Bzzzzt—!
"The frequency is still increasing..."
"No, something's wrong! This isn't right!"
At last, the Tech-Priests of the Mechanicus—who had been absorbed in the so-called "Miracle of the Omnissiah's Descent"—realized that something was amiss.
Their faces, stitched with machinery beneath their flesh, visibly tensed. Even their mechanical voices grew sharper, filled with anxiety.
One of the Tech-Priests extended a bundle of metallic cables from the hunch on his back. With the aid of a skull-faced servitor cherub, he retrieved an ancient Mechanicus prayer codex—wrapped in plasteel and bound with bio-treated lambskin parchment. From the metal-grated mouth came muttered streams of binary oil-chant: "My canticles were correct… why does the Machine Spirit rage?"
Upon the surface of the Honkai Cube, the light flared once more—brilliant, glaring, and rising ever higher.
Even the massive subterranean fortress complex of Kasr Kraf—and the ancient caverns it rested within—began to tremble violently. Facing such an immense and immediate energy surge, the psykers among the Adeptus Astartes instantly entered maximum alert.
Before their eyes, the cubic crystal—embedded into the power core of the heavy void shield generator—glowed like a blazing sun. It burned so fiercely it resembled a miniature star undergoing nuclear fusion, radiating endless light and heat.
Crack-crack-crack! Almost simultaneously, not far from the generator's underground chamber, the colossal reactor that powered the vast Kasr Kraf Fortress also began to shake.
Whooom—!
The searing temperature continued to rise. Even the transhuman warriors of the Adeptus Astartes could feel the scorching sting on their exposed skin beyond their power armor.
"This is bad!"
"Shut it down! Stop! You grease-headed machine priests—stop chanting! You're going to blow us all to hell!"
The power armor of the Space Marines groaned under the strain—screeching like metal under collapse. It was as if destruction itself had drawn near. The demigod genes in their bodies seemed to burn, and all could feel the suffocating pressure and dread radiating from the awakened crystal.
Such majesty and destruction—it was unlike the corruption of Chaos.
Even the Astartes without psychic sensitivity felt as if their consciousness was sinking into a void. For a fleeting instant, they seemed to glimpse something within the boundless void—beyond the highest heavens—where, in a flash of crimson light, a supernova blazed.
We are but ants before it!
In less than a millisecond, the quake beneath their feet jolted every Space Marine back to awareness. Their bloodshot eyes widened as they exchanged tense, uncertain looks.
"Lord Dubois!"
Amidst the quaking, one of the Astartes sergeants turned to Dubois, his voice rising in panic.
"If the relic's energy output continues to rise unchecked, even if it manages to restart the shut-down systems, the overload will drive the entire power grid beyond its limits! We'll all be damned!"
"Is there any way to halt the relic's activation sequence?"
Everyone knew that heavy void shield generators consumed staggering amounts of energy and space. Normally, for both safety and efficiency, their placement was kept close to the main reactor.
As for fueling such a colossal field generator with Promethium shipments? Emperor forbid—that was a desperate emergency measure. To power a fortress-scale void shield like that would earn you nothing but curses from your own men.
Thus, ancient reactors directly linked to the planetary core—drawing raw geothermal heat—became the most viable energy source for ground fortresses. Countless hive worlds across the Imperium used this same method.
Yet, such designs had one fatal flaw: if the reactor connected to the planetary core were ever sabotaged or detonated… it would mean planetary annihilation.
And now, the Honkai Cube's runaway energy output was making that nightmare a possibility.
By the Emperor…!
We have erred—Your divine wrath is beyond our comprehension!
"This… I…"
Even Dubois himself was stunned. Since when had his shipborne Honkai Cube reached such terrifying levels of power output? He had no idea.
He had only meant to help—to use the Cube's unique Honkai energy pulse to reactivate Kasr Kraf's force field generator, which had been shut down due to overload from the heretical Chaos fleet's assault.
He had only meant to see if the Honkai energy could supplement a portion of Kasr Kraf Fortress's power grid—to let the fortress's weapon arrays fire at higher frequency.
Yet the moment it was installed, the result was far beyond his expectations. Not only the underground facility's energy core, but even the towering blackstone obelisks within the ancient caverns—structures that seemed to have existed long before the fortress itself—reacted to the Honkai energy's presence. They began to shimmer, vibrate, and resonate as though awakening.
They synchronized, trembled, and shone.
As for what followed, Dubois was utterly bewildered.
If his shipborne Honkai Cube had ever possessed such immense power output back during the Tyranid campaign, would he have been chased halfway across the sector by those damned bugs?
"Yes… the identity verification for the case. Let me try it."
As the thought struck him, Dubois strode forward decisively—but just then, zzzzzt—!
