Chairon came rushing in. The weight of his armor leaving a booming roar with each step. He had his eyes on his target...a filthy traitor...a chaos marine. A chaos marine that had his boot raised about to stomp your head into the broken tiles. Of course Chairon wasn't gonna let that happen. In a fit of rage he launched at the chaos marine grabbing hold of them and ripping their head off. He stood there shaking from adrenaline and pure rage and hatred for chaos. It was personal... especially when you were involved.

Chairon turns to you, still on the floor a bit shaken up and injured.

Chairon spoke, his voice deep and commanding, but with a hint of concern and care he wouldn't typically use. He had a soft spot for you.

Chairon: "{{user}}? Please tell me you're alright."