Though the Iron Man's cage suppressed the chaotic energies within An'ggrath, it could not bind the raw strength of his physical form.
The cell itself was indestructible, yet it was wrought with numerous gaps. These apertures had been deliberately integrated by Axion to ensure that if a captive resisted, their regenerating limbs could be instantly severed. However, the Custodes who took custody of the cells had inadvertently overlooked this structural detail.
For An'ggrath's newly regenerated, serpentine tail, a distance of barely half a meter between the two cages was a negligible span to cross.
Unlike An'ggrath, Angron's sanity wavered in erratic, volatile cycles. Whenever fury flooded his shattered mind, he would helplessly call upon the ruinous powers bestowed upon him by Khorne. Yet the continuous siphoning from the cage had left the Daemon Primarch's mangled body deeply weakened.
Forming a vigilant perimeter, the Custodian Guards warily scanned their surroundings, but subconsciously dismissed the threat posed by prisoners already securely bound.
Suddenly, An'ggrath's immensely powerful tail whipped out from the gaps of his cage. It snaked into Angron's cell and wrapped violently around the Primarch's head.
"Roar!"
Ambushed, Angron bellowed in sheer rage, but stripped of his limbs, he possessed no means to resist.
Splat!
With a ferocious, crushing contraction of the daemon's tail, the colossal pressure instantly caved in Angron's skull, entirely unshielded by the warp energies that normally sustained him. Drawn by the inexorable pull of Khorne, Angron's soul plunged back into the Immaterium and vanished.
The adjacent Custodians reacted with lightning speed. One warrior drew his guardian spear, bringing the blade down to sever An'ggrath's tail. Yet with a sudden, violent lash, An'ggrath swung his massive appendage, striking back at the Custodian.
The Custodian's reflexes were peerless; he adjusted instantly, turning his weapon to deliver a vertical, cleaving blow. But at the exact moment the blade fell, An'ggrath contorted his massive neck in a sickeningly twisted angle, thrusting his own head directly into the path of the weapon.
"No!" Trajann's roared command echoed from the front of the convoy.
Before the strike could be averted, An'ggrath's thick tail traced a brutal arc, slamming like a whip into the flat of the descending blade and forcing it true.
Thud.
The daemon's head tumbled to the floor.
Deprived of the foul sorcery of the Warp, An'ggrath's flesh lacked its legendary, unyielding resilience. The daemon knew his own biology perfectly; ordinary wounds were far from fatal. To escape a fate of eternal incarceration, death and subsequent rebirth in the Warp was the only true path.
The severed daemonic head lay on the deck, its eyes wide open. Within that dying gaze flickered a mocking, derisive gleam, a final taunt at the failure of the Emperor's bodyguards.
As a localized ripple of warp energy fluctuated through the air, the spectral silhouette of the daemon vanished instantly amidst the laughter of dark gods, drawn back to the realm of Khorne.
Trajann stood atop the transport vehicle, staring in absolute silence at the two cages where the remains were dissolving into ash. Beside him, the Custodian holding the guardian spear froze in place. Even through the cold ceramite of his helm, his sheer bewilderment was palpable.
The Imperium had captured many daemons in its long history, but those operations bore no resemblance to the cold efficiency of the Iron Man. The two Daemon Primarchs and two Greater Daemons secured within the Dark Cells had only been subdued after the Imperium paid a staggering toll in blood, utilizing legions of psykers to grind them down.
The Iron Man's method of capture defied anything the Imperium could comprehend. An'ggrath and Angron had been utterly suppressed in direct combat and caged within moments.
Trajann did not understand the unique metaphysics of the Iron Man's technology. He had deeply feared that unlocking the cages to transfer the prisoners into traditional Imperial stasis fields might trigger an escape. After all, he had heard Axion inform Guilliman that the probability of an unforeseen failure was as high as 37.6%.
To avert such a disaster, Trajann had intended to escort them deep into the subterranean vaults of Terra before attempting a transfer. Yet he had never anticipated that An'ggrath would use such a brutal stratagem to orchestrate a double escape.
