=== Kharath ===
Kharath's laughter rolled like thunder across the desecrated plains of Mortis. The sound was not born of mirth, but of triumph, a deep, resonant echo that rippled through the bloodied air, warping the screams of battle into a symphony of chaos. His taloned hands remained extended over the ritual circle, the air around him shimmering with warp-fire and lightning. The runes carved into the ground pulsed erratically, fed by the dying energies of the planet itself.
But the ritual's heartbeat had slowed. Its purpose, its grand design, was fulfilled. The veil had been torn, and Abeloth had ascended beyond it. The warp now throbbed with her presence, an unbound, unimaginable hunger that even Kharath, blessed of Tzeentch, could scarcely comprehend.
He smiled beneath his jagged helm of horns.
"The plan is complete," he murmured, his eyes glimmering with kaleidoscopic fire. "And it couldn't have gone more… perfectly."
He lifted his gaze from the ritual circle to the battlefield below. The world had become a graveyard, Imperial war machines burning beside shattered Republic walkers, their wreckage sprawled across the blasted plain. Astartes and clone troopers fought side by side in desperate, defiant unity against the hordes of daemons that still poured from the portals.
The Grey Knights were gone, vanished into the warp's heart. The daemonic host was now unbound, free to slaughter or devour as they pleased.
But none of it mattered.
The Chaos Sorcerer's work was done. Abeloth had entered the realm of gods and monsters, and the skein of fate had been irreversibly altered.
He raised his clawed hand, staring at the crimson ichor that dripped from his talons. With a low chuckle, he turned his attention skyward, his gaze piercing the storm clouds until it found the burning silhouette of a Republic cruiser hovering above the carnage.
Through the vessel's hull, his mind brushed against the flickering ember of Palpatine.
"Ah… my apprentice."
A cruel smile split his monstrous visage.
His voice, though spoken in no tongue of men, wormed its way into the Chancellor's mind like silk and venom.
"The galaxy is yours now. Rule it as you see fit. The board is set, the pieces scattered. All that remains… is to sweep it clean."
He could feel Palpatine's faint tremor of awe and understanding, the dawning realization that his master was departing this plane.
"I shall give you a parting gift… a final turn of the wheel."
Kharath lifted his staff befote driving it deep into the cracked earth. The impact sent a tremor through reality itself. The runes of the ritual circle ignited once more, but this time with a baleful, unstable radiance. The ground heaved as veins of warp-lightning crawled outward from the staff, embedding themselves into the fabric of the planet.
The three portals flared in unison. Their edges became solid, anchored, refusing to collapse.
He had fixed them.
The wounds in reality would remain open until something of unimaginable power sealed them again.
He looked up once more, the horizon a tapestry of flame and ruin. A dozen suns burned above, bleeding into the void as the planet cracked under the strain.
"Such beauty," Kharath mused softly, spreading his vast, tattered wings. "Such potential. May chaos take the world! May it never fade from this place."
He turned from the battlefield, the sounds of war falling away like whispers at the edge of hearing. His towering form began to stride toward one of the lesser portals, a swirling gate of blue and violet that pulsed like a heartbeat.
He paused only once, looking over his shoulder at the chaos he had wrought, at the galaxy on the brink, the empires trembling, the gods stirring.
And then, with a single beat of his monstrous wings, he stepped into the warp.
The last echo of his voice lingered in the winds of Mortis, a whisper carried across the dying world.
"The game is yours now, my apprentice.
Let it burn for all i care."
=== Dooku ===
Count Dooku knelt silently beside Nira's unconscious form, the distant roar of battle echoing faintly through the shattered landscape.
She lay motionless upon a makeshift stretcher, her chest rising shallowly, her face whiter than it usually was. The massive Terminator guard stood encircling her, their storm bolters raised and sensors sweeping for any hint of threat. Their adamantine bulk looked almost serene in their stillness, though Dooku could feel the simmering storm of readiness beneath their cold, expressionless helms.
He exhaled slowly, exhaustion weighing heavy on his heart. The Force trembled violently all around him, like a living thing in agony. The balance was shattered, torn asunder by the events unfolding near the portals. Abeloth had been unleashed. The Grey Knights had vanished into the warp. And now… even the planet itself seemed to scream.
He looked down at Nira. "You have given everything." He thought solemnly. "And yet the galaxy demands more."
A soft light bloomed behind him. It was pure, white, and impossibly still. Dooku turned slowly, his instincts sharp despite his fatigue.
And there stood the Daughter.
