The scorching defensive lasers crossed the violet Void Shield and shot fiercely into the battlefield.
The Tyrant's body wailed as the colossal beast collapsed under the Angel Keep's most formidable defensive weapon.
This defensive laser technology dated back ten thousand years, an ancient weapon designed under the personal command of a Primarch during the Great Crusade era. It was said that a forgotten Primarch had even assisted the Archangel in its creation.
These ancient lasers required a long time to charge before each shot, but every blast could destroy a Tyranids Titan or a Tyranids ship in orbit.
The Tyranids grew even more enraged, roaring as they charged towards the Angel Keep, protected by its violet Void Shield.
Countless attacks rippled across the Void Shield, like starlight in broad daylight.
The defenders within the Angel Keep retaliated with Icarus Lasers, autocannons, and heavy bolters.
The crunch of chitinous carapaces and the wails of dying xenos intertwined, forming a symphony of death.
Their corrosive pus splattered on the desert, forming pale bubbles before either sinking into the sand or being swallowed by the scattered Water of Thirst nearby.
The Blood Angels warriors unleashed their firepower from atop the city walls, a full ten thousand Astartes guarding the Archangel's former sanctuary.
Only a small portion of the Tyranids managed to pass through the artillery barrage, most of them heavily armored Executioners.
They withstood the continuous barrage of firepower from the Blood Angels and the mortals, charging to the front lines.
Dante stood firm amidst the battle lines, his jump pack propelling him upwards. The burning promethium generated vector thrust, allowing him to descend from the sky, leaping towards the Executioners charging at the Void Shield.
His ancient meltagun roared, instantly tearing through the chitinous carapace of an Executioner.
The power axe in his other hand instantly cleaved into the carapace of another Executioner attempting to pounce on him.
The Saint Blood Guard followed closely, their power swords, power axes, and meltaguns roaring as they joined Dante in clearing the Tyranids beasts attempting to breach the Void Shield.
A roar of blood-soaked fury erupted as Captain Finnie led the Crimson Angels out of the battle lines. The satisfied Bloodthirst granted them immense power, especially those who had consumed Sanguinius' blood; they fought like wild beasts.
Finnie voluntarily took on the most dangerous fight on Baal, just as the Blood Knight had voluntarily gone to the most perilous Baal.
But Finnie hadn't expected Dante to fight alongside him.
Finnie's power sword tore through a Hormagaunt attempting to pounce on him. He led the Crimson Angels, cooperating with Dante, the Saint Blood Guard, and the firepower from the city walls, to swiftly clear the xenos in front of the Void Shield.
Dante nodded slightly to him, then ignited his jump pack and leaped back onto the city walls.
Blood thralls quickly came forward to replenish the fuel consumed by his jump pack.
Baal's gravity was extremely strong, causing jump pack fuel to deplete quickly.
Just then,
A scorching laser shot into the sky, then a burning xeno bio-ship streaked across Baal's sky like a meteor, plummeting into the desert.
The mortals and Astartes within the Angel Keep let out a simultaneous, excited war cry.
This had happened many times before; each time a bio-Titan or bio-ship fell, the guards within the city walls would let out an exhilarating cheer.
The number of giant beasts on the battlefield gradually decreased. The Tyranids once again changed tactics.
The hive mind's adaptability to the battlefield far surpassed that of humans. In previous engagements, the Tyranids had already attempted several tactics.
Dante had to keep pace with the hive mind, quickly adjusting to suitable counter-tactics.
This made Dante feel exhausted. Perhaps only a Primarch could bear such a responsibility. Dante couldn't help but think of Alexander and Mephiston, who were currently underground.
However, Dante knew he couldn't place all his hope on that. He had to hold the Void Shield.
The Void Shield was the key to everything. As long as the Void Shield existed, the Tyranids would gradually be blunted, gradually shattered, and ultimately defeated by hunger.
They must hold the Void Shield. The longer the Void Shield stood, the greater their chances of victory.
"Ah!!!!" A wail rang out beside Dante.
Dante saw Corbulo suddenly fall to the ground, clutching his head and wailing.
The Blood Priest, with his powerful psychic and prophetic abilities, seemed to have suffered a massive shock, his entire body trembling.
Dante slowly turned his head. He felt his mind was unclear, his attention fragmented, and he even felt his soul had forgotten how to breathe. A strong sense of suffocation pressed on his lungs, and the dizzying sensation of hypoxia struck his brain.
