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Description
986.M41

Spires of fallen hives rose like hollow teeth from ashes of their denizens. What survived of their ruins were only the strongest walls, the foundations, and skeletal structures at their very core, often the oldest, most masterfully crafted pieces of those ancient settlements, where first colonists of the old humanity had made their homes. In these infernal fires, the flames of the ring had revealed the last remnants of that golden age one final time. And they would have remained there, slowly cracking and crashing into one-another unseen, had not the expeditions of the Cult Mechanicus Cambria come to bear witness to that final fall.
God-machines of the Imperium stood by, humbled by the presence of those older, vaster things and forces, and before their machine-eyes the world of old crumbled. There was nothing left for them to save or reconquer, only the symbolic loss of beauty and craftsmanship from the world.
The princeps proclaimed this sight touched something in the hearts and minds of their machines. Those enigmatic, feral intelligence of the Titans, were not impervious to the worlds of old unraveling. Somewhere, buried deep inside their souls of cold, there remained some knowledge, some recognition, and awe for the grandest works of their creators. And their loss filled the God-Machines with something more than rage or lust for battle, with a deep yearning for retribution. War-engines, built for the sole purpose of destruction, had encountered something they did not bear seeing ground to ashes. Whatever it was what possessed the Titans of the Legio and their Princeps that day would fuel acts of immeasurable weight later on.

See the full Crusade: brass-and-iron.fandom.com/wiki…

More updates and interactions:
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Warhammer 40k fanart.

Description
986.M41

Spires of fallen hives rose like hollow teeth from ashes of their denizens. What survived of their ruins were only the strongest walls, the foundations, and skeletal structures at their very core, often the oldest, most masterfully crafted pieces of those ancient settlements, where first colonists of the old humanity had made their homes. In these infernal fires, the flames of the ring had revealed the last remnants of that golden age one final time. And they would have remained there, slowly cracking and crashing into one-another unseen, had not the expeditions of the Cult Mechanicus Cambria come to bear witness to that final fall.
God-machines of the Imperium stood by, humbled by the presence of those older, vaster things and forces, and before their machine-eyes the world of old crumbled. There was nothing left for them to save or reconquer, only the symbolic loss of beauty and craftsmanship from the world.
The princeps proclaimed this sight touched something in the hearts and minds of their machines. Those enigmatic, feral intelligence of the Titans, were not impervious to the worlds of old unraveling. Somewhere, buried deep inside their souls of cold, there remained some knowledge, some recognition, and awe for the grandest works of their creators. And their loss filled the God-Machines with something more than rage or lust for battle, with a deep yearning for retribution. War-engines, built for the sole purpose of destruction, had encountered something they did not bear seeing ground to ashes. Whatever it was what possessed the Titans of the Legio and their Princeps that day would fuel acts of immeasurable weight later on.

See the full Crusade: brass-and-iron.fandom.com/wiki…

More updates and interactions:
Facebook // Twitter // Reddit

Warhammer 40k fanart.