Chapter 110
The Emperor finally understood.
'… there's another Godzilla in the Warp.'
From his knowledge of the Godzilla series, it was most likely Hell Godzilla—a monster he had only ever heard of by name, never with full data.
Could it be Singularity Godzilla?
No, the Emperor dismissed the thought. That was an anime-exclusive creature. If it was Singularity Godzilla, then the galaxy—no, the entire universe—would already be reset. That thing was a cheat among cheats.
Hell Godzilla alone was already absurd, powerful enough to kill gods.
And I was a god once, the Emperor thought grimly. He dared not imagine further.
For now, Cadia's situation was stabilizing. Against all odds, the tide was turning. Even the Emperor thought Cadia might actually survive this time.
Though the planet lacked many Space Marine reinforcements, it now had the Cursed Legion with their endless firepower, and the Imperial Fists—masters of defense. If they coordinated properly, Cadia could withstand Chaos Astartes for a while longer.
The real problem was the endless tide of daemons. The Four Gods had no love for Cadia. They would keep sending more and more abominations. Without the Blackstone pylons on the planet, the Ruinous Powers might have directly projected their influence, if not fragments of their own power, into realspace. Khorne's rage could have driven the Cadians into uncontrollable bloodlust, Nurgle could have unleashed plagues across the hives…
But back to the battle.
While Abaddon brooded in silence, Cawl and Trazyn worked frantically to repair Cadia's void shield generator. At last, with a final weld from one of Trazyn's Canoptek scarabs, the engine roared back to life.
The planetary void shields rose again, wrapping Cadia in protective energy. Even another shot from the Planet Killer would be useless now.
Abaddon exhaled slowly, frustration thick in his voice.
"…Go. Inform Be'lakor."
The Imperium had called in reinforcements. Should Chaos have none?
Be'lakor's power was enough to seize the Phalanx itself. Even Rogal Dorn, if he yet lived, would not be able to stand against the First Daemon Prince.
Be'lakor had once been the favored champion of all Four Gods. Like the angels of myth, he had been exalted. But his hunger for more power had doomed him, and so the Dark Gods cast him aside together.
Even abandoned, his strength dwarfed that of most daemons. Only the greatest among them could challenge him.
"The Phalanx was originally Be'lakor's obsession. Let him deal with it. If he fails, I will never ally with him again."
Abaddon turned his focus elsewhere.
"And what of the Eldar craftworld?"
"Warmaster, Lucius has not yet subdued it."
"Pathetic. Then send in the Keepers of Secrets."
"Yes, Warmaster."
Abaddon nodded. Slaanesh's power was the perfect weapon against the Eldar. Just a handful of greater daemons and their retinues could keep an entire craftworld tied up in battle for years.
"As for their other ships—they are nothing."
Abaddon's gaze shifted back toward Cadia's void shield. He clenched his clawed fist.
Too strong. Repaired too quickly. Something was wrong.
Then a voice echoed in his mind.
"So… it seems you're in trouble."
The voice was mechanical, cold. Abaddon recognized it immediately.
He scowled. "I will win."
"Will you?"
Before his eyes, a figure appeared—horns curling from its head, wings unfurling behind it, its entire body a fusion of daemon and machine. Its furnace-heart glowed with hellfire, and its frame resembled Necron constructs.
No one else could see it. Abaddon knew his vision had been tampered with.
The being was Vashtorr.
The newest demigod of the Warp. The Arkifane.
Unlike the Chaos Gods themselves, Vashtorr often acted directly. His designs were meticulous, his ambition grand. And unlike others, his power was aimed specifically at breaking the Necrons and the ancient Squats, whose technology rivaled the Dark Age of Humanity.
Most mortals don't even remember the Leagues of Votann, Abaddon thought. But Vashtorr's presence had already sown discord among their AI cores, throwing their fleets into chaos.
"So," Vashtorr asked, "do you have a way to break that shield?"
"…" Abaddon remained silent. He had no way to breach it.
"The shield is not the true problem. What matters… is Godzilla."
Abaddon's gaze hardened. "You know of him?"
Vashtorr's mechanical grin widened. "I have not fought him, but I have seen what he leaves behind. Even my daemon-engines have been destroyed by him."
He leaned closer. "But I can draw him away."
Abaddon raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"If Godzilla is removed from Cadia, your victory is possible."
"…If you can do it, then try."
Vashtorr stretched his clawed hand. He reached across the warp to interfere with Mechagodzilla. But in an instant, a crimson light repelled him.
"Oh…" Vashtorr's tone shifted. "Protected by divine power? Then direct interference is impossible."
He did not falter. Instead, he turned inward, scavenging from the warp, piecing together daemons and machinery. He had done this many times before. Countless daemons who failed their bargains with him had been fused into nightmarish engines of war—the dreaded Soul Grinders.
And now, he shaped something new. A beast as tall as a Titan. A warped imitation of Godzilla itself.
It roared as its form solidified, metallic plates shifting across its hide, eyes blazing red with daemonic fire.
Vashtorr smiled, pleased with his creation.
"…Perfect. What shall I call you?"
He thought for a moment.
"Catron. Yes… you will be Catron."
The beast's eyes flared. It opened its jaws wide and roared into the void.
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