Marcellus didn't hear the man at first. All he got was the roaring in his ears.
Perhaps, it was the din of a battlefield-an endless thunder of guns, fire and blood. Every now and then-a pause, a shift in momentum, a surge in attack, redirected defense. In that moment, a soldier learned to steady his breathing-lest, he join his brothers and sisters staring sightless from the Earth.
...Or maybe, it was the roar of a crowd, baying for blood-and that horrible breathless anticipation, the utter silence between the swing and the killing blow. Then the rapture of death, the rejoicing, the cheering. But, they didn't see the eyes though. A dying persons eyes were a horrible thing to see, but you owed it to him-or her. He had sent them all on, and had promised not to waste their sacrifice. It was all that kept him going.
Even so-this time, he thought it was the warp itself...calling to him...beckoning him to his destiny. Maybe she was waiting....somewhere out there...endless, boundless chaos-but to him, a woman with a gentle smile. Mother ready to embrace and forgive him. A lovers caress. Oh yes, he thought quite manically-this was his defense, after all, refuge in hilarity-yes. He knew them all.
A man could lose himself out there-could, and did. Lose what made him a man. Of course, when that happened, you didn't quite care anymore, did you? No. He had seen it happen, once before.
Men had walked toward damnation with wide smiles, and open arms-hoping for a glorious salvation, to be lifted from the haze into paradise, he suppose. He had almost joined them. There were nights in the slave pens he thought he should have.
He shook his head violently, trying to clear it of those distracting-heretical?-thoughts. By the Emperor, what was wrong with him? He stood up, feeling the familiar weight of his armor, his weapons. A moment later, he felt like himself again.
Mostly.
"Just get us moving. Heresy grows from idleness." He growled.
Action: Prepare to move out