Not just him, almost all the Blood Angels standing on the city walls let out wails.
"What new Tyranid evil is this?!" Captain Finnie asked, almost wailing.
"No!" Corbulo roared in a low, trembling voice, "This is not Tyranids!"
"This is something more evil... It's here, it's the Old Night! The Old Night has returned..."
The mortals fell into convulsions, the Space Marines endured unprecedented pain, the Adeptus Astartes wailed and roared, and even the Void Shield inexplicably swayed.
Dante staggered, leaning against the city wall. He almost felt the entire world was rising and falling, matter no longer seemed solid, and reality became untrustworthy.
His soul felt sickened by it. Dante tremblingly raised his head.
The sky was burning.
The constantly descending spiral staircase was packed with Bloodletters. These servants of the Blood God roared as they charged at Alexander.
But Mephiston and Seth formed his guard.
Mephiston wielded his silver steel longsword, from which delicate blades of light constantly erupted, slicing apart any approaching daemons.
Seth, roaring, swung his Chainsword named 'Blood Reaver,' literally tearing apart the daemons.
Alexander also occasionally grabbed approaching daemons and stuffed them into his four-dimensional pocket for direct sale.
This method could completely eliminate Warp entities, preventing them from resurrecting in the Warp, similar to Guilliman's Emperor's Sword.
Mephiston murmured some incantation. This seemed to be some kind of ritual or command. Each time he passed through an archway, the nearby photonic candles would ignite with his voice, spewing red flames that illuminated the jewel-encrusted carvings on the walls.
These carvings tirelessly depicted the glorious deeds of Sanguinius.
If he didn't lack time now, Alexander really wanted to pry off all the gems from them.
Seth's Chainsword roared, shattering a screaming Bloodletter. An intricately carved archway appeared before them.
The archway was carved with a scene that broke the hearts of all Blood Angels: the Emperor's hand creating Sanguinius, and Horus' Claw killing Sanguinius.
Gabriel Seth couldn't help but let out a sigh.
Mephiston then murmured a riddle, and the archway slowly opened. A sweet, golden light flowed out from within.
The Bloodletters let out low wails, as if this golden light was driving them away.
Alexander and the others quickly entered through the door, entering Sanguinius' tomb.
"My Lord..." Gabriel Seth murmured involuntarily.
The Flesh Tearers warriors accompanying him also seemed greatly impacted; some had even knelt down, unable to resist murmuring prayers.
It was a heart of molten gold, shimmering with amber light, illuminating the entire tomb chamber forged from marble.
The Spear of Accomplishment, once used by a Primarch, was placed within the tomb chamber, but this sacred relic, which would have shaken the heart of every Blood Angel in the outside world, received no attention from those present.
They were all awestruck by the magnificent sight before them. Emotions of wonder, awe, and worship permeated every heart, melting into the sacred light before their eyes.
Three towering granite stones, collected from Baal III, stood atop a high platform in the center of the tomb chamber. Between the three massive stones, symbolizing Baal III, extended a pair of gigantic angelic wings forged from silver steel, brass, and adamantium.
Each feather was forged from a part of a loyalist starship from the Great Crusade era.
Some came from the Blood Angels' own fleet, some from fleet commanders and generals who had once served under Sanguinius' command, and a portion also came from Guilliman, Jaghatai Khan, Lion, Leman Russ – these Primarchs, and even the Custodes also contributed a portion.
These feathers were inscribed with words of remembrance, commemorating Sanguinius' sacrifice.
And between the metal wings floated a pair of brass halos. The halos contained various mechanical structures, their exteriors polished and plated with a color resembling Baal's star.
The Static Field within the brass halos operated silently, and within the halos, a golden sarcophagus floated.
Though called a golden sarcophagus, it was essentially a mass of molten liquid gold, maintained in its liquid state by the Static Field, its surface constantly surging, creating ripples.
Over the past ten thousand years, this golden coffin had never cooled, always guarding the remains within it.
Guarding Sanguinius, the Archangel and Lord of Blood, Chapter Master of the Ninth Legion, Primarch of Primarchs,
The apex of the galaxy, the answer of the Imperium, the noble Sanguinius, Horus' hand-made chicken meatball.
Alexander couldn't help but inwardly complain.
