On the other side of the battlefield, Fulgrim stopped in his tracks.
He looked up at the massive figure barreling toward him.
The xenos chieftain. Clad head-to-toe in heavy cybernetic armor studded with Diasporexs. Dual-wielding a massive energy axe and a greatsword. Coming at him like an absolute freight train.
A cold smirk tugged at the corners of Fulgrim's mouth. On his flawless face—now glowing with an eerie, sickly magenta light—the smile looked incredibly unsettling.
"Finally," he murmured.
The Blade of the Laer hummed softly in his grip, its pink-purple aura flaring even brighter.
Karu Atlee made his move. Propelled by his mechanized armor, his eight-meter-tall frame exploded forward with a speed that made absolutely no sense for his massive size. Every time his four heavy mechanical legs slammed down, they stamped deep craters into the steel deck.
His energy greataxe swept in with enough brute force to cleave a light tank in half, while his greatsword lunged from the opposite side, aimed dead-center at Fulgrim's chest.
This was Karu's ultimate trump card. In three hundred years of non-stop war, he had butchered countless heavy hitters with this exact combo. Alien warlords who thought they were tough, human commanders who didn't know any better—nobody had ever walked away from this strike in one piece.
Fulgrim just stood there. He didn't even bother shifting his stance.
He simply brought up the Blade of the Laer.
CLANG!
The deafening screech of metal on metal ripped through the corridor. The resulting shockwave actually sent the surrounding combatants stumbling.
Karu's pupils shrank to pinpricks.
His full-power swing—a blow meant to tear right through warship plating—was casually blocked by what looked like a flimsy curved sword.
No, not just blocked. Through his cybernetic sensors, Karu could feel the kinetic feedback from the blade. The pushback was actually stronger than his own strike.
"You..." His voice came out as a raspy, disbelieving wheeze.
Fulgrim looked up at him, a faint smile playing across his flawless features. It was a mocking grin, filled with the cruel amusement of a cat batting around a cornered mouse.
"Is that all the strength you have?" Fulgrim taunted. "I'm genuinely disappointed. What a waste of such a massive frame."
In the blink of an eye, the Primarch vanished.
Karu's raw combat instincts kicked in, and he frantically swung his greatsword to parry, but compared to Fulgrim, he was moving in slow motion.
The Blade of the Laer snaked in from an impossible angle, scraping right past the edge of the greatsword and throwing off a blinding shower of sparks against Karu's Diasporex armor.
SKREEECH!
The ear-piercing grind of metal echoed out as a deep, ugly gouge was carved into his plating.
Karu's heart skipped a beat, but he quickly realized the cut hadn't actually breached the hull of his suit. He let out a mental sigh of relief. This cybernetic war-plate was the absolute peak of his people's technology, capable of tanking a direct hit from a frigate's main gun. This freaky little sword was sharp, sure, but at the end of the day—
A split second later, Fulgrim blurred again.
This time, his speed was more than double what it had been a moment ago. Karu couldn't even process the motion. He just saw a streak of purple light trace an arc across his vision, right before an agonizing spike of pain exploded in his front-right leg.
"AGHHH!!!" An earth-shattering scream of agony tore through the corridor.
Karu looked down. Somehow, the Blade of the Laer had punched clean through his heavily reinforced armor, sinking deep into his mechanical leg. Thick green blood fountained from the wound.
The energy greataxe slipped from his manipulator claw, slamming into the deck with a heavy clatter.
Karu stared in absolute disbelief. He was the greatest warrior his species had ever produced—a chieftain who hadn't lost a single duel in three centuries. He had the brute strength to rip Astartes power armor to shreds, the speed to blitz any challenger, and combat skills forged in the fires of countless life-or-death brawls.
But this purple figure standing in front of him...
How is this possible... How... he muttered to himself, watching his own green blood pour down his leg and pool on the steel floor. I couldn't even last thirty seconds against one man?!
"Chieftain!"
Seeing their leader crippled, the augmented xenos brawling with the Emperor's Children let out a collective, grief-stricken roar. Abandoning their current targets, they charged madly toward Fulgrim in a desperate bid to save him.
But Julius Kaesoron, First Captain of the Emperor's Children, wasn't about to let that happen.
