The warrior hesitated upon hearing Horus's command, but his instincts as a Legionnaire—honed over ten millennia—remained. Obedience to the Primarch was a program etched into his marrow. He removed his helmet, revealing a distinct Cthonian face. He bore a striking resemblance to Horus; it was a common trait among the Luna Wolves, where the "Sons of Horus" often shared the visage of their genetic father.
"Zafyr Jubal, Sergeant of the First Tactical Squad, 'Poison Rose,' Tenth Company."
The Tenth Company... The face of Loken immediately surged in Horus's mind. Garviel Loken had been the Captain of the Tenth.
"You are Loken's warrior," Horus said.
At the mention of Loken's name, a flash of resentment crossed Jubal's face, which Horus did not miss.
"I am your warrior," Jubal replied, bowing his head.
"I remember you. You died on this planet, in the Whispering Peaks of 63-19. Loken reported it to me. The daemon Samus possessed you..."
Horus narrowed his eyes, observing Jubal. He had recognized him from the start. Jubal had been the highest-ranking officer in the Tenth after Loken and should have been his lieutenant. However, Loken ultimately deemed Jubal unfit and chose Nero instead. It was this bitterness toward Loken and Nero that allowed the daemon Samus to take hold of him in the Whispering Peaks, leading to his eventual death at their hands.
He wasn't the real Jubal. He was a construct built from Jubal's own memories and the memories others held of him, though he seemed unaware of this fact.
"Sergeant, take me to your commander," Horus said with a slight nod.
"Warmaster, the one commanding us is..." Jubal hesitated.
Horus raised a hand, signaling him to stop. He could guess who the leader was, but he didn't want the answer just yet. Like a child anticipating a gift, he wanted to savor the surprise of the moment it was opened.
"Warmaster, he awaits you at the gates of the High City's palace. He said he looks forward to our reunion." Jubal bowed, gesturing for Horus to follow.
"Warmaster," Garon the Soul-Eater whispered with concern, "Should I gather our scattered brothers before—"
"No," Horus refused, shaking his head. "There is no need. My children will not be my enemies."
It wasn't just trust; Horus didn't believe anything here could harm him. If this planet was merely a replica of 63-19, nothing existed that could threaten him.
Suddenly, Horus felt a tremor. The firmament vibrated. He looked up to see a bright star born and extinguished in the blink of an eye.
A battle had erupted in the void.
Tyrell was no stranger to void combat, but this was different. This was a ship-to-ship struggle occurring within the Warp itself. The tides of the Empyrean flowed alongside them, and the horrors of the Warp were inches away. If the hull breached even slightly...
The only comfort was the presence of the Doraemon's Cupboard behind the Red Tear. Hovering above it was the Avatar of the Omnissiah, Holy Saint Suneo, surrounded by unrefined Blackstone that stilled the Warp storms around them.
The enemy had their own countermeasures. A Blackstone Fortress stood amidst the Red Corsairs' fleet, likewise suppressing the Warp's volatility.
However, the ragtag fleet of the Red Corsairs was ultimately no match for the combined forces of the Dark Angels, Blood Angels, and Ultramarines. Even with the Blackstone Fortress, the Vengeful Spirit, and Lorgar's flagship—the Abyss-class battleship Trisagion—they were outclassed. The Imperial side possessed the Abyss-class Doraemon's Cupboard, three Gloriana-class battleships, and the Dark Angels had even brought the Rock to anchor their line.
With the Machine God on their side, they held every advantage in void power. Yet, Tyrell felt an unsettling dread.
Suddenly, Tyrell looked up, peering through the massive viewport of the Red Tear into the Warp. He thought he saw a flicker of blue flame.
Then, he watched as the Glory of Baal, escorting the Red Tear's right flank, detonated. Blue fire swallowed the ship in an instant. That blue light then tore through the Warp like a blade, stabbing directly toward the Red Tear.
"Watch out!" Tyrell roared a warning.
The sound of shattering followed. Ceramite was torn, adamantium snapped, and debris fell like a rain of crystal. Tyrell saw a pair of wings burning with azure flames tear through the Red Tear's armor. Riding the Warp current, a figure slaughtered his way into the ship. Mortal crewmen screamed in terror as the Warp current silently pulled them into the void; in a heartbeat, they vanished as if they had never existed, their very memories blurring in Tyrell's mind.
Searing psychic energy surged as Mephiston instantly plugged the breach, sealing the Warp outside the ship.
The azure wings twitched, revealing the face behind them. Brown skin, long hair... and a bald spot?
It was a brown-skinned man with long hair but a balding crown. His appearance almost made Tyrell mistake him for the Emperor of Mankind, but he soon noticed a second difference: beneath his skin were traces of disease—pigmented spots, bulging veins, and ugly pustules. Though few, they were visible.
The man's gaze fell on Mephiston, a flash of disgust crossing his eyes. He charged like an azure firestorm toward the Librarian. Tyrell was shocked by the man's speed, and even more shocked that he managed to throw himself in the way. His strange precognitive ability worked at its limit, allowing him to block the attack path before the man even moved. Thankfully, the intruder must have ignored Tyrell, not even bothered to bypass him.
