"Hng-aaaaah!"
A sharp, agonizing shriek rang out. It was a piercing howl that sounded entirely non-human. Inquisitor Stele felt as if his skull were being crushed into the jaws of a ten-thousand-ton hydraulic press. Terrifying force pressed inward from all directions, and the continuous groaning of bone rang out from his head. His limbs flailed wildly, his toes digging deep furrows into the ground. "What are you doing? I'm going to die! Let go! Let go!"
Stele abandoned all dignity, hoping this plea for mercy would evoke even a shred of hesitation from his opponent. But it was in vain. Not only did Ferrus, who was currently gripping his head, remain unmoved, but even the Blood Angels—who had just recovered from the shock—noticed something entirely wrong.
What mortal could survive the grip of a Primarch for this long? Never mind an Inquisitor without gene-seed enhancement; even a veteran Terminator's skull should have exploded into a mess of bloody pulp instantly under such force.
Realizing that pleading was useless, Stele suddenly stopped struggling and let out a sigh. In the next second, roaring psychic energy exploded outward like a cold tide! Thick, pale blue frost instantly glazed the ground with him at the center. Moisture in the air condensed into fine ice shards under the extreme psychic fluctuations, clattering against surrounding objects.
"Psychic power?" Everyone froze. Everyone knew Inquisitor Stele was a psyker, but this energy—the fluctuations carried a sickening, foul taint. Everyone realized at once: it was the taint of Chaos!
A massive spectral image of a bird's head emerged over Stele's head, instantly replacing his original features. A morbid, frenzied smile broke across his face as roaring flames erupted from his limbs—not ordinary red fire, but a deep, brilliant, ethereal blue warp-flame. Massive avian wings burst from his back, and his body expanded and twisted at a visible rate, covered in scales and mutated feathers.
A Great Daemon of Tzeentch revealed its true form before everyone's eyes.
Malphalarius, the Great Daemon, initiated his attack with zero frame delay. Dozens of twisted psychic spells shot toward Ferrus like venomous snakes! This wave of horrific sorcery was enough to annihilate an entire Space Marine squad along with their vehicles.
However, these forces capable of tearing reality apart hit Ferrus's iron-grey power armor and only created a few fleeting ripples, failing to leave even a scratch.
"Well, expected." Malphalarius hadn't anticipated this strike would repel a Primarch. Using the spell-casting as cover, his body turned into an ethereal psychic fluid, slipping through Ferrus's fingers like water. He retreated more than ten paces in an instant, stumbling as he reformed his shape.
"Wait, for real...?" The Great Daemon lowered its head, staring at the hideous hole piercing straight through its chest. Daemon-blood mixed with ghostly blue fire flowed from the wound, causing its massive body to shake uncontrollably.
Exactly. At the moment it shifted to escape, Ferrus reacted instantly. A lightning-fast punch had shattered six layers of overlapping psychic shields and punched a hole clean through the daemon's body.
This was a Primarch! Ferrus's expression remained flat as he flicked the blue blood from his arm. It was unexpected; this fellow was sturdier than an average Great Daemon. It seemed he was a named daemon of some status. But Ferrus didn't care. It was just an upgrade from a pebble to a speed bump. The essence hadn't changed.
He began to walk forward. Seeing the massive figure approaching, the Great Daemon began to sweat. Me, fight a Primarch? Will I win? This wasn't like previous scenarios. In the Warp, ghost stories about the birth of a "Second Cursed One" were already circulating, stories that could make daemons stop crying in the night. Especially after the Great Daemons sent to Terra failed to return and the rival's garden was burned, many daemons had become cautious. The days of reckless troublemaking were gone!
Think, brain, think! Malphalarius cursed. Wait, I have it! Its eyes lit up.
"Oh?" Ferrus stopped. In his vox-com, a report from an Iron Hands warrior came through, urgent to the point of cracking, backed by the sound of heavy bolter fire and explosions: "Gene-father! Massive Chaos forces from the Word Bearers have appeared on the surface! They are everywhere!"
"By the Emperor, this planet feels like it's been thoroughly corrupted by Chaos!"
Sensing Ferrus's hesitation, Malphalarius let out a sharp, eerie laugh. "How about now? You should worry about your orbital defense platform. Your troops might not hold against those Word Bearers. If the platform falls to me, your ships will plummet!"
"Foolish." A hint of mockery touched the corner of Ferrus's mouth. Do you have some misunderstanding of a Primarch's command capability? Did you really think I didn't have a contingency plan when I came down?
He tapped his vox twice. Within two breaths, he completed communication with the fleet in orbit. Almost simultaneously, the clouds were torn open. The main guns of the Battle Barge roared, and macro-cannon shells and melta torpedoes slammed into the ground like a meteor shower, hitting every Chaos assembly area with surgical precision. Even more striking was that Ferrus had predicted the enemy's advance and fired several extra torpedoes into three areas where no detection signals existed.
