Another day, another vicious tech-barbarian joins the ranks. Was it the cajoling of heretic priests that led him from the righteous path, or was it the calling of his own dark nature? What nightmares now drive him on, what whispering voices pursue him in his sleep, what rictus scream twists his features behind that mask?
What about this mutant? Did desperate pacts with the dark gods see him changed, tormented in flesh and recast in spirit to become the creature we see now? Or did he live a life of shackled ignominy beneath the Imperial heel, too lowly even to be harvested for servitor-spares lest he sully the holy-machines to which he was bound, until the coming of Chaos saw him freed? Did he recognise the secret masters of his heart as unnameable things ran wild through the temple avenues beneath which he toiled? Did he kill the guardsman that once wore this uniform, pulling him apart with claw and tooth and rage, garbing himself in discarded flack armour and taking up his fallen grenade launcher that he might serve the Lords of the Abyss?