Warhammer 40k : Space Marine Kayvaan

The tide of the battle had turned the moment he arrived. The Emperor's legions, who had been on the verge of collapse, rallied under his presence. The soldiers stationed on the outer walls began retreating into the fortress in an orderly fashion, regaining their composure and discipline. As the fortress gates creaked shut, Sanguinius stood alone before them, a solitary figure against an ocean of foes.

He held the line, his sword carving through demons and Chaos warriors alike. No enemy could stand against him for even a moment. With each swing of his blood-streaked blade, waves of foes fell. His white wings beat powerfully, sending gusts of wind that scattered debris and smoke. As golden light spilled from his feathers, it swept over the battlefield like sacred dust. Those touched by its glow—whether corrupted spirits or mortal traitors—burst into holy flames, their screams lost amidst the cacophony of war. Enemy ranks disintegrated into writhing torches before they could even approach him.

Sanguinius wielded his sword with effortless grace, often using only one hand. The blade shimmered with an eternal golden light, untarnished even by the blood of his foes. Each horizontal slash cleaved through enemies within a fifty-meter radius, the sheer force of his strikes cutting through air and armor alike. Yet no matter how many fell, more came, their corpses forming a grisly path as the next wave surged forward. Still, Sanguinius stood unyielding. The ground trembled under the weight of their numbers, but he held firm, a singular force defying countless adversaries.

Unseen amidst the chaos, Kayvaan fought alongside him. Clad in black Terminator armor, moved like a shadow among the enemy ranks. If Sanguinius was the blinding sun, Kayvan was the silent specter cast by its light. Using Sanguinius as a distraction, he darted through the chaos unnoticed, his movements precise and calculated. His claws struck without warning, each kill swift and lethal. The enemy only became aware of his presence when it was too late—when his blades had already pierced their throats or hearts.

While Sanguinius tore through the enemy head-on, Kayvan hunted those who posed a genuine threat. He targeted powerful demons and infamous traitors, eliminating them before they could reach Sanguinius. Though the Primarch could handle such adversaries, Kayvan's intervention spared him the effort, allowing Sanguinius to focus on holding the line. These key eliminations sowed disarray among the enemy forces, leaving them leaderless and disorganized. Chaos erupted within their ranks, their blind aggression turning them into fodder for the fortress's cannons and crossfire.

Above the din of battle, Sanguinius smiled faintly. The golden light radiating from his armor grew even brighter, drawing the gaze of friend and foe alike. Under his radiant cover, Kayvan moved even faster, striking with relentless efficiency. He disrupted enemy formations, assassinated commanders, and crushed their attempts at organization. As a result, the assault became a disjointed mess. Demons and traitors alike were cut down by the fortress's defenses or shredded by Sanguinius's unrelenting blade.

The tide began to turn. Cannons roared from the fortress, halting the advance of the enemy's Titan legions. The combined efforts of Sanguinius and Kayvan bought the Emperor's forces precious time. For an entire hour, the pair stood against the overwhelming horde, holding Satan's Gate without faltering. Only when the fortress's gates finally closed behind them did Sanguinius lower his sword. He turned to the sealed gate, smiling softly. "The battle is far from over," he said, his voice calm but resolute. "Rest, my warriors. The war has only just begun."

As Sanguinius turned to retreat into the fortress, a sudden beam of light pierced the battlefield. It streaked across the chaos, cutting through flesh, metal, and stone with terrifying precision. Sensing the danger, Sanguinius turned, his wings flaring as he tried to evade. But in that instant, a powerful force seized him, locking his body in place. A malevolent will coiled around him, paralyzing him with its sheer presence.

The beam surged toward him, unstoppable and deadly. Yet before it could strike, a shadow leaped into its path. Kayvan, without hesitation, placed himself between the attack and his Primarch. The beam struck him directly, the force of it tearing into his armor and raking across his soul. Pain unlike anything he had ever known flooded his senses, but he did not falter.

For a fleeting moment, Kayvan's vision blurred. He felt something cold and invasive seep into his body, a dark force threatening to consume him from within. Yet even in his agony, he stood firm, his sacrifice a testament to his unyielding loyalty. "Victory, victory, or... or..." Those were the last words Joe said, his voice trembling with confusion, leaving Sanguinius utterly baffled.

On the other side of the battlefield, Horus slowly lowered his hand, his face dark with frustration. This curse—guaranteed to strike its intended target—had somehow rebounded, hitting an unintended bystander instead. The misfire forced him to make minor adjustments to the grand plan he had so carefully crafted. Yet, after a moment of seething silence, a sly smile carved its way across his face, as flawless as marble. Perhaps this was fate's way of proving his supremacy. Maybe destiny itself was paving the path to show that Horus was not only more powerful but also a more perfect existence than the Emperor.

Meanwhile, in an entirely different space. Kayvan sat on a cold metal chair, his stern gaze locked on the young man before him. His expression held a mix of suspicion and faint irritation. "Have you seen enough?" he asked, his deep voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

Standing across from him was Joe, a regular teenager from Earth. He wore light blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt. His posture was stiff, his gaze darting nervously around the strange environment. The towering man's question caught him off guard, but he managed a stammered reply. "W-where am I? What were those things I just saw?"

"Calm down, young man," Kayvan said, his voice steady, carrying a hoarse but reassuring weight. "This is the first lesson I'll teach you. Don't panic. Stay composed. If there's a problem, solve it one step at a time."

Joe closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again, determined to make sense of the situation. The room remained the same—an enormous, otherworldly library. Towering bookcases stretched endlessly into the sky and outward in all directions, creating a maze of ancient knowledge. At the heart of it all stood a simple steel chair occupied by the imposing figure of Kayvan. Even sitting down, Kayvan was impossibly tall, at least three meters in height. He dwarfed the tallest NBA players Joe had ever seen on TV. 

"Alright," Joe said cautiously, steadying his voice. "No panicking. Let's start with the basics. Who are you?"

"I am Kayvan," the giant man replied, his tone firm but not unkind. "A captain for the Raven Guard and a loyal servant of the Emperor." His gaze sharpened, his expression a mix of approval and critique. "You're quick to regain composure. Impressive—for an ordinary person. But as a soldier? You'd be woefully inadequate."

Joe furrowed his brow. "I don't understand half of what you're saying, but fine. Next question—where am I, and how do I get home?"