Her form was radiant, yet diminished. Her once-glorious hair shimmered faintly, edges frayed like torn silk. Her eyes, once serene and wise, now held something Dooku had never thought to see in such a being, dread, and behind it, a quiet acceptance.
"Dooku," she said softly, her voice carrying through the still air like a prayer.
Dooku said nothing at first. His gaze flicked to the three portals on the other side of the battlefield.
"I can feel it," he said finally, his voice low and rough. "The Warp Portals… they are anchored."
She nodded slowly, each motion weighted by grief. "The portals will not close," she said. "Not unless… they are sealed with a sacrifice."
Her hand rose, and in it appeared a weapon that made Dooku recoil instinctively.
The Dagger of Mortis.
Its blackened blade drank the light around it, shadows writhing along its edge. The metal seemed alive, whispering to him in a dozen tongues. It was ancient, profane, yet divine.
The Count's jaw clenched. He took a single step back, eyes narrowing at the sight of the cursed relic. "That weapon… it is warped by foul magic. I will not touch it."
"You must." Her tone was gentle, but firm. "It is the only way."
Dooku's expression hardened. "You ask me to bear the tool of your family's destruction? I will not take part in that cycle."
The Daughter's luminous eyes softened, and for a moment, Dooku could almost see the sorrow behind her grace. "The cycle is already broken," she whispered. "My father is gone. My brother… as well. And the balance has been destroyed. And mother has departed."
She stepped closer, extending the dagger once more. Its edge hummed softly, resonating with something deep within the Force and Warp, as though the universe itself awaited his decision.
"If I fall," she continued, her voice trembling slightly, "then the Force will be free. Unconstrained. No longer bound by my family's eternal struggle. It will flow as raw unshaped power. It will give you what you need to close the rifts."
For a moment, the two simply stood there, their gazes locked across the dying light of a collapsing world.
Dooku's thoughts churned. He could feel the imbalance, the corruption spreading outward from the portals like infection through the veins of the galaxy.
If the Daughter was right, then the galaxy stood on the edge of annihilation. The daemonic tide would never stop.
And yet… to take that dagger… to use it… would mean crossing a threshold even he feared.
His hand trembled as he stared at the weapon. "I am not ready to bear such a burden," he said, voice barely above a whisper.
Her expression softened further, almost maternal. "None are," she replied. "That is why it must be you."
The words struck him harder than he expected. For a moment, Dooku's pride faltered. His veneer of control, that perfect calm he had worn since his days as a Jedi, cracked beneath the weight of destiny.
He looked down at Nira's still form, then back at the Daughter.
"My death will restore freedom to the Force. And the Jedi… will find strength unlike any before." She said softly.
She stepped closer, until the dagger hovered between them.
"Call the others," she said finally. "The Jedi Masters. They must take advantage of the moment I die to close to portals."
Dooku's throat tightened. He looked down at the blade again, at the black flame that seemed to breathe from it, and for the first time in his long, disciplined life, he shuddered.
Then, slowly, he reached for his commlink.
The Daughter's hand lingered near his.
"If we do not act… there will be nothing left to save."
Her illumination flaired slightly, casting a gentle, golden light over the unconscious Nira and her armored guardians.
And Dooku, his composure fraying, raised the commlink to his lips.
"Masters…" he whispered, voice heavy with dread. "Come to me. Now."
=== Sebastian ===
Sebastian advanced toward the oncoming horde of Daemons, each step heavy with divine purpose.
The Darksaber in his hand burned with black fire, newly blessed by Him of Holy Terra. Its jagged lightning crackled and danced along the obsidian blade, casting flickering shadows across the ruined ground, but Sebastian paid it no mind. His focus was absolute.
Before him, two Bloodthirsters swept aside lesser Daemons like chaff, their roars shaking the battlefield. The air itself trembled beneath their fury as they charged to meet this new Champion of Mankind.
Sebastian stopped and spread his arms wide, his storm shield gleaming in the firelight.
"Come!" he bellowed, his vox-grille distorting the words into something inhuman. "Face your death!"
Then he moved.
His jump pack roared to life, propelling him forward like a meteor. He dove beneath one Bloodthirster's descending axe, twisting as he passed, and brought the Darksaber screaming around in a black arc. The blade bit through the Daemon's leg at the knee, severing it cleanly. The Greater Daemon howled as it toppled, molten ichor gouting from the wound.
Its twin came on in a rage. One colossal axe fell toward Sebastian with the weight of a collapsing mountain, only to meet the unyielding wall of his reforged storm shield. The weapon glanced off with a thunderclap, sparks scattering like stars.
