=== Maximus ===
Maximus' armor was wreathed in soot, his ceramite plates cracked and stained with daemon ichor. His Thunderhammer, gifted to him by the Grey Knight before the charge, glowed with residual psychic power, each impact sending ripples of annihilating energy through whatever it struck.
The Grey Knights fought beside him, their formation a fortress of silver and holy fury. The earth itself seemed to recoil beneath their synchronized advance, wards burning bright across their armor, and every motion was accompanied by a low, resonant chant that thrummed in the air.
Maximus crushed a Bloodletter's skull beneath his boot, sending its body into spasms as it permanently died. His breathing came out in harsh bursts through his vox-grille, the constant battle rhythm pulsing through his veins like thunder.
To his left, one of the Grey Knights decapitated a daemonette with a sweeping strike, the halberd's psychic edge burning the creature into cinders. Another to his right fired his storm bolter point-blank into a screeching horror, each bolt detonating with the light of sanctified flame.
Maximus tore through the ranks beside them. He swung his Thunderhammer in a wide arc, obliterating a trio of plaguebearers in a single stroke, the psychic backlash igniting the ground in a blaze of blue-white light.
The air was thick with ash, warp-lightning, and the screams of the dying.
He paused for only a moment, his chest rising and falling heavily as he turned to face a new wave of horrors pouring from the sundered veil. And then, amidst the chaos, he noticed the way the Grey Knights fought unimpeded by his presence.
Normally, his null aura, the dead zone that surrounded him, snuffing out warp energies like candles in the wind, would cripple any psyker who drew too near. But these warriors fought with perfect clarity. Their halberds still shimmered with psychic flame, their chants still resonated with the Emperor's light.
During a brief lull, Maximus turned to the warrior who had first spoken to him, the one who had placed the Thunderhammer in his gauntleted grasp. The Grey Knight's armor was inscribed with countless litanies of purity, his visor reflecting the infernal glow of the battlefield.
"Tell me, Cousin," Maximus growled, voice deep and distorted through his vox. "Why does my presence not unmake your power? I am a null, a void against Psykers."
The Grey Knight parried a leaping daemon with effortless precision, driving his halberd through its throat before it could speak its curse. He looked back at Maximus, his tone calm, almost reverent beneath the roar of battle.
"Normally," the Knight replied, his voice a thunderous echo, "your aura would choke the power from our grasp. But here?" he gestured broadly to the horizon, to the thousands of his silver-armored brothers cutting through the legions of the damned. "There are too many of us. Our psychic resonance is unified, intertwined through the Emperor's will. The storm of our might drowns even your might cousin."
Maximus stared for a heartbeat, his hammer humming softly in his grasp. He nodded once. "Emperor be praised."
The Grey Knight nodded before turning away to cleave a charging daemon in two with a psychic roar that shook the heavens.
Black and brass armor surged through the ranks of daemons as Chaos Marines entered the battle, their bolters barking, their laughter guttural and mocking.
Maximus' vision burned red.
He roared, igniting his jump pack, the twin thrusters blasting him forward like a comet. He slammed into the nearest Chaos Marine, crushing the traitor's ribcage with his shoulder guard before driving his Thunderhammer's hilt into his chest before twisting, and knocking the marine down to the ground. The impact turned the heretic into a crater of blood and broken ceramite.
Another Chaos Marine swung a chainaxe at him, roaring a warcry to Khorne, but Maximus caught the weapon mid-swing with the shaft of his weapon, the chainteeth screaming impotently against its adamantium haft. With a twist of inhuman strength, he tore it free and crushed the heretic's helmet with a mighty swing.
To his flank, the Grey Knights moved as a single entity, their halberds flashing in blinding arcs of consecrated light. Every daemon, every heretic that dared to come near them was reduced to ash. Bolts of silver flame streaked through the air, detonating daemons by the hundreds.
