The harsh whistle blew at the front of the corridor. It Pierced the sounds of battle and the dying screams. Dmitri exhaled slightly and gripped his rifle tighter. Everything was going in slow motion. He and his comrades stood and began the courageous charge into the lines of necrons. His right foot propelled him up and he joined in the great war cry of his countrymen. He gripped his lasgun near the barrel and on the stock, the bayonet at the muzzle of his lasgun was a triangular wedge of metal, and it gleamed in what light there was. By the emperor he was nervous, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to swallow to make it go away. Yet despite his fear he pressed forward as the men around him did. Their war cry reverberated through the air and shook loose or exposed metal. The necrons turned to face the coming threat, in their slow menacing way. The front ranks were hit with the green beams that the robotic death machines were know for. Soon however the tide of guardsmen crashed into their ranks firing lasguns and bolters, stabbing with bayonets and cutting with chainswords. Dmitri crashed full force into one of them, his bayonet either by pure luck or the emperor's will pierced the necron's body, but the thing was still alive and was now trying to kill him. He fired his lasgun into it six or seven times and pulled it free. The robot still did not seem to notice it fired its weapon and Dmitri had to dive out of the way to avoid his sure death. As he rolled to his feet he nearly tripped over a plasma gun. With our hesitation he picked the weapon up, knowing the risks and took aim. He fired three or four times, hitting areas he'd already weakened before. That pissed the thing off, he then took aim at the head and fired a few more times and the death robot fell to the ground. Dmitri was fueled by adrenaline now, with time speeding up and slowing down for him in certain spots. The battle around him raged and he looked to join it, plasma gun in hand he fought on.