02 - Galrisian - Interceptors, The XI Legio Metalica Battlegroup with CDXXII imperial guard regiment intercept the ork invasion on Kepler Secundus way.
In the cockpit of the Titans a metal music, each crew his own, as old as the lost years of the Holy TERRA, spreads between the neuronal connections and metal gears of the Titans, bringing the frenzy and stress level of pilots and machine spirits to the "war" level. The pounding of the drums, the power of the electric guitars, the bass rhythm and the glorious screams flow into the neural network of the crews and the immense war machines, making bubbling of adrenaline the brave hearts and roaring the plasma reactors: molten magma, glowing, all-devouring and feeds. An ancient heritage, handed down by millennia in the H.A. division of the Legio Metalica. As a drug the music begins to take effect, inspiring flesh and steel to the imminent battle.
OST - Brotherhood of Man ✙ ♏otorhead ✙ (subtitles lirics)
++ Pastorius, Princeps Hector Bezmenov on Ferrum Iratus reporting. We're leading the imperial guard army forward, twenty minutes to enemy contact. Warhound titans in patrol. We adhere to the codex. X25-del6995632x maneuver of the Adeptus Titanicus. Data sent through the machine spirit. ++ ++ The Omnissiah is watching us. Unleash the beasts and celebrate the Supremacy of Steel! Asphalt 'em all! ++
The immense warlord titan Ferrum Iratus marches towards the sector of Sandor. Its immense steps dictate the pace of the entire marching Imperial Army, that wisely held in its shadow. The two warhound titans escort the flanks the mechanized army, while the reaver titan Calor Mars follows its Princeps Bezmenov a half mile away. The army is marching through a world in war, through uninhabited suburbs where nameless outcasts live with raids and gimmicks, even trafficking with the ork enemy. Derelict outposts, militias badly fortified, factories in ruins and rubble. Rubble everywhere. Haggard ork warbands vanish in front of the advance of the Imperial Army, giving way to a confrontation out of their reach. Sandor approaches, more and more. At the horizon immense column of smoke and dust rising to the sky, dozens of exhaust pipes, mufflers and pistons show an immense army of tanks approaching, the battle of Sandor is coming. Kepler Secundus city is right now under attack.
The immense avalanche of tanks begins to deploy in a single long line, covering the entire length of their tactical objectives, arranged along the same line, while on the horizon, the imperial titans and the mechanized divisions deploy as a steel phalanx, ready to forward to their objective, vaguely deployed at wedge to force the orks barrier. The minutes become seconds, and seconds run fast into the abyss of the impending battle.