He felt that the reason the sarcophagus was made in this form was because the state of Sanguinius' remains was too horrifying.
A mass of broken bones and limp rotten flesh; if seen by a weak-minded Blood Angel, they would likely fall into Bloodthirst and Black Rage on the spot.
"Mephiston, open the can... Oh no, open the coffin!"
Mephiston's expression became slightly odd. He didn't understand why Alexander always insisted on comparing his genefather to a chicken meatball or a can.
But Mephiston didn't ask further. Instead, he quickly recited an incantation—
"Wh—" But before Mephiston could finish, he suddenly let out a low growl, and terrifying blood vessels appeared on his face.
Not just Mephiston, Seth and the others also simultaneously let out a painful wail, as if their souls had been assaulted.
Alexander was slightly stunned, then suddenly realized that Sanguinius in the corner of his eye had become much clearer.
"My friend."
For the first time since leaving the Netherworld Star System, Alexander clearly heard his voice:
"Ten thousand years have passed, and the shadow of the Old Night has once again caught up with humanity."
"The Great Rift has already opened, and one of my brothers is about to break through the obstruction of another of my brothers—"
Almost at the instant Sanguinius finished speaking, a beast-like roar suddenly echoed throughout the tomb chamber.
Alexander heard the swish of scimitars cutting through the air and furious roars.
The sky was burning.
Lightning struck from the Warp, tearing open Baal's firmament and leaving a scar burning with purple flames.
The three planets that served as the Archangel's second home were engulfed by the boiling Warp energy, the light of the stars was obscured, Adeptus Astartes roared and fainted, Star Speakers wailed as their heads exploded, the third eyes of Navigators burned with blasphemous evil fire, and Librarians struggled, collapsing to the ground.
All human minds howled in the torrent of the Warp; they could clearly feel their souls being coveted by dark entities from beyond reality, licked by the dark Warp energies.
Mortals let out sharp wails, their eyes filled with countless madness and confusion, and some even underwent flesh-level deformities.
Sanguinius' sons let out low laments, the visions from the Vengeful Spirit appearing in their eyes, and rage seethed in their chests.
Mad calls echoed from the Lost Spire, as the ghouls fallen to Bloodthirst roared for blood.
Reality was wailing, the scar stretching across the sky expanded continuously, and hellish vortices and storms spiraled out of the scar, tearing apart the entire starfield.
The hive mind was screaming, and billions of Tyranids were screaming.
The boiling Warp energy collided with the Tyranids' gestalt soul; the Tyranids' synaptic network began to burn, like a lit spiderweb.
Since its arrival in the galaxy, the hive mind had never suffered such severe damage; its will, born from billions of bodies and controlling billions of bodies, was severed.
For a brief moment, the hive mind even disappeared, seeming to be swallowed by eternal darkness in the blink of an eye, but it quickly recovered, and the Tyranids began to establish links with billions upon billions of Tyranids.
But undoubtedly, in that instant, the Tyranids tasted death.
This made the Tyranids roar with fury.
In the starfield of Baal, the Tyranids first connected with the Tyranid fleets in the void.
In the empty starfield, most of the time only the soul of the hive mind echoed; this was the domain it could most easily reclaim.
The hive mind let out an angry shriek, and shadows once again spread across Baal, resisting the scar that had swallowed more than half the galaxy.
The shadow of the Great Devourer first covered Baal, for it wanted to protect the Archangel's remains from being contaminated by entities from the Warp.
Important food must be properly protected!
But the hive mind quickly realized its failure.
In the Baal Star System, countless Tyranids were dying; their brainstems were burned to ashes by the impact of the Warp torrent, and many Tyranid warships turned into floating chunks of flesh in the void, with many precious units permanently lost.
The prey protected by the Angel Keep's Void Shield also suffered an impact, but they recovered faster than the hive mind, and the Void Shield was almost completely intact.
The Tyranids' current strength on Baal made it impossible to breach that Void Shield.
Just as the hive mind was about to control the portion of the Tyranids it could still control to reclaim the biomass on Baal, it unexpectedly discovered that...
In Baal's orbit, all its capillary towers had been severed.
The scarlet wrath of the Blood God overflowed from the breaks.
The hive mind was silent for a moment; the Tyranid ships in the void began to converge on the Tyranid fleet.
The bodies of the Tyranid ships began to disintegrate in the void, turning into biomass that flowed into the Tyranid fleet.