Maximus fought beside them, his hammer rising and falling in perfect rhythm. He shattered a Chaos Terminator's torso with a single blow, the Thunderhammer's impact vaporizing the heretic's torso and sending his legs tumbling backward.
Then, one of the greater daemons, a monstrous Bloodthirster, crashed down from above, its whip snapping, axe burning with warpfire. It roared in defiance, shaking the sky.
Maximus didn't hesitate.
He leapt skyward, propelled by his jump pack, and met the daemon in midair.
He swung upward, catching the daemon beneath the chin, snapping its head back with a wet crack. The creature staggered, howling, before the Grey Knights below unleashed a combined psychic assault, a storm of silver light that turned the daemon's flesh to molten ruin.
When the beast finally collapsed, Maximus landed beside its corpse, armor smoking from the heat of the psychic backlash. He looked to the Grey Knight captain who had fought beside him.
"Tell me," he said, slamming his hammer into the skull of a bloodletter that had tried to rise behind him, "how do you plan to stop that abomination?"
The silver-armored knight beside him, paused only to drive his halberd through a daemon's chest. He twisted, yanked the weapon free, and turned his helm toward Maximus.
"Stop her?" the Grey Knight repeated, his voice distorted through vox filters but strangely calm amidst the carnage. "That was never the plan."
Maximus froze mid-strike, his hammer resting against his shoulder as he stared toward the horizon, where Abeloth's form loomed before the shimmering portal. The warp howled beyond her as… she suddenly stopped.
"What do you mean never the plan?" he demanded. "She's moments from stepping through!"
The Grey Knight parried a lunging fiend, decapitating it in the same motion. Warp ichor splashed across his armor, evaporating instantly in a burst of holy fire. "We do not seek to stop her, Ultramarine," he said evenly. "We seek to send her through."
Maximus turned sharply, disbelief cutting through the haze of battle. "You mean to push her into the warp?"
The Knight nodded once, even as he raised his halberd and channeled psychic might through its haft. The weapon glowed a radiant blue as a bolt of purifying fire streaked forth, vaporizing a charging daemon in the distance. "It is the only way," he said. "Within the material realm, she cannot be destroyed, at least not by any mortal means. But inside the warp… There, the Emperor Himself can face her. And perhaps end her existence for all eternity."
A heavy silence hung between the two warriors for only a heartbeat, then the next wave came. Flesh hounds barreled toward them, and the battlefield erupted once more in blood and fire.
Maximus met them head-on, swinging his hammer in a wide arc that crushed several into pulp. "You would send that creature into the very realm of Chaos itself!" he growled, voice thundering over the din of battle. "Do you not risk strengthening the ruinous powers instead of weakening them?"
The Grey Knight's laughter was a low, grim sound. "A risk, yes," he admitted, spinning to impale another daemon through the gut. "But a calculated one. The Four will see her as one of their own, but then they will begin to war with her!"
Maximus crushed a bloodletter beneath his heel, bringing his hammer down on a second. "And if they don't?" he pressed, teeth gritted behind his helm.
"Trust me, they will." the Knight replied. "They always do." He gestured with his halberd toward the portal. "Do you not see? If we cast her into their realm, we turn their attention inward. The gods will war amongst themselves to claim or destroy her. In doing so, they will weaken one another, and give the Emperor and His chosen champions the time they need to strike."
It was madness… Or brilliance. "So… it is to be a gambit," he said finally, smashing another daemon into the mud.
"Exactly." The Grey Knight's voice was steel. "Abeloth will either be devoured or destroy the devourers. Either way, Chaos bleeds."
For a moment the two looked at each other, then Maximus shifted as he saw something.
Sebastian's broken form lay where Abeloth had left him, a ruin of black ceramite and shattered faith. But standing over him now was a man.
He was not clad in armor. No divine halo blazed behind him. He wore only a simple white toga that shimmered faintly with an inner light. His long brown hair flowed in an unseen breeze, and a golden wreath rested upon his brow. Yet even without the radiance, Maximus knew.
His hearts nearly stopped. His knees threatened to buckle.
