the main hangar." The vox-caster's sounded. Inquisitor Viqtor spoke personally over it, it must be an urgent and dire matter.

"All of His Glorious Armies... They shall not flee nor retreat..." Arthus continued to sing the Imperium's songs as he lumbered on further towards the Hangar. His powered feet now pouncing onto the metal floor of the ship and the exhaust pipes over him flared with fire as he moved to his maximum speed towards the Hangar. "Head Chaplain Gunther Arthus... Awaiting orders..." He arrived, but other battle brothers were already in place in the hangar. It seems that Arthus was late to be in the Hangar.