The clash between Rogal Dorn and Perturabo was never merely a fraternal conflict, but an ultimate contest of ideals and iron wills.
This time, on the shattered frontlines of the Ardenburg fortress complex, the destinies of the two Primarchs intertwined once more, igniting a war that would decide the fate of the Imperium and Chaos.
Rogal Dorn's Storm's Teeth roared in his hand, each swing unleashing a thunderous boom. He led his Honor Guard, tearing a path through the Chaos Iron Warriors, pressing directly towards Perturabo's location.
Perturabo, clad in highly advanced intelligent power armour, gripped the massive Forgebreaker Warhammer in his hand, a weapon belonging to his deceased brother Ferrus Manus. Perturabo wore a highly modified Iron Rider pattern Terminator armour known as 'Logos'.
This defensive suit was one of the most advanced armours of its era, equipped with various support systems, teleportation beacons, and a pair of quad-barreled wrist autocannons.
He stood at the entrance of a fortress woven from iron and demonic corruption, coldly watching his charging brother.
"Dorn!" Perturabo's voice was icy, laced with sarcasm and hatred. "Have you finally come to die yourself, or has Father sent you again to clean up my mess?"
"Perturabo, your creations are nothing but toys for corruption," Dorn retorted without hesitation, his tone filled with resolve. "Today, I will end you, and your betrayal."
Perturabo let out a sneer, then swung his massive hammer directly at Rogal Dorn. The great hammer tore through the air, hurtling towards Dorn's head with lethal force.
However, Dorn dodged like lightning, his Chainsword arcing directly towards Perturabo's chest plate. The battle between the two Primarchs erupted like a furious storm.
Each of their strikes was enough to destroy a tank, each collision triggering deafening roars. The surrounding Iron Warriors and Imperial Fists retreated, as this duel surpassed mortal comprehension and endurance.
Perturabo's massive hammer smashed into the ground, which instantly cracked, scattering rocks and metal. Dorn seized the opportunity, swinging Storm's Teeth and slicing a deep gash into Perturabo's shoulder plate.
However, Perturabo's counterattack was equally merciless; he delivered a fierce kick, sending Dorn stumbling back several steps, his chest plate dented. Perturabo used the thrusters on his power armour to fly into the air, raising his quad-barreled wrist autocannons and firing at Rogal Dorn.
Rogal Dorn immediately stepped on a boarding shield from an Iron Warriors he had just torn apart, instantly blocking Perturabo's gunfire. Bullets rained down on the shield, creating continuous vibrations and roars.
"Your defenses," Perturabo mocked, "like the fortresses you build, will ultimately succumb to collapse."
Dorn coldly replied, "And your war machines are nothing but hollow puppets, without souls."
The battle intensified due to their mutual 'historical grievances'. Perturabo summoned his 'Iron Beasts' as reinforcements, colossal war machines fused with demons and machinery, their limbs lashing like iron serpents, attempting to encircle Dorn.
However, Rogal Dorn was fearless; he knelt on one knee, then quickly sprang up, his Chainsword roaring to life as he brought it down, severing the mechanical limb of an Iron Beast. Under the cover of the Honor Guard, he broke through layers of obstacles, once again confronting Perturabo.
Perturabo roared, "Do you truly believe the Imperium can last forever? Our Father merely delayed the demise of this galaxy for a while, while you continue to live in his lies!"
Dorn remained silent, responding to Perturabo's accusations with action. A precise strike sliced across Perturabo's helmet, revealing his face twisted with hatred.
"At least, I won't betray everything I protect!" Dorn bellowed, thrusting his sword at Perturabo.
Perturabo raised his massive hammer to block the blow, then swung it back at Dorn's waist. Dorn was sent flying, crashing into a collapsed barricade. However, he immediately rolled to his feet, raising his Chainsword to block Perturabo's pursuit.
"What about The Second Brother and The Eleventh Brother! What about those Thunder Warriors! He said we were his children, but did he ever treat us like children! We were just his tools, called upon and cast aside at his whim!"
Meanwhile, the firepower of both sides intertwined on the battlefield. The Death Korps of Krieg and the Imperial Fists continuously suppressed the Chaos Iron Warriors on the periphery, but the latter's trenches and fortifications caused significant delays for the Imperial Army.
Just as the battle between the two Primarchs intensified, the distant sky was torn by burning flames. Numerous Imperial drop pods descended like meteors, crashing into the rear of the Chaos forces.
An Imperial Fists warrior shouted, "My lord! Reinforcements have arrived!"
Emerging from the drop pods were warriors from several Space Marine Chapters. They raised their battle standards, shouting the Emperor's name, and began to charge the Chaos army.
Perturabo's attention was drawn to the rear, and he cursed under his breath, "Damn it! Abaddon's plan is truly full of holes."
Dorn seized the moment, savagely striking Perturabo's chest with his Chainsword. The immense force knocked him back, and blood gushed from the wound.
Rogal Dorn said coldly, "You're still so half-hearted; you don't even understand the principle of not being distracted in battle... Are you Guilliman? You will never truly understand what we fight for, Perturabo. Your betrayal will only make you lonelier."
(It must be mentioned that when Guilliman was ambushed by ten Alpha assassins, his mind was still contemplating whether the frescoes on the wall and the table in front of him were correctly arranged, and what history his broken chair had with him.)
Perturabo breathed heavily, gripping his hammer tightly, but for a moment, he did not attack again. His gaze was filled with complex emotions, then a cold smile appeared.
"Have you... have you never made a mistake?"
Hearing Perturabo's words, Dorn reached up and removed his helmet. At this point, Dorn had clearly aged considerably, transforming from a young man's appearance over ten thousand years into a middle-aged man with slightly graying temples.
This was the first time in ten thousand years that Perturabo saw the face of this brother he had 'longed for' and 'deeply resented'. Seeing Dorn's aging, Perturabo's eyes widened slightly, and a pang of sorrow emerged from deep within him.
"The Fourth, to be honest... my plan today went wrong."
Suddenly hearing Dorn admit his mistake, Perturabo could hardly believe his ears. Could time truly change a person?
"You... are you serious? You! Rogal Dorn! Admitting you made a mistake!"
Dorn tossed his helmet aside and then said:
"Yes, I didn't expect... my brothers' support to arrive so quickly this time..."
At this moment, warriors of the Space Wolves and White Scars, led by their Primarchs, quickly filled the gaps in the front lines. In fact... Perturabo looked up, and among the fleets hovering in orbit above, there was an added touch of blue and red... At this moment, Calgar, accompanied by Titus and Cato Sicarius, rapidly landed via drop pods.
And from the red drop pods that landed opposite them, a red-armored warrior wearing an angelic mask also emerged.
"Chapter Master Calgar."
"Chapter Master Dante."
...At this moment, Perturabo smiled. He felt as if he was back on Terra ten thousand years ago, as if nothing had changed, yet everything had changed.
He tightened his grip on the Warhammer in his hand, looking at Rogal Dorn opposite him... "The Seventh, this war... I have sacrificed everything, just to defeat you. I want to prove to the Four Chaos Gods, to Father, to my brothers, to the world! I, Perturabo, am absolutely stronger than you!"
Rogal Dorn picked up his Chainsword and simultaneously propped up the boarding shield, just like an ancient knight. As the Chainsword began to hum, Rogal Dorn assumed his stance:
"I'll give you that chance."
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