The Emperor of Mankind had come. Though, strangely, no one else seemed to notice him.
Maximus could not move. He could only watch.
The Emperor knelt beside Sebastian's broken body, the white fabric of His robes unblemished despite the filth and blood of the battlefield. He reached out, one perfect hand resting upon the Black Templar's cracked breastplate. His expression was neither sorrowful nor proud, it was something far greater. Infinite compassion woven with the authority of creation itself.
"Oh, my faithful servant. I have not forgotten you. I have not turned mine eyes from you…" His voice was soft like a whisper, yet Maximus heard it like the tolling of a sacred bell.
Maximus' throat tightened as he took a step forward, unable to believe what he was witnessing.
He watched as the Emperor leaned close, whispering something into Sebastian's ear. The words were too quiet to hear, meant only for the Black Templar.
Then, with the gentleness of a father blessing his child, He spoke clearly, yet quietly still.
"Rise, Son of Dorn."
The Emperor's gaze never wavered as He continued.
"Take up thy Blade of Black Flame… and Crusade endlessly in My name."
Then He stood tall, resplendent and terrible in His majesty. The wreath upon His brow blazed like a miniature sun. His eyes were galaxies of gold and fire. Even the warp seemed to recoil from Him as his power rolled across the galaxy, his robes beginning to shift.
The Emperor raised his voice, and commanded his faithful servant once more.
"Rise, Son of Dorn!"
The very planet shook. Cracks spiderwebbed through the ground, splitting the battlefield as light poured upward from the earth like molten gold.
"Take up thy Blade of Black Flame, and Crusade endlessly in My name!"
And then it happened.
Sebastian's body began to convulse and twitch, the remnants of his armor glowing from within.
The earth split open around him, spewing dust and fire as the Templar's body lifted from the ground. His broken armor reforming, plates repairing themselves before growing into something more, as if guided by unseen hands before his body lowered to the ground gently again.
Maximus stumbled backward, his eyes wide in awe.
He could feel the Emperor's gaze shift.
For a brief instant, the Ultramarine met that gaze, and in that instant, the weight of eternity pressed down upon him. He saw Terra as it had once been, the birth of the Imperium, the fall of the Primarchs, the pain of betrayal, the unyielding will of a man or God who refused to die. He felt it all, saw it all. Saw how this war would end… His own death.
And then the Emperor looked away.
His attention turned toward the vast, howling portal. Toward her.
Abeloth had frozen in place. Her twisted beauty, her cosmic arrogance… gone. For the first time since her emergence, she looked uncertain. Her eyes flickered between terror and fascination as the Emperor of Mankind turned His gaze upon her.
He did not speak. He merely pointed.
And the entire world bowed before that gesture.
The air itself screamed. Warp-lightning shattered across the heavens. Every daemon on the battlefield howled in agony as the Emperor's will burned through them. The portal's edges flared, unstable and furious, reacting to His mere presence.
Then… He was gone.
Vanished as suddenly as He had appeared, leaving behind only the lingering warmth of divinity and the faint echo of His command.
The silence that followed was suffocating. Every being, every human, Astartes, daemon, stood motionless, staring at the space He had once occupied.
It was then that a single, commanding voice cut through the chaos like the stroke of a blade.
"Now is the time!"
Kaldor Draigo's roar echoed across the field, deep and resonant, shaking both air and soul. The Supreme Grand Master of the Grey Knights stood atop a mound of daemon corpses, his armor wreathed in argent flame, his eyes burning like twin suns. He raised the Titansword high.
Instantly, every Grey Knight, from Paladins to Justicars, from battle-worn veterans to fresh-souled initiates, ceased their slaughter and turned toward their master. Even through the distance and chaos, Maximus could feel the shift, an invisible tide, a surge of divine will channeled through mortal bodies.
All across the battlefield, the Grey Knights placed one gauntleted hand upon the brother in front of them, forming a living chain, a brotherhood made manifest. The runes engraved upon their armor began to glow, first softly, then brighter and brighter until the entire host of the Emperor's Daemonhunters blazed like a constellation come to life.
