Chapter 266: Abaddon, A Very Fine Collection Piece
Apart from the core forces under Abaddon's direct command, the warbands devoted to the various Chaos Gods began to ignore all orders and flee. One after another, their warships initiated their warp drives, attempting to jump to safety. When the first ship successfully escaped into the warp, the rest of the Black Legion's fleet could no longer hold back their panic. It was a chain reaction, like a morale break in a wargame.
This was also the moment a warship was at its most vulnerable. If they had concentrated their forces to fight back, the Imperium would have suffered immense losses to annihilate the entire Chaos fleet. But the forces of Chaos, each wanting someone else to cover their retreat, had no will left to fight. They were now nothing more than helpless targets. Only Abaddon's core fleet was still trying to mount a resistance, not because they didn't want to leave, but because their Warmaster was still on Cadia.
Abaddon, too, realized that the battle was lost. He cursed the foolishness of the deserters. With a small, coordinated sacrifice, the majority of the fleet could have withdrawn successfully. This single loss had turned centuries of his efforts into dust. He knew how difficult it would be to organize and assemble such a fleet again. Most importantly, this crushing defeat would cause him to lose the trust of the other Chaos warbands and factions.
The Null-Field had temporarily stripped him of the blessings of the Chaos Gods. He could now only rely on the physical prowess of his superhuman body. Although the Zerg and Protoss that had blocked his path were gone, and he could certainly destroy Kasr Kraf now, what was the point? All he could do was lead his remaining forces off Cadia and preserve as much strength as possible. He would have to plan for the long term. As long as he was alive, he would have the chance to organize another crusade.
"Rally the troops! We are returning to the Vengeful Spirit! We are leaving Cadia!"
An irrepressible bitterness was evident in Abaddon's voice. He looked at the forces still gathered around him, a pang of grief in his heart. Even these Black Legion veterans, the ones truly loyal to him, had suffered severe casualties. The Null-Field prevented him from even teleporting directly back to his flagship. He knew that if he delayed any longer, he would be completely surrounded by the Imperium.
Several gunships landed beside him as ordered, and he and his Long War veterans boarded. Looking at the Chaos forces still entangled with Imperial troops and unable to disengage, Abaddon abandoned them without hesitation to buy himself time. This included the two Legions of Vulcanum Titans. Transporting Titans was far more complicated than one might think. Abaddon desperately wanted to take them with him, but it was no longer possible.
The gunships lifted off, carrying Abaddon back towards the Vengeful Spirit.
However, there was someone who did not wish to see him leave. Aboard the gunship, Abaddon suddenly noticed that their speed was decreasing. When he opened the cockpit door to berate the pilot, he found that the pilot was a Necron.
"Ah, I've been discovered. Lord Trazyn, please complete your collection quickly. I am eager to return to my experiments. I was hoping to bring them directly to your flagship."
"Sannet, why are you always in such a hurry?" a voice came from behind Abaddon. "You have been with me for so long, and yet you still cannot appreciate the joy of collecting?"
Hearing the voice, Abaddon's senses screamed with alarm. How was this possible?! He swung his daemon sword, Drach'nyen, at the empty air, relying on his powerful instincts, but found that the space around him had completely frozen.
Abaddon realized his mind could still move freely, but his body was suppressed, his movements slowed to a crawl. And while he could still move, albeit with excruciating slowness, the Long War veterans who had boarded with him were completely motionless. The Necron holding the staff flickered in and out of existence.
Abaddon could only watch as the being casually walked up to him.
"The daemon sword Drach'nyen is indeed a remarkable thing," the Necron mused. "Its threat to humanity is astonishing. But I am not human. You would have been better off using your power claw. Not that it would have made a difference."
As a daemon born from humanity's first act of murder, Drach'nyen had a special effectiveness against humans. And the being who had appeared out of nowhere was Trazyn the Infinite.
Using the Mantle of Dust, an artifact woven from the shards of time itself, he had already arranged for Abaddon's capture. The Necron on Cadia was never just a single body; the one assisting Cawl was merely one of his many duplicates. This time, regardless of whether Lucan honored their agreement, he had already come out ahead.
Using his Tesseract Labyrinths, Trazyn had been secretly capturing many fine things. His haul included specimens of all the smaller Zerg strains. He had wanted to grab an Ultralisk or a Brood Lord, but it was too difficult to get one from amidst the Swarm. He had also thought of capturing a Protoss for study, but the heavily wounded ones would warp back to the Spear of Adun before death, and they always moved in groups. He had to settle for collecting a Probe and "borrowing" a Pylon.
What interested Trazyn the most was the DOOM Slayer, but after witnessing his combat prowess, he had given up on that idea. Even if he couldn't capture him, the recording of his battle with Khorne would be a historic artifact in itself. Trazyn had used another of his artifacts, the Prismatic Galleries, to record the Slayer's appearance and his entire battle into Khorne's domain. He had also recorded many other epic, historic moments: the battle between Chaos, the Zerg, and the Protoss, and the moment Ferrus Manus killed Fulgrim. Trazyn felt he could admire each of these holographic histories for a very long time. Nothing excited him more.
When Trazyn was capturing the Zerg, however, Kerrigan had notified Lucan. Every Zerg was part of her psionic network, and Lucan could also sense the status of his Probes and SCVs. He had not stopped Trazyn. If he wanted to steal a few things, let him. Perhaps, Lucan thought, he could use this as an opportunity to visit Trazyn's museum one day. It was filled with many wonderful things.
And now, Trazyn was capturing his last, most priceless collectible: the Chaos Warmaster, Abaddon.
Trazyn tapped the daemon sword with his finger. Abaddon had never unleashed the true power of this weapon. His acquisition of it had been deliberately guided, most likely by the Emperor himself. Abaddon's existence was like that of a new jailer for the daemon within the blade. Better for it to be wielded by a destined failure like Abaddon than for it to fall into the hands of another daemon.
Trazyn then playfully stroked Abaddon's topknot. This act of treating him like a toy was a profound humiliation for the Warmaster.
"Do you feel the humiliation?" Trazyn asked. "Anger will not grant you any advantage against me. If you still possessed the blessings of those warp entities, you might have had the strength to resist. But with your physical body alone... even a human Primarch could not break free, let alone you."
His collection already contained a "loyal" clone of Fulgrim. Even as a clone, it was a being far beyond what Abaddon could compare to.
The space around them began to contract. The dozen Long War veterans and Abaddon himself were compressed into Trazyn's hand. As a perfect cube formed, Trazyn held a very satisfactory new piece for his collection.
"Chaos Warmaster, the Despoiler, the Chosen of the Four," Trazyn said to the cube. "Rest assured, your historical significance will grant you a very prominent place in my museum! Let us go, Sannet. It is time to return."
With Trazyn's departure, the gunship carrying Abaddon plummeted towards the ground. When his other Chosen went to the crash site to search for him, their Warmaster was gone without a trace. No matter what methods they tried, they could not contact him. It was as if he had simply vanished.
Seeing the Imperial fleet drawing ever closer, the Black Legion aboard the Vengeful Spirit had no choice but to take the Blackstone Fortress and retreat into the warp.
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