Earth-shattering explosions rang out, and the distant horizon was dyed crimson by soaring flames! The roaring Chaos forces were erased by the destructive fire before they could even scream, turning into free particles in the air.
"How is this possible?" The smile on Malphalarius's face froze. Feeling the lifesignatures tied to him being extinguished one after another, the daemon fell into a daze. Its long-prepared trump card had been torn to shreds by two casual sentences.
Ferrus, tired of waiting, moved. His massive body left a blurred afterimage, crossing the distance in a few steps. Malphalarius felt a flash before his eyes as the silver iron hand gripped his bird-like head once more.
"No—!" A shrill scream was cut short. With a violent boom, Ferrus's fingers tightened, and the skull was crushed. Viscous blue fire-blood splashed like rain, and the massive daemon corpse slammed into the ground, cracking the stone slabs atop the cathedral.
Immediately after, a twin-linked heavy bolter provided by Adam popped out from the mechanical rig on Ferrus's back. Tongues of fire erupted, and a dense rain of bolts swept the remaining daemon-flesh and blood into ash! Although Adam couldn't yet upgrade a demi-god like a Primarch into a reality bender, there were no such limits on anomalous weaponry! Malphalarius was wiped out, leaving not even a soul-fragment to return to the Warp.
Finishing this, Ferrus retracted the weapon and turned calmly. Only then did everyone dare to look toward Arkio at the bottom of the cathedral steps. The Blood Angel commander, who had been swatted away earlier, was now curled in a pile of rubble. Invisible Chaos energy poured into his body like snakes, twisting his flesh and soul together.
His power armor had burst apart. His once-white wings had twisted into bird wings covered in black scales. Sharp black claws broke through his skin, and countless strange tentacles writhed beneath his surface. Half of his face still held his former handsomeness, while the other half had mutated into something non-human. His clouded eyes were filled with extreme agony.
"No... no..." Broken whimpers escaped his throat. Crystalline tears fell from the corners of his eyes, shattering into tiny ice crystals on the cold stone. Chaos whispers roared in his head, trying to consume his last shred of sanity.
Mephiston walked forward, his power boots sounding clearly. He looked down at his former brother with no anger, only endless pity. As the Chief Librarian, he had to witness this tragedy. Arkio looked up with his one clear eye, first at Mephiston, and finally at Ferrus. He squeezed out words so soft they were almost inaudible.
"I... was wrong..."
As he spoke, the Chaos energy in him surged. Bone spikes burst from his spine, but he used his remaining will to restrain himself. His eyes held only a plea for release. "It really... hurts... please... end this."
Ferrus stopped before him and looked down at the Astartes destroyed by lies and Chaos. His eyes held a warrior's gravity. He nodded slightly and raised his warhammer. "In the name of the Emperor and Humanity, I grant you final peace."
The hammer fell. There was no thunderous roar, only a dull, quiet sound of shattering. Arkio's body went limp. The mutation stopped the moment life left him. The distortion on his face faded, restoring some of the dignity belonging to a Son of Sanguinius. Mephiston closed his eyes and gave a standard military salute. Around them, thirty Honor Guard members dropped their weapons and knelt, their eyes filled with shame and pain.
The wind carried the smell of smoke and blood. Under the snapping banners, Ferrus stowed his hammer and looked at the distant fires. "Clear the battlefield. Purge the remaining enemies."
Meanwhile, in the Warp.
A figure was walking gracefully. Infinite Chaos light flowed past him, but the violent psychic waves did not affect him. As Adam walked, a thought triggered his reality-warping ability, and soul-motes began to flow into his palm.
"Hm? Wait, what's this?" He stopped, his brow furrowing. He felt as if he had just swallowed something that didn't feel quite right. With a thought, he pressed his hand to his chest. Time twisted slightly, and an existence was peeled from his reality-strength. A sliver of pale gold light appeared in his hand.
Within the warm glow, Adam saw a sorrowful, pained face reflected in his pupils. "This is Sanguinius? What's going on?" Adam scratched his head. After a moment, he realized. Ferrus had settled everything over there. It was faster than he expected.
The rebellion of the false angel was indeed a Tzeentchian plot, but since the timeline had been moved up, changes had occurred. With Adam's presence, Tzeentch shouldn't have been so direct. Adam couldn't figure out what the Changer of Ways was planning, so he stayed on guard. He was very clear that the four entities in the Warp would not just sit and wait for him to grow.
He used his reality-warping power to "decontaminate" the soul fragment. Finding nothing wrong, he tucked it away. The light in his other hand grew stronger with this new piece. The pained, divine face in the light had calmed down, resting deep within the glow.
"Soon. Very soon." A smile touched Adam's lips.
The real Sanguinius was about to return.