Kaldor Draigo's voice boomed once more, filled with unyielding conviction.
"By His light and will, we stand united! By His word, we strike as one!"
Then came the chanting, low, rhythmic, and terrible in its holiness. The same incantation, repeated by ten thousand voices, echoed across the field. Words no mortal tongue should have known. Each syllable was a weapon, each utterance a blade of will sharpened upon the whetstone of absolute faith.
The psychic pressure grew unbearable.
Maximus stumbled as the very air thickened around him. His armor groaned under the weight of it, sparks of blue lightning arcing from his pauldrons. Even the daemons, ancient beings of the warp, began to scream as their forms unraveled beneath the radiance of so much focused purity.
He looked up.
The chain of brothers had become a conduit.
From the furthest ranks to the front line, the psychic power of every single Grey Knight flowed forward, channeled, and honed into one perfect point at the tip of Draigo's blade. The Titansword blazed with light beyond mortal comprehension, brighter than the heart of a star, its edge singing with holy fury.
Kaldor's eyes met Abeloth's.
The Mother of Madness, the Pale Queen of Chaos, reeled back, tendrils flailing as she shrieked in fury. The ground beneath her buckled, space itself bending around her. Yet Draigo did not falter.
With every fiber of his being, every ounce of psychic might, every drop of his soul forged in a thousand wars against the unholy, he bellowed the order that would be sung for millennia:
"NOW, BROTHERS! STRIKE!"
The Grey Knights roared as one.
A blinding wave of psychic light erupted from their formation, a torrent of condensed willpower and divine fury. The sound was like a supernova exploding, a scream of reality itself being torn open. The air ignited. The ground disintegrated. The force of it threw even Astartes from their feet.
And Abeloth, that great and terrible goddess, monster, abomination, was hit full-force.
She shrieked, her scream a distortion of existence itself. Her body convulsed, twisted, and shattered into a thousand writhing forms as the psychic storm consumed her. The wave hurled her backward, her tendrils clawing at the dirt, tearing apart reality itself as she was flung toward the gaping maw of the Warp portal.
With one final, earth-shaking roar, the combined power of the Grey Knights hurled Abeloth through the portal.
The rift screamed, folding inward upon itself, rippling with energy as her vast form was dragged back into the madness from which she had come. For a moment, it seemed as though the world itself sighed in relief.
But Draigo did not stop.
He raised the Titansword again, the blade now wreathed in the souls of a thousand slain daemons. His voice rose once more, a divine command echoing into the heavens.
"FORWARD!" he roared. "For the Emperor! For Mankind! For the Imperium! Into the abyss, brothers, and let none return until our task is done!"
And with that, he charged.
The Supreme Grand Master of the Grey Knights ran straight into the portal, into the Warp itself, his entire host following without hesitation. A silver tide of holy warriors stormed forward, blades drawn, hammers raised, each shouting oaths of vengeance and faith.
They cut down every daemon that stood before them, each strike a burst of sanctified power, each footstep burning the ground beneath. Their formation remained unbroken even as they crossed the threshold into the hell beyond, an army of light marching into damnation.
The Warp screamed as they entered. The very fabric of the Immaterium buckled beneath their fury.
Only four Grey Knights remained behind, the same squad that had fought beside Maximus.
The one who had been conversing with Maximus turned, his voice crackling through the vox.
"Our duty is here now, cousin. It is the Emperor's will we remain here.
Maximus nodded, watching as the last of the Grey Knight host vanished into the swirling portal, their silver light swallowed by the crimson storm.
He could still hear their war cries echoing faintly from within, fading, but unbroken.
And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Maximus allowed himself to hope.
Because somewhere, deep in the hellish depths of the Warp, Kaldor Draigo and the Grey Knights were making war upon Abeloth herself. And by the Emperor, they would not stop until she was defeated.
===
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