The combat blade Dante had gifted Tyrell—once used by the first Chapter Master Raldoron—shattered instantly. Tyrell's arm exploded into gore, bone fragments flying from the burst flesh. His entire arm and his ceramite plating vanished in an instant.
It wasn't that the man's power was limited to one arm; it was that in the brief moment Tyrell bought, their own Angel joined the fray.
Sanguinius was wreathed in golden flames, his fair skin shimmering like silver. The teardrop tip of the Spear of Telesto collided with the longsword in the brown-skinned man's hand.
"Angel," Sanguinius spoke the man's title. "Do you know that after you left, this title belonged to me?"
The "Angel" ignored the provocation. Through the sensing of his bloodline, he recognized Sanguinius as part of the Emperor's genetic lineage. Because of this, the disgust on his face deepened. "Why do you always consort with the Warp?" he said gloomily.
Sanguinius blinked, looking perplexed. "What? Are you not consorting with the Warp yourself?"
"Do you mean to tell me those big wings of yours fly based on the laws of physics?"
"Friend, you need to study aerodynamics and biology. With our body mass, to fly with those wings, you'd need chest muscles over a meter thick."
As he spoke, Sanguinius thrust the Spear of Telesto toward the Angel's chest. Blue and gold flames clashed violently. The two "Angels" were like a myth of light and shadow reborn: one noble, one mad; one beautiful, one hideous. Each clash of sword and spear sounded like the roar of a sinking continent, sparks searing the deck of the Red Tear and forcing Mephiston to grit his teeth to maintain the psychic shield.
Within the Warp, the Abyss-class battleship Trisagion was engaged with both the Honor of Macragge and the Invincible Reason. This ship had been forged over Jupiter by Lorgar and the Dark Mechanicum at the start of the Great Heresy. It was one of only three Abyss-class ships: the Furious Abyss fell at Macragge, the Blessed Lady was captured by Alexander and refitted into the Doraemon's Cupboard, and the last was Lorgar's current flagship. This trident-shaped vessel was an unrivaled terror in void war, and regular Imperial ships were powerless against it, especially with the Vengeful Spirit at its side.
Yet Lorgar remained worried about the Rock and the Doraemon's Cupboard. Both had the power to match an Abyss-class ship. But Lorgar's greatest fear was the "Saint Doraemon"—the Machine God.
Burning blood flowed down from the Warp as the figure of the Angel of Extermination emerged above the Blackstone Fortress. The Blackstone twisted into an eight-pointed star, shifting from suppressing the Warp to amplifying it. In that moment, the entire Warp became a burning furnace.
Bloody visions of death appeared; screaming faces grew from all directions, hot blood flowing from hollow sockets. It was as if volcanoes on a thousand molten planets erupted at once, compressing their energy into a single crimson speck of light.
That speck turned into a bolt of lightning that tore across the Warp, a rift extending from the Blackstone Fortress. It sprayed black smoke, ash, blood, and fire—turning into dark tendrils that consumed both Red Corsair and Imperial ships alike as it stabbed toward the heart of the fleet: the Doraemon's Cupboard.
Bright lightning rose from the Doraemon's Cupboard. The figure of the Omnissiah Suneo became a form of pure energy. The power of the Warp and reality interlaced within him. He conjured Blackstone out of thin air, and Mini-Doras dragged those stones to block the rift that had nearly split the Warp.
The void shook for several moments. Under the influence of the Blackstone, the rift was gradually suppressed until it dissipated.
Lorgar watched breathlessly, waiting for a counterattack.
But there was nothing. Suneo retreated into the Doraemon's Cupboard, and Alexander did not launch any form of retaliation.
Lorgar's heart hammered. Not long ago, he and the Angel of Extermination had discussed an anomaly: Alexander had recovered from Chaos worship far too quickly—so fast it defied logic. When he had suddenly manifested in Nurgle's Garden, it had terrified the Angel of Extermination, causing him to overlook the inconsistency. Lorgar suggested a possibility: perhaps Alexander hadn't recovered at all. Perhaps he was merely forcing a manifestation while his internal state was severely damaged.
Now, the lack of a counterattack seemed to confirm Lorgar's theory. Alexander was likely compromised internally and could not act freely.
This is the chance!
Lorgar hoped the Angel of Extermination would seize this moment to crush the Imperial fleet.
But again, nothing happened. A strange silence fell over the battlefield. The Angel of Extermination did not pursue, falling into a silence mirroring Alexander's.
Is He truly too injured to move freely?
Inside the Blackstone Fortress, the Angel of Extermination was lost in conflicted thought. Is He bluffing?
Is He trying to lure me into attacking so He can crush me with one hand?
The Angel of Extermination didn't believe Alexander could freely wield the power of the Machine God and the Eternal Dragon right now, but if he jumped in front of him and he wasn't heavily injured, the Angel of Extermination didn't think he would survive.
But then again, maybe Alexander really was badly hurt. Maybe he expected the Angel of Extermination to fear a trap and was using that fear to scare him off. But if he thought one step further, Alexander might have expected the Angel of Extermination to think that, and purposely set a trap to hunt him. But if he thought even further...
The Angel of Extermination's expression twisted. He desperately wanted to reach into Alexander's four-dimensional pocket and pull out a "Right-or-Wrong Divination Machine."