u/ZedekiahCromwell

He had failed. As Hadriel’s eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light of his cell, that thought pounded repeatedly against his mind. He had failed, and those who had joined him had paid the price. He knew they were somewhere in this labyrinth, in a cell like his. The floors and walls were dark, ancient stone. The carved bas reliefs in the walls rose high, higher than he could strain his neck to see with his head clamped in place to the chair behind him. One of the larger ones to his left caught his eye. In it, a figure of might and beauty, head surrounded by a halo, offered his hand to a sickened, base creature crumpled at his feet. The Emperor’s Grace was carved across the top in High Gothic. Hadriel snorted. He had seen the Emperor offer many things, to many beings. Grace was rarely one of them.
Nor did he expect grace from the figures who entered the room at that moment. The first, cloaked and hooded as he was, obviously held the role of Chaplain. His crozius was clenched in right hand, and in his left he held a scroll of apparent great age. Hanging at his waist was a small circle of burnished gold, set with 3 black pearls. Behind him came another figure, also cloaked and hooded, but this one gave no indication of its form or purpose. Despite his tight bindings, Hadriel shuddered. A Watcher, one of the enigmatic beings of cursed Caliban. He had heard they had survived the rending of their planet, but this was the first he had seen in decades. In the last years before the confrontation with the Lion, they had become rarer and rarer in the halls of the Dark Angel fortresses.
“Confess your sins, brother.” With these words, the Chaplain stepped forward, and Hadriel could easily make out the skull helm of his position. Red eyes glowed beneath his hood, and even without a lower jaw, the skull seemed to be smiling with ill intent.
“Perhaps it is you who should be confessing to me, brother,” Hadriel responded. “You know not of what you ask, and walk in the shadows of a Legion you know not enough about to truly mourn.”
“The prisoner is unrepentant. So be it; we shall begin.”

One Day Later
Hadriel’s body went slack against his bindings once again as another wave of pain left his body. His whole body was left twitching down to his fingers and toes. Even his eyebrows twitched in the agonizing aftermath of a fresh application of the Chaplain’s art.
“Confess your sins, brother.”
Hadriel attempted to spit, but his mouth had gone dry in the interminable hours of screaming that had preceded this question. He met the red gaze of the Chaplain.
“I am Hadriel of the 1st Legion, member of the Host of Crowns, trusted to stand by the Emperor’s side, leader of men far better than you, and loyal to the Legion as it was. You will hear no confession from these lips. I have failed my men, but my confession is for them, not you.”
It was the same thing Hadriel had responded to each successive prompt to confess, but this time the Chaplain nodded. He turned slightly to the side and said, “Please send in Brother-Librarian Andriel. It is time.”

