Lukas Czervas peered through the scope of his rifle, muttering a faint prayer to the Lord of Change as he searches for a target. The tech-adept needed cover, and he was glad to provide such a service for a fellow - after all, their meeting could well have been preordained, to a point far beyond his own vision. He wasn't about to throw it to chance, not when his hand had been guided this far.<br/><br/>The PDF were putting up a good fight, he was forced to grudgingly admit. They were better-drilled and better-armed than the rabble around him, but they were few whilst the cultists were many. He just hoped there would be enough survivors to properly convert. Silencing his augmetic lungs, he turned still as a statue for a moment, firing off a series of shots towards the chapel facade. Some of them struck flesh with devastating effects, others suppressed their targets, allowing the cultists to advance. Taking another breath, he looked out over the carnage wreaked in the square, and triggered his built-in short-wave vox-link.<br/><br/>"Warriors of Chaos - today is your day! You have been granted a chance for freedom, a chance to rise against the foul tyranny of the Imperium of Man, and displace them in favour of truth and liberty! Fear not death and danger, for the dark gods smile upon you, and they will bring you victory on this day - I know this, for I have seen it. I have seen this world fall, liberated hab-block by hab-block and street by street, the enemy overthrown by the faithful. This is your fate, our fate - we are guaranteed victory. However, we can only achieve it if you press on - you must lay down your lives for your brethren, so that they may live to fight on. Nothing matters but the freedom of this world, not even your lives. So come, loyal children of Chaos, let us make our voices heard - to the PDF, to the Guard, even to the Astartes, in the hallowed halls of their corpse-god: We will persist, we will rise up, and we will kick their bloody teeth in!" He recited over the vox, laying out a tried-and-true speech that had served him dozens of times in the past. The cults had heart, Tzeentch bless them, but they were disorganised and frail. They needed guidance and motivation, and it was through His will that Czervas had ended up on this miserable ball of ice in the first place. It had little major value, it was simply another target, another world to be freed.<br/><br/>Muttering another dark litany to himself, he returned his eye to the scope of his long-barrel led autorifle, and continued to lay down fire. Be it by his hand, or through the efforts of the cultists, he would see that temple fall.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>