Mara had not expected flowers on a tank.

Most were paper.

Some were coloured cloth twisted around spent shell casings.

A little wreath had been tied around the barrel of a Leman Russ.

Mara stared.

**MARA:**
“That looks silly.”

**CHIBI:**
“Yep.”

“It could destroy a building.”

“Yep.”

“And somebody put flowers on it.”

“Yep.”

Mara thought about this.

**MARA:**
“I like it.”

Chibi nodded.

**CHIBI:**
“Me too.”

—

The enormous mustering hall had been built for machines.

Tonight, people had taken it back.

Long tables stood between tanks and transports.

Regimental banners hung from cranes.

Candles burned beside ammunition crates turned into temporary shrines.

The smell of incense mixed with hot engines, bread, roast meat and thousands of people.

Guardsmen drank.

Played cards.

Argued about food.

Sang songs.

A group of Sisters of Battle sat among them.

One was laughing.

Another listened to an old Guardsman tell a story that became less believable every time he told it.

A third had agreed to an arm-wrestling contest.

Mara stopped immediately.

**MARA:**
“She’ll win.”

**CHIBI:**
“Probably.”

The Guardsman opposite the Sister was enormous.

The Sister smiled.

Their hands met.

The soldiers shouted.

A few seconds later—

his hand struck the table.

The hall erupted.

The Guardsman stared at his defeated arm.

The Sister raised her cup.

He raised his.

They drank together.

Mara grinned.

**MARA:**
“Knew it.”

—

The Black Templars stood nearer the shrine.

Black armour.

White tabards.

Chains.

Weapons far too large for anybody sensible.

Mara watched them.

**MARA:**
“They don’t look like they’re having fun.”

**CHIBI:**
“They might be.”

“That one definitely isn’t.”

A Templar stood motionless beside several singing Guardsmen.

The chorus came.

A deep voice joined them.

Mara blinked.

The Space Marine still had not moved.

But he was singing.

Another Templar joined.

Then another.

Mara folded her arms.

**MARA:**
“Fine.”

—

A bell sounded.

Once.

Then twice.

On the third note, conversations began to fade.

A priest climbed onto a temporary platform.

Thousands turned towards him.

He spoke of the Emperor.

Of Saints.

Of the dead.

Of people whose names would never leave their regiment.

Of worlds held because ordinary people had refused to abandon them.

He spoke about duty.

About love.

And about fear.

That surprised Mara.

He did not tell them not to be afraid.

He said fear was something people could carry together.

Then a Sister began to sing.

One voice.

Another joined.

Then the Guardsmen.

Then the Black Templars.

Mara did not know the hymn.

An old soldier beside her noticed.

He sang one line slowly.

Mara copied him.

Wrong.

He shook his head.

Tried again.

She copied him.

Better.

By the third chorus, she could follow.

The words were about home.

Light.

Standing.

Remembering.

Not being alone.

Mara sang louder.

—

Afterwards, the feast returned.

Food.

Dice.

Stories.

Someone played an old stringed instrument.

Another regiment answered with drums.

A group of Sisters changed one verse of a marching song to insult the soldiers at the next table.

The soldiers shouted back.

Chibi acquired something on a stick.

**CHIBI:**
“What is this?”

A Guardsman shrugged.

“Protein.”

Chibi looked at Mara.

**CHIBI:**
“Suspicious.”

Mara nodded.

Hours passed.

The vast hall stopped feeling vast.

Mara knew where the best bread was.

Which Sister cheated slightly at dice.

Which Guardsman sang too loudly.

Which Black Templar had finally joined the chorus.

She knew the hymn now.

Then the bells rang again.

—

One.

Two.

Three.

Mara smiled.

**MARA:**
“Another song?”

Chibi said nothing.

People were standing.

But differently.

The laughter faded.

Cups were emptied.

Cards abandoned.

Plates pushed aside.

The Sister who had been laughing earlier checked her bolter.

Another closed her armour.

The Guardsmen took rifles from racks.

The old soldier folded a photograph and placed it inside his jacket.

Engines began to wake.

The paper flowers on the Leman Russ trembled.

Mara stared.

**MARA:**
“What are they doing?”

**CHIBI:**
“Getting ready.”

“For what?”

He hesitated.

That was enough.

Mara looked towards the forming columns.

**CHIBI:**
“War.”

—

Mara looked back at the tables.

Half-full cups.

Bread.

Cards.

Dice.

The unfinished feast.

**MARA:**
“But they were just having a party.”

**CHIBI:**
“Yep.”

“They were laughing.”

“Yep.”

“They were singing.”

“Yep.”

“They were happy.”

“Some of them.”

“And now they’re going to kill people.”

Chibi looked towards the opening blast doors.

**CHIBI:**
“Probably.”

Mara frowned.

**MARA:**
“That doesn’t fit.”

—

Then the hymn began again.

The same hymn.

But faster.

Boots struck the floor beneath it.

The Sisters sang.

The Guardsmen joined.

Then the Black Templars.

The melody Mara had learned over bread and laughter now travelled through armoured ranks.

Mara listened.

**MARA:**
“They’re still singing.”

**CHIBI:**
“Yep.”

“But the party is over.”

Chibi watched the columns move.

**CHIBI:**
“Is it?”

Mara looked again.

The banners from the celebration were being carried at the head of regiments.

The reliquaries were moving with the Sisters.

The same people sang the same words.

Nothing had been left behind except tables.

