Dravac adopted a defensive stance, power sword thrumming with energy in his left hand. Not his preferred hand, but given his right hand lay severed at his feet it was his only option. He stood slightly hunched, his once gleaming Silver Swords battle plate now wore dozen of scars and burn marks, the chapter marking barely recognisable. Despite his MK.X armour being the latest technology available to his chapter, even it could not hold up for much longer.
Every attack he made against the enemy champion was being countered with lightning speed. It should have been impossible for a warrior in Terminator plate to react and move with such speed, and yet the warrior moved as if wearing the lightest silk robes. The massive industrial chainaxe it wielded wielded with such finesse despite it's brutish, almost crude appearance.
The massive chaos marine slid past Dravac's mid strike. Dravac's arm was caught by the warrior as it moved past, and he was pulled off his feet by the wrist and thrown off the gantry, landing on stack of promethium drums two levels below, the empty clanging of the barrels drowning out the noise of compromised armour alarms and live support warnings ringing inside his helmet.
Dravac removed his helmet, and stared back at the cracked silver faceplate. He eyes fell upon on the small golden Aquila imprinted above the brow.
"That symbol is as worthless as the corpse it represents", boomed the chaos marine. Whilst Dravac lay amongst dented barrels, the warrior casually descended the stairs. How he didn't notice the terminator descend was a mystery; a battle barge in orbit wouldn't have had an issue spotting the insane war colours of this servant of Slaanesh. The warrior stopped only a few feet away and knelt down. Even kneeling he was a giant. Dravac took in the maddening colours and patterns upon each piece of the Terminator armour; no two pieces were alike. Blue, pink, animal prints and more indescribable patterns that would make any lesser man go mad.
The warriors appearance matched his armour. A large brightly colour Mohawk crowned a head covered in battle scars and bionics, finished with a disturbing smile. No sane person smiled like that.
"I was once like you. I once believed the lies of the chaplains, the corruption of politicians and holy leaders, the imposed beliefs we were doing the right thing. I can offer you a choice. Either, I can chain your arms and legs to two of my favourite Land Raiders and watch them slowly pull you apart. I could..sell you to the highest bidder. The are a number of fleshcrafters, especially the Primogenitor, that would would murder for a chance to study you. Very slow, and very, very painful, but I'd get paid so at least one of us comes out better."
Dravac stared unflinching back. The Termiantor stood back up, servos groaning as they supported the immense armour plates.
"Or, you can join me. Now wouldn't that be fun? To be honest prefer the first option, but it's your choice I guess" The warrior tilted his head to the side and wore a disturbingly wide grin on his face.
Surely he could not betray the emperor. Dravac had honour. He had faith. He had...a way out.