He carved into the mob of xenos like a bolt of purple lightning, sinking his power sword cleanly into the neck of a charging alien brute. The monster spasmed twice before crashing dead to the floor.
"Your fight is with us," Julius stated calmly, his tone radiating absolute, unquestionable authority.
Vespasian was right behind him. His bladework wasn't as flashy as Kaesoron's, but every single swing was brutally efficient and entirely devoid of wasted motion. Two heavily augmented xenos lunged at him simultaneously; he slipped past the first one's strike, took off the second one's mechanical arm with a backhand slash, and drove his blade straight through its chest without missing a beat.
Tarvitz fought in grim silence, his power sword a steady, lethal blur. A xenos tried to blindside him from the flank, but Saul didn't even bother looking. With a smooth horizontal sweep, he sent the creature's ugly head spinning into the air.
Even Lucius managed to stand out in the bloodbath. His fencing was arrogant and overly theatrical, but against a panicked mob of xenos, it got the job done. Three aliens jumped him at once. He struck a wildly flamboyant guard stance, and then... neatly skewered one of them right through the throat. The other two were quickly chopped to pieces by nearby Emperor's Children.
Lucius sheathed his sword, a smug, punchable grin spreading across his sneering face. Sure, getting the kill involved a little bit of luck, but a kill was a kill, and it was going on his tally.
In less than thirty seconds, the dozens of augmented xenos who had tried to play hero were nothing but dead meat littering the deck.
Watching his warriors get slaughtered, Karu Atlee let out a heart-wrenching roar: "NO!"
Pure, unadulterated fury burned in his chest. White-knuckling his remaining greatsword, he kicked off the floor with all four legs, throwing himself into a desperate, suicidal charge at Fulgrim.
"I'LL KILL YOU!!"
The smirk on Fulgrim's lips only grew wider. He didn't meet the charge head-on; he simply sidestepped.
This time, his speed was so absurd that Karu couldn't even track the blur. All the Chieftain felt was a flurry of razor-sharp edges slicing into his body, over and over again.
First strike, a gash ripped open the cyan armor on his left shoulder. Second strike, a deep trench was carved into the plating on his right ribs. Third strike, fourth strike, fifth strike...
Fulgrim became a whirlwind of purple afterimages dancing around the massive xenos. Every single flick of the Blade of the Laer left a fresh, bleeding cut in Karu's heavy mechanical armor.
None of the wounds were fatal. They were precision strikes—cutting just deep enough to breach the plating and score the flesh underneath, right before the next blade immediately followed.
Karu swung his energy greatsword like a madman, desperate to land a hit on that ghostly silhouette. But every single strike whiffed, slicing through empty air or harmlessly clipping through the afterimages Fulgrim left behind.
He was like a caged animal being slowly, meticulously teased to death by a hunter's knife.
"What's the matter?" Fulgrim's voice echoed from every direction at once, dripping with maddening delight. "Weren't you just talking about killing me?"
"Come on, then."
Fulgrim's movements were elegant and hyper-precise. He didn't look like he was fighting a war; he looked like he was sculpting a masterpiece. That deeply satisfied, utterly sadistic smile on his face sent a chill straight down Karu's spine.
"Did you know?" Fulgrim's voice was conversational, chatting casually as he continued to carve the Chieftain to pieces. "Back on Chemos, there's a specific art form. Sculpting."
"The artist uses a blade to carve exquisite patterns directly into the living stone."
"The sculpted stone doesn't die. It just experiences... infinite agony."
"And then, the artist simply steps back to admire its pain. To savor its struggles. To bask in that specific look in its eyes..."
"That radiant glow of absolute despair."
He abruptly slid to a halt just three meters in front of Karu, that flawless smile still plastered on his face. There wasn't a single drop of blood on his purple power armor. The only trace of the carnage was the slow drip of green gore falling from the tip of the Blade of the Laer.
Karu looked down at his own body and sucked in a sharp breath.
The Diasporex mechanical armor that had served him for three hundred years was utterly mangled. Dozens of cuts webbed across the plating, every single one of them oozing thick green blood.
None of the strikes were instantly fatal, but all of them combined...
He couldn't even feel his body anymore.
Every time he tried to move, dozens of open wounds flared with excruciating agony. It wasn't the sharp, clean pain of a severed limb; it was the agonizing, flaying burn of a thousand paper cuts carving away his flesh.
