Arl stood apart from the others, his hulking form quite different from the other agents selected. He wore his fatigues and flak armour, and carried the weapons issued to him the day he took his oath of allegiance and swore to fight the Emperor's foes, leaving him looking like one of the untold billions of soldiers who made up the Imperial Guard, simply another small piece of flesh and blood of the Imperial war machine whose job was to drown the enemies of mankind under the crushing weight of numbers or to make them choke upon Imperial dead. The savage man from a savage world had never imagined that he would be called to do battle in such a way - the most fantastic stories of his ancestors about worthy ones chosen and taken by sky warriors told very different sagas. He fidgeted within the confines of the elevator, arms crossed over his chest and hands making the sign of the aquilla. His lips moved soundlessly as he went over various prayers to the God-Emperor, praying that He on Holy Terra would not forsake him.