A wave of overwhelming Honkai energy burst outward before his eyes, rippling through the chamber in an expanding ring. The accompanying heat surge caused the entire hall's temperature to spike sharply. Every metallic structure of the underground facility began to resonate in high-frequency vibration.
Across the ancient blackstone geometries, lines of violet-red light spread like molten rivers—finding their way outward as if seeking release for the contained energy.
"Watch out!"
Several hands reached out and pulled Dubois down, shielding him behind an adamantine shield.
Crack—!
It was as if the system had reached its critical threshold. A massive rift was torn open, its jagged edges glowing with gold and violet light that intertwined in strange, shifting patterns.
The radiance that burst forth was incomparable—its golden brilliance eclipsed all other lights, reducing even the fully armored Magi Dominus of the Mechanicus to faint, flickering candles before its glory.
Thud—!
With the sound and weight of something colossal stepping onto solid ground, the tremor ran through everyone present.
From within the rift of space-time, bathed in that supreme light of Finality, a majestic figure emerged—an angelic giant descending upon the world.
The white wings unfurled, and the golden light radiated such warmth that even standing within it filled all hearts with instinctive hope.
None could describe his face—it was too beautiful, too flawless, divine beyond mortal comprehension. Every movement carried an unquestionable authority.
By the Emperor!
At that instant, every Astartes present—especially those bearing the insignia of the teardrop and wing—felt their twin hearts pounding with a rhythm beyond human measure. Their blood surged like twin engines roaring within.
"San… San… Sanguinius!?"
"Father!!"
Some were overcome with awe and joy, others with disbelief and fury, while still others stood silent, stunned into reverent silence. But Sanguinius did not turn to them.
His gaze fixed instead upon the towering blackstone structures ahead.
"Come out."
Come out… who?
Seeing Sanguinius speak, Dubois—still sheltered behind the adamantine shield—instinctively began to step forward.
But then—clack, clack, clack—!
"Variable."
The rasping voice that answered carried a grinding metallic undertone.
Thud… Thud…
A set of living metal fingers tapped rhythmically against a command staff. The segmented metal cloak of the figure shifted with each movement, producing a deep, resonant clatter. From the shadows emerged a skeletal being forged entirely of living metal, its surface reflecting a dull, cold sheen.
"Necron!" hissed one of the Astartes sergeants, drawing his chainsword with a growl.
...
"For the Emperor! For Holy Terra—!"
On the surface above, the battle raging across Kasr Kraf's ruins had devolved into a blood-soaked melee.
The corrupted soil—tainted by the vile sorceries of Chaos—had withered and blackened. Both mortal corpses and superhuman remains were warped and defiled by festering decay.
The once-holy district, filled with cathedrals and shrines, had become a polluted wasteland—its sacred altars profaned by blasphemous rituals.
Bloated, wormlike abominations crawled across the toppled statues of the Emperor—a sight of unbearable sacrilege.
Even the Apothecaries of the Astartes struggled to retrieve the gene-seed from their fallen brothers. Though the void shields had flared back to life, the Chaos landing forces were already too numerous.
It was too late.
The teleportation beacons had been established. The scale of Chaos incursion had already reached catastrophic proportions. The Imperial defenders might be able to suppress the enemy's orbital bombardments for now, but as long as the landing zones held, Abaddon could keep reinforcing his forces endlessly.
In battle, Imperial void shields could not stop close-range strikes—such as melee blows from Imperial Knights or boarding craft piercing through their fields to assault the ships within.
That was why boarding warfare had always been so prevalent within the Imperium of Man.
As the battle raged on, the mounting loss of life and the rising tide of pain and despair saturated every corner of the fortress world. Under the blasphemous rituals of Chaos Sorcerers and Dark Apostles, hordes of Daemons and corrupted cultists were unleashed onto the battlefield.
Alongside them came the relentless tide of Chaos Space Marines and Traitor Titans. In numbers never before seen, they surged forward like an unstoppable wave, battering the fortress world that now trembled beneath the shadow of the Warmaster's wrath.
Just as the Cadian fleet within the Cadian Gate could not possibly match the unholy armadas of the Black Legion, the difference in Astartes strength was even more impossible to bridge.
This was Abaddon's foundation—the power of the Traitor Legions. The legacy of Horus' sons. Veterans of the Long War, forged through ten millennia of endless conflict.
Zzrrt—!
The sharp, searing sound of a melta detonation split the air, momentarily drowning out the constant thunder of artillery.
A group of Chaos Space Marines—who had been butchering retreating Imperial Guardsmen—were obliterated in the blast, their smoldering corpses lying twisted among the shattered rubble.
"Soldiers! Raise your weapons! Defend our final honor!"
"Traitors are not invincible! The Emperor's will guides us! Cadia stands—!"
A Cadian officer, half his body protruding from the hatch of a Predator tank, roared his rallying cry—spittle flying from his lips. But the next instant, a plasma bolt struck the tank beneath him.
