He ran.
He ran in fear, complete fear. A Guardsman of the Imperial Guard. He knew what he was now. A coward. He didn’t want to be here. Anywhere but here. He didn’t dare look back. Fearful of what he had seen. He had seen Chaos. Ripping apart his comrades in arms. Forever defiling his previous views of war. He had believed the propaganda, and had joined the ranks of the Imperial Guard for the glory and victory. He didn’t see any of that back there. All he saw was thousands of men and women being slaughtered. He had seen them dutifully march to their doom. Then the enemy came. Monsters and horrors that were blasphemous and terrifying. He’d seen a girl’s head explode in a shower of matter, an entire squad incinerated by a flamer, a doll that had until then miraculously survived, only to be stamped out by the skull of a tank crewman. There was no glory. There was no honour. All a lie. So many other things he saw he could not wipe from his mind. And so he ran. Ran from it all. Even though he knew he was doomed. The Commissar would find him. He would not let him live. The first Summary Execution he saw was what first broke his spirit, right before the enemy had even made contact with them. A fresh recruit had begun to show signs of fear. A primeval terror had set over him, and within five seconds of him starting to shake, the Commissar had struck.

“What is this?” asked the Commissar with his contemptuous gaze. “Is this what you half-wits call a soldier?” by now the other squads had paused in their marching to nervously watch the scene unfolding. “You dare defile the Emperor’s forces by shaking?” the man was staring into the Commissar’s eyes, pleading to not have his now-inevitable fate. The Commissar was dragging it on, to let everyone who could see or hear know that anything that so much showed a hint of fear or leaving would be cruelly dealt with. “What are you?” the trooper in front of him was barely able to answer. “I…I…what?”
“Are you not a Guardsman of His most glorious Imperial Guard? Are you not meant to follow His will and act upon your duty? Are you not a coward?” the Commissar now pulled out his laspistol. “By the grace of the God-Emperor of Mankind, and by the powers vested in me by the Commissariat, charged with maintaining discipline within the ranks of the Imperial Guard of the Imperium of Man, you are hereby declared a coward and summarily executed! Do you have any last words?” the man now crying in front of him merely stammered, “i…i…-“ a sharp snap-crack of a laspistol went off as the corpse crumpled down to the ground. “Let this be an example to you all of the fate of cowards, if even for a second you falter, I will hunt you down, and make your guilt known to you as I dispense justice. Now march forward!” the soldiers around reluctantly began marching again, raw recruits that had until now been confident and naive, thinking that they would be participating in a glorious victory.

Then the killing started.

They had died.

And he had ran.

He turned around.

One word.

“Coward.”

And for the last time in his life did he hear the snap-crack of a laspistol.