Deep within the Tyranid fleet, the Norn-Queens began their diligent work, weaving new biological units according to complex genetic sequences.
On the surface of Baal Prime, Angron let out an ecstatic roar.
The Great Rift had opened; on Cadia, far from Baal, Abaddon had finally achieved his goal.
The Great Rift had opened, bringing blood to the entire galaxy; the mighty power of the Empyrean from the Eye of Terror was unleashed across the galaxy, recreating the grandeur of the Old Night era.
Since the Emperor of Mankind ascended the Golden Throne, never had such powerful Warp energy raged in the real universe; the Empyrean now had the upper hand in its struggle with reality, and the Astronomican on Terra began to flicker, almost as if it were about to go out.
Old Night had been reborn, and Cadia had fallen.
The power of the Dark Gods could be unleashed more into reality, and a portion of the Blood God's attention could shift from Cadia to Baal.
Angron could feel his power growing rapidly.
He should have been fighting on Baal, offering more blood to the Blood God.
However, that Librarian Dreadnought, Brother Maureste, had interfered with him; although he hadn't completely banished him back to the Warp, he had thrown him onto Baal Prime, this moon of Baal.
Angron felt angry, but still couldn't help but praise Brother Maureste's courage and strength.
He was a rare and good opponent; Angron truly hoped he would return to the cursed one's throne, so perhaps they could fight again someday.
After all, good opponents are hard to find!
The Blood God's gaze was cast upon Angron's body; his dark wings gained power, enough to completely escape the moon's gravity and fly through the void between stars, heading towards Baal.
However, Angron smelled blood.
The hum of power armor and animalistic panting sounded all around.
Warriors in silver-red power armor appeared around the wilderness, surrounding Angron.
Angron noticed they were covered in blood, some Tyranids's, some human's.
They were growling lowly, casting angry glances at Angron.
Angron saw the secret hidden beneath their helmets.
"Demon..." A wild roar sounded, and Yor, Chapter Master of the Blood Cavaliers Battle Group, stood before Angron, staring fixedly at it: "Blood God's lackey!"
Angron let out a hearty laugh.
War! Indeed, this galaxy would never lack war!
The White Tiger Blade cut through the air like a mournful whisper, colliding with Zandiares, the greatsword forged by a Slaanesh demon.
Bang!!!
The sound of blades clashing rang out, and a flash of lightning erupted between their collision.
The Khan laughed aloud; even after ten thousand years, he was still the fastest.
He deftly wielded his blade, spinning rapidly on one foot, his cloak swirling like scattered clouds, obscuring the direction of his blade.
"Roar!!!"
His beastly brother let out a wail; the Khan's scimitar traced an arc as sharp as a venomous snake, cutting a hideous scar on Angron's leg.
Angron, the Khan's furious brother, swung the power axe, stirring up a fiery blaze of congealed blood, hacking towards the Khan's head.
The Khan uttered a word of praise; the blaze had diminished greatly before it even touched him.
The Khan had discovered during the Great Crusade era that he seemed to possess some power to resist destructive psychic abilities.
He was largely immune to those deadly attacks; the blasphemous evil forces of the Path to Heaven were useless against him.
He could balance Yin and Yang, find balance between reality and the Warp, and even the warriors who followed him would gain similar powers.
But Angron's power came directly from the Blood God; even the Khan could not be completely immune.
Just as he couldn't be completely immune to Mortarion's toxins back then.
But the Khan was far stronger than he was ten thousand years ago; he knew his power better than ever before.
The Khan's renowned swiftness once again came into play; he easily dodged Angron's attack.
Even the hybrid of a Blood God daemon and a Primarch could not keep up with him.
In the blink of an eye, Angron saw a series of dazzling feints and dodges; countless blades lunged in a flash of lightning, and for a moment, Angron felt as if he were facing a storm of blades.
Blood marks were cut into Angron's arms; the strong body granted to him by the Blood God resisted Jaghatai Khan's blade.
Jaghatai Khan could barely inflict real damage; he had to aim for a vital spot with a single piercing strike to banish Angron!
The two fought on the grassland; wild grass scattered like wind, thunder often fell, sprinkling over Angron's body, and wind often blew, pushing the Khan's White Tiger Blade.
The White Tiger roared at dawn, and thunder echoed across the wilderness!