Three Days Later
Hadriel could not remember how long he had been strapped to the interrogation table. His head swam in confusion and disorientation as his body swam in pain. Not just pain, though. He had been stripped of the plain, rough-spun robe of a prisoner and secured to the table before Andriel and the Interrogator-Chaplain. That was not all he had been stripped of, however. His right arm, right chest, and left leg were stripped of their skin, giving the table perfect access to his neural system, access that had been used to send pure pain into his body and mind. That pain was not left pure, however. It had been adulterated and deepened by the table through access to the ports of his black carapace. One moment, every signal sent to his ports would be that of crushing pressure, and the pain sent into his chest that of drowning. The next, he would be exposed to open vacuum, and the pain was of feeling his nonexistent skin burn and boil to the void. 
Worst by far, though, was Andriel. As Hadriel’s body was wracked with sensation and pain, the Librarian would lean in and meet his eyes. When this happened, time bled away and Hadriel was carried away to his worst moments.
-Sergeant Stolas stepped away from the door as the breaching charges blew. The heavy doors of the inner room of the fortress fell inward in a wash of heat and smoke. Hadriel and his brothers rushed in behind the concussion, bolters already barking as they engaged the heavily modified forms inside. Techno-barbarians, one of the last holdouts on Terra, crude and unsophisticated compared to the deadly efficiency of the Space Marines engaging them, but dangerous nonetheless. Bolts impacted heavy armor, buckling plate and rending flesh, but the return fire was withering. As Hadriel turned to engage a new target, he heard the distinctive whine of a volkite weapon powering up to fire. Before he could react, he was heavily shoved from the side. Recovering his balance, he saw the headless form of Stolas laying where he had once-
You have failed.
-Hadriel stood on the bridge of the strike cruiser, watching the munitions leave to carry out their deadly, final purpose. As they twinkled in the voidlight, he could hear the plea over open comms, transmitted by the central communication tower of the habitat in front of him. “Please, there are women and children on this station. We wish to surrender! Please, there are women and children on this station..” The habitat convulsed and exploded as it-
You have failed.
-Hadriel hurriedly ordered the remnants of his squad into firing positions trained on the path they had just come. Any moment now, the Rangdan assault force would be on them again, and he knew the reinforcements he so desperately hoped for, on their way now but slowed by the insane chaos of the battlefield, would not be in time. As he prepared for a desperate defense of the left flank of the 1st Legion, the red indicators of his squad’s dead burned bright in the HUD of his-
You have failed.
- He looked up from his position on the fortress rampart at the flashing, cascading battle above him. Ship engagements lit up orbit as heavy cannon ordnance flashed upward to join it. The vibration of the Calibanite surface was intense as megatons of shell, gigajoules of laser fire, and more esoteric weapons from a long ago age split the air each second. Hadriel did not understand why the Dark Angels were assaulting their own planet, but he knew that he and his brothers had been betrayed by-
You have failed.
-His brothers, gathered across space and time, sent terse communications to each other as they reinforced their position. Few in number as they were, they had shown these upstart Dark Angels the true meaning of that epithet. Dark green bodies lay littered in front of him, scattered with the remnants of the heavy bikes the Imperium used for its fast assault forces in this cursed millennium. As he reset the lines to his plasma cannon, a blinking light from the mangled wreck of a nearby mangled bike caught his eye. Before he could consider its meaning any further, the blinding light of a teleportation strike filled his-
You have failed.

One Day Later
“Confess your sins, brother.”
Hadriel had nothing in response. He did not know if he was capable of it. But as he unsuccessfully tried to prepare for another delving of his mind, a small measure of calm descended upon him. Even amongst all of the pain and disorientation, this confused him. The Interrogator and his ilk were far too skilled to let him slip into shock, even with the hell they put his body and mind through.
This was not shock. Instead, he found himself feeling soft hands in nonexistent hair as his small head laid in a lap, thin but comfortable legs beneath him. He did not remember his father. He had thought he did not remember his mother. But this memory came to him now. A soft voice, lulling him to sleep. It was these words that came, faltering and weak, from his lips.
“Blow the wind, blow;
Swift and low;
Blow the wind o'er the ocean.
…”
His voice trailed off as he imagined his mother seeing her boy lying on a cold medical table, flensed and flayed in body and mind. It was what broke him. The final rush of acceptance and despair. He met the Interrogator-Chaplain’s gaze.
“I confess. I betrayed the Lion. I betrayed the Legion. I betrayed the Emperor. I am a Fallen who has worked against his Great Truth, and I am guilty of the sins you accuse me of. But know this, Chaplain: whether in this life or the next, I will make you pay for yours.”
The Chaplain unlimbered his bolt pistol and leaned close to Hadriel’s face. “The next life it will be, then. Confession accepted. Go with the Emperor's Grace.”
The bolt pistol barked.

Painted up a captain in Risen colors as a break from my successor scheme. Had a lot of fun doing somwthing new. C+C appreciated!

Wanted to do something different, so I painted a captain up in the Risen scheme instead of my chapter's. C+C appreciated!

(It was a ball)

(It was a ball)

First try at the greenblack, as I typically paint everything in my successor scheme. Thoughts? C+C appreciated!

First try at the greenblack, as I typically paint everything in my successor scheme. Thoughts? C+C appreciated!

Built him for fun, even though I already have some other captains. Gonna paint him up as a Risen