Draft

It was heavy, heavier than anything he had held before. Heavier than the hauling he did in the Hive City. Heavier than when he held his son for the first time, heavier still than when he held his son for the last time. The man would never call himself important, or unique... he was but one man in the grand symphony that was The Imperium of Man.

But right now? The blade slung across his back felt as if he were attempting to carry away the very Angel that had held it mere hours before. They were terrifying, awe inspiring, everything that an Angel should be and so much more. But watching them fall... for some that might shake their faith, but for the man? It simply drove home just how important they were...

"Carry it home..." They had asked... him, of all people given the task of returning home an Angel's blade. For but a split second he almost laughed, but realized better of it. If that Angel saw something in him, who was he to call them fool.

So, with the dwindling sound of battle on the horizon the man moved, carefully wrapping the blade in all the cloth he could spare, weaving in every single charm and purity seal that had once found it's home on his own person. It was far more important than himself...

A weight brushed against his mind, pointing him in the direction of the echoed gunfire... not his first choice, but if any lingering Angels still fought, it would be most likely that they were there, and barring that? It would be inevitable he would run into someone who could help him in his task. He had never before considered himself especially zealous, but the idea of the most faithful aiding him in his task  gave him some measure of comfort.

The weight pushed this time, more insistent than before... to battle it shall be.