Mara’s eyes widened.

**MARA:**
“They’re taking it with them.”

“The song?”

“Yes.”

“The prayers.”

“Yep.”

“The feeling.”

Chibi looked at the marching soldiers.

**CHIBI:**
“Probably.”

Mara watched.

**MARA:**
“So the party is walking.”

—

Near a transport, a young Guardsman was trying to fasten his helmet.

His hands were shaking.

He dropped the clasp.

Picked it up.

Dropped it again.

A Sister noticed.

She crossed to him.

She did not tell him not to be afraid.

She did not tell him he would survive.

She sang one line of the hymn.

Quietly.

The Guardsman looked at her.

She repeated it.

He answered.

His voice broke.

A soldier nearby joined him.

Then another.

The young man’s hands were still shaking.

But he fastened his helmet.

Mara watched.

**MARA:**
“He’s still scared.”

**CHIBI:**
“Yep.”

“The song didn’t make him less scared.”

“No.”

“Then it didn’t work.”

Chibi looked at the young soldier joining his unit.

**CHIBI:**
“Maybe that wasn’t what it was supposed to do.”

Mara frowned.

**MARA:**
“What did it do?”

Chibi watched the soldier march away.

**CHIBI:**
“Maybe it gave his fear somewhere to walk.”

—

The army moved.

Infantry.

Transports.

Sororitas.

Tanks.

Black Templars walking among them like moving statues.

Not everyone sang.

Some prayed.

Some joked.

Some stared straight ahead.

One Guardsman was still eating bread.

Mara almost laughed.

Then she saw the old soldier who had taught her the hymn.

**MARA:**
“Havel!”

He stopped.

Smiled.

Mara ran over.

Then realised she did not know what to say.

So she asked the simplest question.

**MARA:**
“Why are you going?”

Havel looked towards the open doors.

Then towards the people behind him.

He tapped the photograph inside his jacket.

“Because they’re staying.”

Mara frowned.

Havel pointed behind her.

Towards the civilians farther inside the complex.

Towards the people who were not marching.

“My lot’s between them and what comes through those gates.”

He adjusted his rifle.

“That’ll do.”

Mara looked at him.

**MARA:**
“Not because the Emperor told you?”

Havel smiled.

“Could be He did.”

Then he touched his chest.

“Mostly because I did.”

Someone called his name.

He raised two fingers to Mara.

Then disappeared into the column.

—

Mara watched him go.

**MARA:**
“That wasn’t the priest’s answer.”

**CHIBI:**
“No.”

“The priest said the Emperor.”

“Yep.”

“Havel said the people behind him.”

“Yep.”

“The Sisters might say both.”

“Probably.”

A Black Templar passed close enough to hear them.

Mara looked very far upwards.

Then asked:

**MARA:**
“Why are you going?”

The Space Marine stopped.

“To serve the Emperor.”

Mara hesitated.

**MARA:**
“How do you know He wants this?”

The Templar looked towards the open doors.

“Faith.”

That was all.

He walked on.

Mara stared after him.

**MARA:**
“That wasn’t Havel’s answer either.”

**CHIBI:**
“No.”

“But they’re marching together.”

“Yes.”

—

Another squad passed.

One soldier sang.

One was silent.

One looked terrified.

Another looked excited.

Another seemed bored.

All went in the same direction.

Mara watched them.

**MARA:**
“They don’t even feel the same thing.”

“No.”

“But they’re all doing the same thing.”

“Yep.”

She became quiet.

**MARA:**
“So everyone doesn’t have to feel the same thing for everyone to move the same way.”

Chibi looked at her.

**CHIBI:**
“No.”

Mara watched the banners.

The Saints.

The reliquaries.

The rifles.

The flowers tied to tanks.

The songs.

The people.

**MARA:**
“Then maybe the feast doesn’t tell everyone what to feel.”

She thought.

**MARA:**
“Maybe it points.”

Chibi tilted his head.

**CHIBI:**
“Sometimes.”

—

The great hall slowly emptied.

Servitors collected plates.

Candles were extinguished.

Someone folded the cloths.

The arm-wrestling table remained crooked.

Outside, the hymn grew quieter as the army moved away.

Mara tapped the rhythm once against the table.

Then stopped.

**MARA:**
“I liked the song better before.”

Chibi looked at her.

**CHIBI:**
“It’s the same song.”

“I know.”

A long silence.

Mara looked towards the open doors.

The last Leman Russ disappeared beyond them.

Its little paper wreath still shaking against the cannon.

Then Mara turned.

Not towards Chibi.

Towards us.

Chibi noticed.

For once, he did not interrupt.

There was no accusation in Mara’s face.

Only confusion.

**MARA:**
“If people say God wants them to go to war…”

A pause.

“…how do they know?”

Another pause.

**MARA:**
“Who told them?”

She looked directly at us.

**If someone told you that God wanted you to march against somebody else — what would you need to know before you followed?**

—

**Game:** Warhammer 40,000
**System:** Wrath & Glory / Imperium Maledictum
**Campaign:** Mythveil Chronicles
**Theme:** The Bacchanalia · Month IX · Week III — When the Feast Moves

**PLAY EPIC. FEEL THE STORY.**

Campaigns and games:
https://startplaying.games/gm/dunchan

Research, philosophy and the living worlds of Mythveil Chronicles:
https://www.patreon.com/c/mythveilchronicles_bydunchanhuntergames