His limbs began to violently shake. His four heavy legs could barely hold his massive weight upright.
"What... what the hell are you...?" Karu rasped, his voice heavy with crushing despair.
He had genuinely believed he was the strongest warrior on this ship. He thought he could go toe-to-toe with anyone. But now he realized the truth. From the very beginning, he'd been using his own mortal pride to measure a being completely beyond his comprehension.
This purple blur standing in front of him wasn't human.
It was a god.
A god that had shattered all biological limits, towering high above all living things.
Karu's massive frame shuddered. The searing pain from his countless wounds made standing nearly impossible, but he planted his feet anyway. He kept himself upright on pure, stubborn willpower alone.
Because he was the Chieftain of his people.
Because he was Karu Atlee.
And because his warriors were still watching him.
Fulgrim stared up at him. A flicker of deep satisfaction flashed in his eyes, which were now glowing a toxic magenta.
"Me?" he mused, taking a slow step toward Karu and lazily twirling the Blade of the Laer in a full circle. "I am the very incarnation of perfection."
He stopped right in front of the chieftain, tilting his head up to look at the eight-meter-tall behemoth. Karu's shattered expression was reflected in the Primarch's eyes.
"And you..." Fulgrim raised his blade, resting the tip lightly against the underside of Karu's jaw. "...are just a stepping stone on my path to perfection."
Karu closed his eyes.
He was done fighting. The pain was so intense he couldn't even twitch a finger, let alone swing a sword. All he could do was wait for that cursed curved blade to punch right through his skull.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
The killing blow never came.
Karu opened his eyes. Fulgrim was still standing right there, but he hadn't thrust the blade home. He just kept the tip resting against Karu's chin, staring up with an expression of absolute... intoxication.
"Did you know?" Fulgrim whispered softly, almost talking to himself. "Your armor is impressively durable."
"Your combat skills are surprisingly adequate."
"And your courage is genuinely commendable."
He paused, the smile on his lips turning venomous. "But all of that, when placed before me, makes you nothing more than..."
He twisted his wrist just a fraction of an inch.
The tip of the Laer blade dragged across Karu's jawline, leaving a shallow, bleeding scratch on his neck. It wasn't deep. It didn't even nick an artery. But for Karu, right in this moment, the sting of that tiny cut felt infinitely sharper than any mortal wound.
"...an art piece." Fulgrim lowered the Blade of the Laer, admiring the fresh cut on Karu's neck with profound satisfaction.
"And a truly perfect piece of art requires time to be properly sculpted."
"So you..." He turned his back on the chieftain and began casually strolling down the corridor, his purple cape snapping sharply behind him. "...will serve as the perfect decorative centerpiece for my flawless campaign."
Karu stood frozen in place, his four legs violently shaking as green blood poured from the dozens of gashes covering his body.
He desperately wanted to chase after him. He wanted to scream. He wanted to burn the very last drop of his life force to butcher that arrogant demon.
But his body refused to obey.
His vision started to blur. Just before he finally collapsed, he caught one last blurry glimpse.
That purple silhouette had completely shattered the final defensive line of the core sector, making a beeline straight for the bridge.
–
Meanwhile, in an adjacent corridor.
Over three hundred silver-grey figures tagged along behind the warriors of the Second Company, silently slipping right through a massive gap in the core sector's defenses.
The passageways that should have been locked down by heavy Diasporex Alliance garrisons were complete ghost towns. Every single available soldier had been siphoned off to the Diasporex Gate in a desperate bid to stop the demonic meat grinder that was Fulgrim.
Solomon Demeter took point at the head of the formation, his power sword already drawn.
The corner of his mouth quirked into a subtle grin. The bridge was right in front of them.
Trailing closely behind him, Liam stared at that deep blue silhouette and couldn't help but monologue internally:
Solomon Demeter.
If you manage to secure First Blood on this objective, you'll literally be stunting right on Fulgrim's head.
And historically, that's exactly where your tragic fate begins.
But don't sweat it, man. I'm here this time.
I'm going to rewrite the destiny of you loyalists.
The Emperor's Imperium completely betrayed your loyal souls and your noble character.
But the Imperium ruled by our Imperial Faction will be the absolute greatest human empire this galaxy has ever seen. I promise you that.