BOOM—!
The explosion tore through the engine block, engulfing the vehicle in black smoke. The squad of Guardsmen advancing alongside it were thrown to the ground, their lasguns flying from their hands as they fell amidst the storm of metal and fire.
"The Corpse-Emperor cannot save you!"
"Victory belongs to Warmaster Abaddon!"
The Black Legion veterans—clad in desecrated black armor trimmed with brass, adorned with the eight-pointed star of Chaos and the skulls of Daemons—charged forward like devils born from hell itself. They tore through the Cadian ranks with merciless ferocity, rending both body and soul.
Zzzzt—Zzzzt—!
Flesh and ceramite clashed. The simple armor of the Cadian infantry could not withstand the monstrous, mutated claws of the corrupted Astartes. Their bodies were shredded into bloody fragments that painted the battlefield red.
"Cowards! Traitors! DIE!!"
Bang! Bang!
The instant a Traitor's plasteel shoulder plate shattered, a squad of Space Wolves—scarred and bloodied—charged like a pack of hunting beasts. Wielding blood-soaked chain axes, they roared as they crashed into the Chaos Marines who were butchering their mortal allies…
THUD! THUD! THUD!
The clash was brutal. Chains and talons screamed against one another, sparks flying with every impact—each blow a raw expression of hatred and vengeance.
"Oh, my dear brothers of the Sixth Legion… how pitiful. You are still so ignorant."
The mutated Chaos Marine's grotesque form had long since outgrown his armor. His body was a swollen mass of flesh, his power armor bursting with pus-filled boils and bulbous growths. The head—fused completely with the helmet—split open, oozing blood and bile as he spoke.
"Ignorant?"
The Space Wolf bared his teeth in a feral grin, his rugged face filled with mocking defiance. "Like you? Back home on Fenris, I was the finest young hunter for ten leagues, you bastard! You dare mouth off before a son of Russ?!"
With a roar, the Space Wolf lunged forward—his fury exploding.
Slash! Blood erupted as his right chest was pierced, the wound spurting crimson. The agony tore through his soul. Chaos filth always loved their little tricks. He knew it was poisoned—but he still took the blow head-on, only to strike back harder.
The chain axe came down mercilessly, cleaving through the Traitor's head. The headless corpse toppled to the ground with a heavy thud.
"Hahaha… you're a coward… heh—" The Chaos Marine sneered weakly before the Space Wolf's chain axe silenced him forever. But the Space Wolf himself was far from unscathed—his shoulder plate, bearing the emblem of the Death's Head Angel, was riddled with explosive craters. Each bolt shell that struck drove him further back, his massive frame trembling under the sheer force.
Of the squad he had brought, only three… no, two of his blood brothers still stood, fighting desperately.
Kill one, break even. Kill two—profit. Worth it.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw them—Khornate Berzerkers, their skull-marked helms crimson with blood, charging toward him in a frenzied tide.
Above, the cataclysm continued. The devastating bombardment from the Chaos fleet had torn through Cadia's surface and shattered the main city walls. Billowing clouds of smoke rose high, cloaking the descent of drop pods and landing craft that rained down wave after wave.
In the distance, the Dark Mechanicus—servants of Abaddon—had unleashed their profane engines of war, vile machines belching fire and corruption.
Every salvo from the Traitor Titan Legions struck the earth like a thunderous hammer, quaking the very planet.
Through the choking smog, anti-air batteries blazed skyward while debris and flaming wrecks fell like meteors. The Black Legion's overwhelming might pressed inexorably forward against the loyalist defenders of Cadia.
I hope the relic can be evacuated…
He prayed silently. Then, with a broken laugh, his right arm hung limp and blood-soaked at his side. Yet still, with his remaining strength, he raised his chain axe high once more.
"Come on! Let's see who dies first!"
And then—without warning—
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM—!
He was lifted from the ground.
So were the charging Berzerkers.
The earth erupted. Soil, debris, and malformed Daemons were hurled high into the air—dozens of meters up—before crashing back down in a thunderous wave. The ground beneath them rippled like the surface of an ocean struck by a divine blow. On the far horizon, the towering silhouettes of Chaos Titans began to tilt and collapse, one after another.
What was happening? Orbital bombardment?
No—the conditions weren't right.
Could it be reinforcements from the Mechanicus?
The thought barely formed before he saw it.
From the dark, twisted heavens above, a pair of immaculate wings of holy light unfolded. The radiance pierced the shroud of smoke and shadow. In that moment, all pain and fatigue within his body were swept away—suppressed by sheer divine presence.
He froze, awe-struck, eyes wide open even as his strength failed.
"By the Emperor's golden throne… Russ above, what am I seeing?!"
The Archangel—stood upon the earth.
—
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