Sebastian surged upward, Darksaber rising with him. He sheared the Bloodthirster's hand clean off at the wrist, then ignited his jump pack again, dragging the burning blade along the Daemon's arm as he ascended. His momentum carried him high above its horned head, and then he fell like a hammer of the Emperor.
He came crashing down upon the first crippled Bloodthirster, aiming to drive the Darksaber straight through its skull. The beast twisted at the last instant; the blade tore through its cheek, carving out its left eye instead. Sebastian snarled and adjusted, plunging the weapon deep into its neck. The creature shrieked, the sound shaking the heavens.
"Be silent!" Sebastian roared, deactivating the blade and smashing his storm shield into its face. The impact cracked one of the Daemon's horns and sent it sprawling.
The second Bloodthirster, blinded by fury, swung its axe in a murderous arc. The blow missed Sebastian and cleaved into its fallen kin, hacking off the other's arm. It bellowed in rage before being kicked aside its counterpart, sent crashing into the rubble as it ripped its axe from its kins torso.
Sebastian landed heavily, his Darksaber snapping back to life, its black flame rising higher. He set the weapon above the rim of his shield and waited, his stance steady as stone.
The second Bloodthirster snarled and charged.
Sebastian sprinted to meet it, but at the last second veered right, his jump pack flaring. The axe missed him by inches, carving a trench into the earth. A second burst of his jump pack sent him arcing through the smoke toward the fallen Bloodthirster struggling to rise.
He came down like a comet, wings of holy fire erupting behind him.
The impact slammed the Daemon flat on its back. Before it could even scream, Sebastian was already upon it, the Darksaber driving down through its other eye and into its skull. The eight-foot blade buried itself to the hilt, its black fire consuming the creature from within.
The Daemon convulsed violently, but Sebastian, fueled by the Emperor's will, gripped one of its horns and held it down. The second Bloodthirster thundered toward him, but it was too late.
With one final shove, Sebastian drove the blade deeper, extinguishing the beast's life in a burst of holy fire. Then, with a grunt, he tore his arm free, wrenched the horn from its skull, and spun to face the other.
With a mighty heave, he hurled the horn. The Bloodthirster swung its axe contemptuously, knocking the projectile aside with a roar that shook the battlefield.
Sebastian launched himself forward in the same instant, his jump pack igniting with a thunderous roar, a comet of holy fire meeting a storm of rage and brass.
The Bloodthirster swung. A mountain of an axe tore through the air, too slow.
Sebastian was already gone.
He shot past its flank in a blur of black, the Darksaber carving a diagonal line across its thigh as he passed. Flesh like molten iron hissed and split apart. The daemon bellowed, spinning with fury, only for Sebastian to already be on its shoulder, his boots slamming down with explosive force.
He drove the blade down, once, twice, thrice, each strike punctuated by the roar of his jump pack and the crackle of burning lightning. The daemon swung wildly, shrieking in rage as its own blood sizzled against the ground like acid rain.
Sebastian leapt away, twisting midair, landing behind the beast.
He surged forward again. The Darksaber slashed across the daemon's back, cleaving through muscle and spine. Before it could turn, he was already on its arm, sprinting up its limb as if running along the ramparts of a fortress.
"By His Light," he snarled, and brought the blade down, severing the Bloodthirster's forearm at the elbow. The beast roared and swung its remaining axe at him in blind fury.
Sebastian ducked beneath the swing, igniting his jump pack to propel himself upward again. He rose like an angel of vengeance, then came down like a meteor, slamming onto the daemon's skull.
The Darksaber plunged through bone and brass and fire. The Bloodthirster staggered, clawing at him, shrieking its hate. Sebastian twisted the blade, then deactivated it, and drove his storm-shield into the daemon's eye socket with all his strength.
Bone cracked. Blood and fire burst forth.
He reactivated the Darksaber, its black flame roaring to life inside the daemon's skull.
The Bloodthirster's scream was endless. It clawed at its head, stumbling backward, wings flailing madly as it fell to one knee.
Sebastian tore the blade free, leapt, and spun, a blur of motion, a flash of darkness.
He landed behind the creature.
For a heartbeat, nothing moved.
Then the Bloodthirster's head slid from its shoulders, falling into the dirt with a sound like a collapsing monument.
Sebastian rose slowly, turning to face the towering corpse. His armor dripped with molten ichor, steam rising from every plate. The Darksaber burned low in his hand.
He looked to the sky, voice low, steady, and resolute.
"Thus fall the servants of Chaos."
And then he strode onward, into the inferno, alone, unbroken, and burning with the Emperor's wrath.
===
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