The horror upon the Chaos Throne still continued.
That scene battered the minds of every Blood Angel, until even their suppressants lost effect.
An even more terrible Black Rage spread through the depths of their souls.
"My lord—"
Even Dante, a warrior who had lived for dozens of centuries and possessed an unyielding will, could not withstand an impact of this magnitude.
He witnessed the cruel tragedy upon the Chaos Throne, and for a moment, all strength left him.
With a thud, he dropped to his knees.
"The Savior.
He cannot die. We cannot lose him—"
Some Blood Angels could not endure the mental shock and lost consciousness completely.
In the Blood Angels' vision, The Savior, the Emperor of Mankind, was drenched in blood from head to toe, his muscles twisting and bulging, terrifying beyond words.
His great hand clamped around a body and lifted it from the ground—that was Sanguinius, the Father of Genes of the Blood Angels!
At that moment, the Archangel's black wings had been cruelly torn off, exposing his hideous spine.
He hung there, every broken bone and torn wound across his body seeming to scream, foul blood gushing from within him and spilling from his mouth.
Sanguinius struggled, letting out an incoherent cry amid the agony.
In despair, he swung a fist and smashed it hard into The Savior's face.
Yet when his fist struck the other's face, it shattered his own bones instead, bone spurs jutting out.
The Savior roared in pain and threw down his prey.
Sanguinius collapsed to the ground, desperately trying to crawl up, trying to prop himself up and stand straight—
But his legs and spine had already been crushed. He could not even rise, and he looked as if he were crawling.
Hah—
At last, Sanguinius staggered to his