The storm roared, lightning flashed, and the Khan's blade, folder within a bolt of lightning, cut towards Angron's neck with irresistible sharpness—
Angron flapped his wings and flew high, using flight to dodge the Khan's almost fatal throat-slitting blow.
"Wings again," the Khan sneered dismissively.
He had seen the Archangel's wings, Mortarion's moth wings, and heard that his former friend Magnus had also grown raven wings interwoven with scarlet and blue.
"Mortarion's are much better than yours."
The Khan's blade rose against the wind stirred by Angron's wings.
"Night daemons fly on wings, borrowing the might of the gods, yet they remain slaves. Angron, you can fly, but you are still a slave of the Blood God."
"Only the brave act with righteousness, and the wise move with benevolence, doing as they please without overstepping benevolence and righteousness, to wander in infinite freedom."
The sharpness of the White Tiger Blade cut through the air itself; the Khan seemed to cross the distance between himself and Angron in the blink of an eye, his blade already slightly piercing Angron's throat.
Bang!!!
A bloody fissure split the entire grassland; wild grass burned in fire, the blue sky collapsed and disintegrated, and the torrent of the Warp shattered this space.
A hideous rift began to tear from the Warp, spreading across the entire galaxy.
The Storm Seers supporting this grassland for the Khan let out a low lament; they knelt on the ground, and the Warp visions reappeared before Angron, the Blood God's will also intensely imposed itself on Angron, and his power consequently surged.
The Lord of the Red Sands roared, and his greatsword swept across the Khan's chest; the Khan grunted, being forced back.
Angron then suddenly realized that he was right next to the Warp reflection of Baal III; he had almost reached the real universe, only deceived by the illusion woven by Jaghatai Khan and his Storm Seers.
He roared and charged into reality.
The Khan and the White Scars' Storm Seers tried to stop him, but at that moment, scorching scarlet flames rained down from afar.
Eight Bloodthirster, burning with fire, blocked the Khan and the White Scars.
A considerable number of World Eaters Berserkers also appeared beside the Bloodthirster.
With the end of the Battle of Cadia, the Blood God could commit more power to Baal.
Alexander looked at the situation before him with a frustrated expression.
Sanguinius suddenly told him that the Great Rift had opened, and Gabriel Seth and his Flesh Tearers were practically half-stepping into the Black Rage.
And Mephiston, the only one who knew how to unlock this complex golden sarcophagus, had collapsed to the ground, uttering low, incoherent wails.
His psychic power was so immense that he also suffered the greatest impact from the opening of the Great Rift.
At the same time, Alexander could vaguely hear reality wailing, the roars of beasts sounding, and a Warp rift slowly tearing open before him.
Alexander didn't hesitate for a moment; he pulled out the psychic hood, instantly appearing before Mephiston, pressing down with the mechanizer in his left hand, and grasping Mephiston's neck with his right hand to lift him up.
Alexander suddenly grabbed the convulsing Mephiston by the neck.
His finger gently pressed a button on the mechanical device.
"Anti-Psyker Suppression Amplification Collar."
A low hum instantly emanated from Alexander's fingertips, and a faintly glowing Static Field was released from his palm, noticeably suppressing Mephiston's psychic powers.
The Anti-Psyker Suppression Amplification Collar was an ancient technological artifact discovered during the Great Crusade era. The one Alexander copied was a collection of the Blood Angels Librarians, a version created ten thousand years ago after the Council of Nikaea to curb Psykers.
Alexander copied this item specifically to deal with Warp powers.
Even for a powerful Psyker like Mephiston, his Warp power was significantly quelled in an instant.
The pain of having his Warp power suppressed stimulated Mephiston. His psychic energy immediately wavered, and he instinctively tried to break free.
A low growl escaped Mephiston's throat, and various incoherent syllables spilled from his mouth.
"Dark Angel… Dark Angel…" Mephiston murmured a few times as if in a dream, then suddenly widened his eyes.
"Awake? Get to work!" Alexander released his grip and set Mephiston down.
Mephiston quickly glanced around, seeing the struggling, fallen Seth and the Flesh Tearers, and the Warp rift tearing open nearby.
At the same time, his Warp vision could see a rift spanning reality and the Warp, and the reflection of Baal in the Warp covered in blood, with a monstrous crimson Godly Eight-Bound attempting to invade Baal.
"..Alright!" Mephiston, almost without hesitation, immediately began chanting the incantation to open Sanguinius' sarcophagus.
