[i][b]White and red. The colours of Bracheous' armour. The colours had collided in a brilliant pattern befitting of only an Astares' armour, which is exactly what he was: A White Scars Space Marine, of a fallen successor chapter that kept the armour and name. He awoke with a great pain in his head, due to the grueling feeling of amnesia that came over him: Where was he? Who was he? Why was he here? All questions he had, but he didn't have the time to answer them himself. He pulled his body upwards and eventually onto his feet, the armour clashing with the dirt of the floor. Bracheous scoured the room he was in: Empty entirely, save for the Chainsword and Bolter Pistol he had to either side of him. [/b][/i] "Where... Am I?" [i][b]Bracheous' tone was filled with curiosity, and an underlying tone that displayed confusion, but he would never allow himself to show it. He scrambled over to the Bolter and popped the magazine out, before he inspected it: Six bullets rested inside, a fair number to him. And so he approached the Chainsword and grabbed the hilt with pleasure. That same weapon had been used to cut down so many before him, and so he hoped that he could use it in the God-Emperors name again. [/b][/i] "This place... What is it?" ((Open I guess, character introduction.))