This catastrophic failure filled Trajann with a bitter shame so profound he contemplated resigning his mantle as Captain-General, contemplating self-exile into the deepest, pitch-black hollows of the Dark Cells as a solitary warden.
In his grand office within the Council of Mundane Affairs, Roboute Guilliman stood frozen in utter shock, having just severed the vox-link with Trajann.
"Lord Guilliman."
A voice suddenly resonated from across the chamber. A figure shrouded in a coarse, black-hooded robe materialized from behind one of the massive stone pillars supporting the ceiling.
Axion, controlling his mechanical chassis, immediately analyzed the dissipating psychic residue clinging to the air around the intruder. Simultaneously, two Bladeguard Veterans sprang forward, placing themselves protectively before the Lord Regent.
"Identity match confirmed: Ersen. Member of the Word Bearers Legion. All subsequent data lost following transfer to Custodes custody."
The simple robe offered no resistance to Axion's advanced scanning arrays. Hearing the Iron Man declare his identity, the figure pulled back his hood, revealing a face etched with countless geometric brands and ritualistic tattoos.
The two Bladeguard Veterans exchanged tense, heavily armored glances upon hearing Axion's assessment.
A Word Bearer?!
Clad in his somber robes, Ersen took two measured steps forward, inclining his head in a deep bow to Guilliman.
"Guided by the divine will and light of the Emperor, I have come to fulfill my destiny, and to wash away the sins of my Primarch."
Thud!
The heavy doors of Guilliman's office were violently thrown open. A squad of Custodian Guards strode into the room, weapons bared.
"Sinner! You dare challenge the authority of the Master of Mankind by breaking out of the holy Dark Cells? In the Emperor's name, we hunt you. His gaze is upon us, and your every move is laid bare. Return to your cell and repent for your transgressions; it is the final mercy your loyalty will be afforded."
The Custodians swiftly encircled the robed figure. Yet Ersen made no move to resist. Through the coarse fabric of his garments, it was obvious he bore no armor, weapons, or wargear.
"No mortal escapes the Dark Cells by their own hand," Ersen spoke calmly from the center of the kill-zone. His gaze drifted past the points of the guardian spears, locking onto Axion with absolute, unwavering conviction. "I merely waited in the dark, adhering to the Emperor's guidance, until He led me to my preordained destiny."
"Lord Guilliman, and honored guardians of the Throne," Ersen's voice was deep, steady, and resonant with an undeniable fervor. "I implore you to grant me a private audience with the Iron Man. The Emperor's intent burns bright within my soul. I know my purpose is inextricably bound to his machine. This is the Emperor's grace manifest, and the beginning of my absolution."
Guilliman's brow furrowed, his eyes clouded with suspicion and deep-seated caution. He looked from Ersen to Axion, calculating the massive risks. Ersen belonged to the Word Bearers, the very Legion that had ignited the fires of the Horus Heresy. Guilliman could not afford to be reckless, especially given the unknown, esoteric means by which this traitor had breached the most secure prison on Holy Terra.
He was not merely a son of a treacherous gene-sire; he was a fugitive of the highest order. Yet the profound, unshakeable devotion in Ersen's voice gave the Primarch pause.
Axion's optical sensors flickered with an eerie, sapphire luminescence as he appraised the legionary, processing a massive stream of complex data.
The Custodians, however, had no intention of delaying for political considerations. The leading Custodian stepped forward, his power spear leveling directly at Ersen's throat. The power blade crackled with lethal energy, humming softly as it ionized the air.
When the warrior spoke, his voice boomed through his helm's vocal modulators, filling the chamber with a heavy, authoritarian weight.
"Do not think a few hollow prayers to the Emperor can obscure the eternal damnation of your past sins. You stem from a traitor's lineage. Your brothers brought fire, ruin, and betrayal to every corner of this Imperium. Now you appear here through foul sorcery, demanding private counsel with an Iron Man? Speak plainly, traitor, what insidious plot do you harbor in the dark?"
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