Sanguinius' sarcophagus was covered with layer upon layer of protection by generations of Blood Angels artisans and Librarians. It could not be opened quickly without correctly chanting the incantation.
Angry roars echoed from the Warp rift behind Alexander. In the flickering gloom, countless daemons seemed to writhe within.
Bloodletters, their bodies burning with flames, poured out, and with them, a group of Astartes clad in power armor interwoven with brass and crimson.
World Eaters Berserkers, an Astartes Legion that had betrayed humanity and the Emperor in the past, submitting to the will of the Blood God.
They let out savage and furious roars, lunging at Alexander and Mephiston. The smell of oil from the whirring Chainswords and chainaxes filled the sacred tomb chamber.
Alexander could sense the anger and blasphemy emanating from the machine spirit of those Chainsword weapons; the weapons themselves had been corrupted by Khorne's power.
But the moment the Chainsword approached Alexander, the mechanical operation slowed down.
Alexander took the opportunity to pull out the Denkōmaru. The toy sword, shimmering with a faint golden light, easily blocked the attacks of several World Eaters Berserkers.
The World Eaters roared with anger at the dazzling sword light Alexander brandished.
However, their Chainsword weapons could not touch Alexander in the slightest.
Among these berserkers, many were not wearing helmets. Their grimacing faces were exposed to the air, with cable-like machinery wrapped around their heads.
Once, to be closer to their Primarch, the World Eaters also had Butcher's Nails implanted. After ten thousand years, the implantation of the Butcher's Nails had become a ritual for the World Eaters, a way of training new recruits.
These replicas of ancient technological artifacts would pierce the victim's brain, stimulating their anger and rage, stripping them of all other normal emotions. Only in battle and slaughter could they gain a tiny bit of positive feedback, slightly escaping the pain brought by these terrible machines.
Alexander wielded the Denkōmaru, gently parrying a World Eater Berserker's Chainsword, while pressing a button on the mechanical device in his other hand, aimed at the Spear of Accomplishment nearby.
Alexander instantly tossed the Denkōmaru into the air, and a sharp, irresistible energy field, shimmering with a faint golden light, appeared on his right hand.
Screech—
The sharpness copied from the Spear of Accomplishment easily pierced the World Eater Berserker's chest, and the power field directly incinerated his internal organs.
At this moment, a squad of Bloodletters attempted to bypass Alexander and charge directly towards Sanguinius' golden sarcophagus.
Alexander did not give them this opportunity.
The four-dimensional pocket suddenly shook, and over a dozen ancient melta pistols that Alexander had pilfered from the Librarians' collection flew out. The Superpower Hat on Alexander's head waved its mechanical arm, and powerful telekinesis directly controlled these terrifying melta weapons simultaneously.
Subatomic vibrations rang out, and searing plasma heat beams sprayed forth.
Melta weapons were relatively poor in range and accuracy, but under Alexander's almost infallible marksmanship, this was not an issue at all.
The dozen or so Bloodletters attempting to bypass Alexander were incinerated into ashes and dissipated on the spot in the blink of an eye.
The muzzles of the melta pistols then turned towards the World Eaters Berserkers. The scorching melta light was far more lethal than laser beams; even the World Eaters Berserkers, empowered by Khorne, could not withstand it.
"It's done!!" Mephiston suddenly turned his head and shouted at Alexander.
He roared, brandishing his silver steel blade, and numerous sword lights defying the laws of physics flashed across the tomb chamber. Several berserkers attempting to surround him were cut into pieces.
At the same time, the two brass halos continuously circling in mid-air slowly ceased their operation, and the Static Field abruptly stopped.
Molten gold fell from mid-air, like golden blood raining upon the earth, scattering into a faint golden puddle on the ground, flowing down the steps.
In an instant, both the Sons of Sanguinius and the World Eaters Berserkers held their breath.
As the golden liquid poured down and slowly solidified on the ground, a face so handsome it made one hold their breath appeared before everyone.
It was a face radiating divine light, covered by strands of hair stained with molten gold, and enveloped by a headscarf woven from delicate golden chains. He had his eyes closed, his head tilted, solemn and dignified, as if merely in a deep and eternal sleep.
The beauty of that face deeply shook the hearts of everyone present. Even the enraged World Eaters Berserkers couldn't help but tremble, unhesitatingly believing that it was the Son of God, the glory of God, the incarnation of God on earth.
