Fire rained down.
The Tribunal began choosing to gradually withdraw from the battlefield, as their warships secured the orbit, repelling wave after wave of attacks from the Chaos Fleet. Yet the latter similarly did not cease their attempts. They found ways to bypass the Tribunal's defenses, aiming to attack the planet directly.
And indeed, some of them succeeded.
A black silhouette emerged from the storm, as if it were part of the dim world itself. It roared as it charged forward, the power claw in its hand tearing through the howling blizzard.
Then it was stopped by the Thundering War Hammer.
"You still haven't all died."
Duanmu Huai raised the Thunder Warhammer, gazing at the enemy clad in heavy black power armor before him—on their helmets were twisted skulls and blood-red wings. Not familiar, yet not unknown.
"Tell me, Koz's bastards, even your own father spat on you, cursed you, abandoned you, so what is the meaning of your existence?"
"Lapdogs of the False Emperor!"