Because that face could only be sculpted by the hands of a true deity; it was a beauty that reality itself could barely contain.
But heartbreakingly, the owner of this handsome face was dead. His sacred face was covered with scars and signs of repair, indicating the suffering he had once endured.
His body hung soft and limp between the crimson granite, his gem-encrusted golden war armor shattered, pure bloodstone and adamantium reduced to fragments, and the Eye of Terra embedded in his chest was also covered in cracks.
The flesh beneath the armor was even more horrifying, covered in scars, and his bones seemed to have been completely torn apart.
Presumably, the Blood Angels ten thousand years ago used every method to try and repair their father's remains, but the damage to this body was too severe, and the power of the murderer still seemed to linger upon it across ten millennia.
Looking at the corpse, Alexander seemed to see the Sons of Sanguinius trying again and again to repair their father's broken bones, piecing together the remains of their Primarch like a jigsaw puzzle each time, enduring heart-wrenching pain with every failure, and weeping with sorrow for each setback.
Yet, in the end, he could only be interred in such a state.
How pitiful, Sons of Sanguinius!
"You're thinking something very rude, aren't you?" Sanguinius couldn't help but say.
Unlike Alexander's earlier prediction, Mephiston trembled at the sight.
"My Lord..." Unspeakable sorrow and pain surged in Mephiston's voice.
The scent of blood emanated from Sanguinius' remains, stimulating the nerves of the Sons of Sanguinius and World Eaters Berserkers present.
It also stimulated the presence within the Warp rift.
In an instant, an angry roar erupted, and the Warp rift became even more ferocious, its interior becoming much clearer.
A tall plains warrior was wielding a gleaming scimitar, fighting eight Bloodthirsters, while Astartes warriors in white power armor fought Bloodletters and World Eaters Berserkers.
Some of these white power armors held ancient scepters, from which hung beast skulls. In their chants, countless storms roared, coiling around the body of the largest daemon Prince.
The daemon Primarch of Khorne, Angron.
Angron was furiously trying to break free from the white power-armored warriors' obstruction, roaring wildly, attempting to enter reality. More than half of his body was almost out of the Warp rift.
"No!" Mephiston exclaimed, quickly carving a path to the Warp rift, raising his silver steel longsword, and channeling his immense psychic energy into a torrent to block the Warp rift.
Even with the help of those white power-armored warriors, Mephiston still felt immense pressure.
The power of the daemon Primarch was simply too great. And it wasn't just the daemon Primarch invading reality.
Eight World Eaters, their bodies wreathed in bloodlust, with exposed heads and bestial limbs, brimming with demonic power, and semi-merged with their weapons, roared as they entered reality.
Eight Bound, World Eaters Berserkers possessed by eight daemons.
These savage warriors would be bound in Eight Bound cages by apothecaries, connected to their Butcher's Nails with various complex probes and needles, and a blasphemous Warp ritual would be performed.
No one would know what these warriors experienced in the cages. When the Eight Bound cages were opened, some would turn into vile flesh, some into Chaos Spawn, some would simply vanish, and those who successfully survived would become symbiotic with eight daemons, becoming terrifying Eight Bound, akin to a Warp version of opening a blind box.
And those whose souls were completely merged with eight daemons would become Godly Eight-Bound. Those charging out of the Warp were clearly eight Godly Eight-Bound.
They almost immediately lunged at Alexander. Their sharp Chainsword weapons irresistibly hacked at Alexander. Alexander grunted, and the melta weapons behind him fired at the Eight Bound.
But the Godly Eight-Bound, merged with eight daemons, clearly had stronger physical power. Their demon bodies, full of wrath, and their heavy power armor seemed to resist the roaring melta flames to some extent.
Screech!!! Chainswords whirred, and over a dozen Flesh Tearers roared, joining the battle, blocking the Eight Bound's attacks for Alexander.
Their eyes flashed with madness; they were almost halfway into the Black Rage.
Seth's expression was twisted, almost painful. He brandished his Chainsword, helping Alexander force back the nearest Godly Eight-Bound.
Freed from the Eight Bound, Alexander's mind stirred, and he concentrated. He vanished from his spot in the blink of an eye, then reappeared beside Sanguinius' remains.
Alexander reached into his four-dimensional pocket and pulled out a cloth bundle woven with a clock pattern.